Why Influencers Keep Selling Cheap Shit
Another round of influencer pajama drama? Are you kidding me?
TikTok influencer and model Madeleine White recently relaunched her sleepwear brand, See You Tomorrow. Following an initial launch plagued by production issues, she pulled the brand back a few days later to “get it right.”
“I truly did not think that people were as savvy and cared so much about what fabric their garments are and all those kinds of things,” she said in an exclusive with WWD.
A few days ago, See You Tomorrow made its return to the market after several months on hiatus. A French coquette sleepwear line, Madeleine’s designs are made from silk, cotton, and modal, with a price range of $88 to $148. The reception has been…not great. In a now-viral post, one customer who paid for a "92% silk" dress instead received one made from viscose—a much cheaper and less sustainable alternative. She went on to share the rest of her haul, unboxing garments with blatantly cheap sewing and raw edges. She dubbed the video, “The Worst Brand I’ve Tried So Far.” It’s unclear if other customers experienced similar issues, but if See You Tomorrow is truly marketing products as silk while selling viscose, the consequences could extend far beyond a few angry TikTok rants.
Madeleine’s brand oopsie is just the latest in a string of failed influencer brand launches. Last month, influencer moms Samantha and Cecily Bauchmann, who collectively boast over two million followers, launched…yet another pajama line. The duo, known for sharing affordable Walmart finds and easy dinner ideas, faced a wave of backlash for marketing a $98 polyester-and-rayon pajama set that critics compared to Amazon-level quality.
Then there’s Lily Chapman, another influencer who exists in the same orbit as Madeleine. Chatty and relatable, her content caters to young millennials and Gen Z looking for thrifting hacks and outfit inspo. A few months ago, she launched a jewelry line—an interesting move for someone who admitted to having no jewelry design experience. It didn’t take TikTok sleuths long to discover that she was attempting to dropship pieces from AliExpress and slapping her own branding on them. Initially, she denied the claims, but she eventually admitted the faux pas, chalking it up to a misunderstanding of what "jewelry design" actually entails. She is now releasing a new jewelry line.
One interesting thread tying these influencer ventures together is their reliance on external teams to build their brands. Madeleine and Lily, in particular, have openly admitted to having little to no design experience and instead turned to companies that “help influencers start their own brands.” Listening to them recount their entrepreneurial woes, it sounds like they handed over their doodles and a fat wad of cash to a brand incubator. These incubators likely outsourced production to China, churning out cheap, trendy products stamped with an influencer’s name for easy marketing.
Just a guess!
What many influencers fail to grasp is that cash-grab “build-a-brands” only work for two groups: the anonymous and the Kardashians. For both brands and celebrities, attaching your name to a product is an inherently risky gamble. If the product sucks, the talent’s reputation takes a hit. If the talent’s reputation falters, the product inevitably suffers—exhibit A: Matilda Djerf. It’s a symbiotic relationship that’s doomed to fail most of the time. We’ll save a breakdown of all failed Kardashian brands for another day. Suffice it to say, Kris Jenner just has really good lawyers.
This is what makes Selena Gomez and Hailey Bieber such an interesting case study. Beyond their shared taste in men, both have invested in great teams that, in turn, have created genuinely good products that thrive in competitive markets. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and neither are truly lasting brands. From following much of Rhode’s marketing team on social media, it’s clear to me that most of their products take over a year to go from concept to launch. With Rhode’s carefully curated skincare line, it’s safe to assume that plenty of products were tested—and scrapped—because they didn’t meet the brand’s high standards.
Unfortunately, we’re living in a time when a new influencer brand seems to spawn every five minutes. It’s become a predictable fame progression: first, build social media influence; second, start a podcast; third, launch a wellness beverage…or a sleepwear line, I guess? Then, finally, pray that your followers’ parasocial relationships with you will be enough to turn a profit.
Spoiler alert: it won’t. Social media influence is not, and never will be, equivalent to real brand power. Prove me wrong!