Influencers are Disrupting our Perception of Fame
Written By Liz Garcia
Graphic By Kadence Schaecher
At the 2005 MTV Movie Awards, Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams shared an electric kiss on stage after winning “Best Kiss” for their climactic scene in “The Notebook;” Kanye West infamously interrupted Taylor Swift’s acceptance speech at the 2009 VMAs; and back in 2013, Jennifer Lawrence humbly tripped up the stairs on the way to her first Oscar win. Awards shows undeniably bring chaotically-memorable moments — Billie Eilish is now a part of the highlight reel.
In a video posted by Pop Crave on Twitter, a leading celebrity update account, Eilish is overheard questioning some of the invitees of the 2024 People’s Choice Awards. “There’s some, like, TikTokers here,” she says. Eilish’s comment quickly resonated with users online who don’t believe influencers should be invited to award shows.
“For the record: Billie Eilish was 1000% right to be annoyed at TikTokers being invited to the awards. Some of the junkets & carpets have been downright embarrassing lately. The quality of the questions is abysmal. There’s no broadcast training. People doing dumb bits. It’s wild,” Twitter user @ThatAldenDiaz wrote.
Influencers have a unique rung on the social hierarchy ladder: they are less removed from the Internet than traditional celebrities, making them more relatable, but their digital standing in society is still unachievable-enough that ordinary users feel comfortable calling them “famous.” Whether or not it is sought after, anyone can build a platform now. What once was an A-list empire is now more or less a zoo; the exclusivity of fame has diminished, allowing everyday people to exist in the same spaces. Now that these elite gatherings, once reserved for the Grace Kellys and James Deans of the world, are being infiltrated by the low-on-the-totem-pole influencers and content creators, the public is questioning if they even deserve to attend these high-brow events.
Albeit most people believe influencers and content creators generally produce less-valuable content, some are more appreciated than others. Amelia Dimoldenberg, the awkwardly-charming host of Chicken Shop Date, a series on her YouTube channel where she interviews celebrities in the form of a mock-date at a London chicken shop, is the new golden girl of disseminating celebrity content. A crowd favorite, Dimoldenberg has served as an interviewer, red carpet host, and social media correspondent for several awards gatherings, including the GQ Men of the Year Awards, Milan Fashion Week for Gucci, and the upcoming 96th Academy Awards. Despite her career taking off on the Internet, Dimoldenberg is adored by audiences each time she appears next to an A-lister with a microphone in hand. Harry Daniels, a TikToker famously known for shocking celebrities by unexpectedly singing in front of them, was amongst those in attendance at the People’s Choice Awards. A controversial segment from a TikTok posted by Daniels has sparked conversations online about the level of professionalism influencers have around top-notch celebrities.
Twitter user @rendy_jones wrote, “And there’s a reason why Billie was like “why are there TikTok influencers here?” Yall aren’t funny nor real journalists with any professionalism. Theres only a select few I can think of who earn their keep but most of yall? Ugh, gross.”
There seems to be a hierarchy system within the influencer realm itself; those who create clickbaity, controversial content are less respected than those who produce more worthwhile media — it is the former in which people do not support sharing spaces with prominent figures. Interacting with celebrities demands a certain level of manners and respect, which is why darlings like Emma Chamberlain and Amelia Dimoldenberg are fan favorites. Nonetheless, all influencers are capable of producing one thing: content. The ever-changing media landscape challenges institutions to keep up with trends — who better to utilize than the very people kick-starting them? Influencers and content creators are seen as marketing tools to promote their events and better connect with audiences. One of Daniels’ TikTok captions reads: “thank you #pcas/fanmade for having me 💙🙏 billie vid next up + more stuff for my side acc incoming :p #tanamongeau #hallebailey #neverhaveiever #coileray #alixearle #barbie.” Daniels’ PCA-related content including other attendees, influencers and celebrities alike (including Eilish herself), has garnered millions of views on his TikTok page. Some of these influencers ring a familiar bell in our brains: James Charles, Alix Earle, Drew Afulo, and Jake Shane were all in attendance at the PCAs. Their online presence and name recognition helps boost whatever promotional event they may be a part of.
The media landscape, for quite some time now, has depended on content creators to facilitate relatable entertainment. Though the consensus seems to be that influencers and content creators should remain in their corner of the Internet, there is no “right” or “wrong” answer. These unlikely attendees are disrupting our perception of fame and its exclusivity. Where we once saw esteemed “Best Actress” and “Album of the Year” nominees, we now also see TikTokers and podcasters — ordinary people who, perhaps by chance, got their sliver of fame. And that is uncomfortable. Billie Eilish’s casual comment reignited a modern debate that challenges our perception of fame, success, hierarchy, and exclusivity.