Are we really our Instagram account?

In fashion, not everyone works with social media, but everyone, in one way or another, uses it for work. In an industry that has transformed the cult of image into a billion-euro business, there are professionals known more by their Instagram handle – BryanBoy, FashionRoadman, HauteLeMode, BrendaHashtag – than by their real name – Bryan Yambao, Odunayo Ojo, Luke Meagher, Brenda Weischer. There are writers who have seen their book rejected by a publisher because their social presence was deemed irrelevant compared to others, models required to post frequently on Instagram to secure a spot on the runway during the most important Fashion Weeks of the season. In a new study by Vogue Business that analyzes the weight of social media in the fashion industry, it revealed what was expected: social engagement strongly influences a career in fashion, whether for an editor, a photographer, a casting director, or a hairstylist.

In the Vogue Business report, 91.1% of respondents admitted to feeling compelled to manage their social presence, while 92.1% believe that their account, at least once, has influenced the course of their career. In one way or another, in fashion, the feed has become the new resume, a mix of content designed to showcase a candidate's potential to a prospective employer. A photographer must share their photos, a writer must focus on creating captions, a PR professional must build a strong network of connections within their follower list. If the Vogue Business report truly reflects the industry's mindset, then it is true that in fashion, everyone—from PRs to buyers, from social media managers to journalists, from stylists to creative directors—is condemned to be a slave to their phone. But how much can we really trust what someone posts online, their following, and how relevant their work truly is? Past cases teach us that followers can be bought, and algorithms only reward certain types of content; fiction is just a click away if you know how to press the right button.

Indeed, being an industry that revolves around image, it's almost normal that fashion is so tied to the world of social media: just as brands need to build a media presence across every digital branch (TikTok, YouTube, X, or the Chinese WeChat and Weibo) to sell their clothes, those who want to sell their work must be recognized on at least a couple of the most popular platforms. The only difference is that while a brand usually relies on social media managers, a freelancer can only rely on themselves: in addition to the forty regular working hours per week (which, as we know, are often much more in fashion), there are the hours spent posting, editing, thinking of original content, and staying up-to-date on trends. Vogue Business says that Instagram is the new resume, but managing one's account is a full-time job that doesn’t end once a new professional position is secured.

In addition to causing high levels of stress, turning one's identity into a PowerPoint, dedicating endless hours to curating one’s account in hopes of landing a dream job, ultimately expresses a great paradox. Because to "break through" on a platform like TikTok, one needs to be original, but often the only way to enter the algorithm's loop is to copy what others are doing; this is the mechanism that creates trends, a phenomenon that rewards or punishes almost randomly. The fashion industry stands on the concept of novelty and exceptionality, so the speed with which a homepage churns out ideas fits perfectly with the industry's demands; however, if those working within it succumb to the temptation of following social trends just to gain a few more followers, they end up saying the same things as everyone else. Thus, the myth of innovative fashion collapses. At the beginning of a career, it's right to follow the rules, listen to more mature or experienced colleagues, but one must always keep in mind that sometimes going against the tide is harder but more rewarding. To break the mold, sometimes you have to leave the screen.