The price of pretty: How much to hustle for influencer style aesthetics?

Both Alanna Panday (left), who could owe her 2.4 million followers to her Bollywood vintage, and Ankita Chawla, with her carefully curated life on Instagram and 280K followers, put out ‘aspirational’ content. Pics/Instagram/@alannapanday, @hustlerani

I have been making a bunch of videos recently that document my life as a journalist in Mumbai. They include me walking to the metro station, eating lunch at my desk, my workout effort, and going to events I am invited to. There is also raw and real footage of me having my eggs, or videos with low lighting at a bar focusing on a blurry picante glass, or me coming home and ordering McDonald's and eating it off a melamine plate. These are not aesthetic videos - unless the aesthetic would be trying to make a living in busy, dusty, hot Mumbai, as you make content, network, and have a life that you actually enjoy.

Compared to the videos Ankita Chawla (@Hustlerani) and Alanna Panday put up, I might as well be the troll living under a bridge. Panday's got a whole colour scheme going - her husband and her, and their child, are usually swathed in pastels and nudes. There are professionally shot photos of them at ski resorts, and next to blue shores. There are magazine-style editorial shoots, and you could mistake her for a Kardashian. She has 2.4 million followers - some which may just follow her because of her famous Bollywood family.

Chawla's (280k followers) aesthetic is slightly more relaxed than Panday's over-the-top style. But her perfect bob, and curated feed of well-thought out angles, outfits (she does a lot of GRWMs) and opinions (mostly on protein, and yoghurt bowls), have me feeling a bit confused at the reason behind her success.

But to both I will ask: How much do we have to hustle to have this level of pretty and perfect lives? In a world where people are being laid off every few days, with many being stuck in the same jobs at the same salaries for decades - why does promoting a life full of good, luxurious, pretty things (that all cost moolah) make them so popular with their followers?

The first reason would be that certain followers would want to live vicariously through these two. For example, I often spend my Sundays watching Kirin Camp, which is a YouTube channel run by a Korean girl who makes videos about luxury camping. I am never going to do it - but it's fun and relaxing for me to watch her. As always, there is a word for it. Digital escapism! It is supposed to offer a curated glimpse into a life that feels slightly out of reach.

Other reasons that I found during my research on why people do what they do on the Internet is that people use it for goal setting - they may be putting up pictures of Hustlerani on their vision board. They also could be para-socially attached to these people - and may feel they are peeking into a friend's life. Followers also look at such creators to know the trends - like the latest cool protein, or sipper, or phone. And lastly, if you follow such creators, it solidifies your desire to conform to the pre-decided versions of beauty and success.

Now to my point - yes, this is all good. Watching something to feel pleasure or set an aspirational goal is recommended, especially in the world we are living in now. Anything positive is a step ahead for mankind. But I feel that at a time where we must be rejecting consumerism, FOMO of any kind, and a desire for "trendy" things that don't add real value to our lives, such creators may just be slightly out of line. Most creators and influencers get a lot of stuff for free, as long as they post about it. That iPhone - it's gifted. That protein - it's all paid for. But then, isn't that what the influencer economy is all about?

Maybe it comes down to the viewer then. Follow them, but don't get FOMO when you can't afford that fancy protein every month. It's fine. Get the affordable protein - your body and brain will be okay. Maybe just note the trend, but then make it your own. Can't get that Zara dress? Get a Westside one that resembles it instead. Can't get the Coach bag? Get a Lavie or Zouk.

So in the end, maybe it's not Chawla or Panday's burden to carry. It's us the viewers, who must practice discernment. We should get inspired, but maybe we shouldn't try and live the same life. We adapt it to our means and our capacity. That way, we stay true, and authentic to who we are.

See you next week.

Ranting and raving about all that's trending on social media, Aastha Atray Banan is an author, creator, podcaster, and the Editor of your favourite weekend read, Sunday mid-day. She posts at @aasthaatray on Instagram.
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