Over the past couple of years, the prestigious Cannes Film Festival has been subject to a new form of criticism.
The red carpet of the film festival has long been a glamorous ramp for beautiful people to showcase wonderful fashion, the invitees are traditionally people from the world of film, or film-adjacent, such as models, producers, and rich financiers.
But the last few editions have seen a new category of attendees: influencers.
This year too, a host of Indian (and foreign) influencers descended upon the French Riviera and created content around the festival – but not about it.
By overshadowing the films themselves, culture critics point out, the influencers are taking attention away from those who truly deserve it (a point I mostly concur with, though it begs the question: how many of us even cared about Cannes before the influencers were there?).
This critique has been further magnified by allegations from industry insiders that the influencers’ ‘I made it to Cannes!’ posts may not be all that genuine, since they actually pay their way to the festival – spending lakhs of rupees just to proclaim that they made it there.
All this has led to widespread panning of all the influencers who have ‘made it’ to Cannes, with one exception.
Nancy Tyagi, a 23-year-old fashion influencer from Uttar Pradesh.
Nancy, The Underdog Who ‘Made It’
Nancy, who rose to fame with her Instagram reels of making outfits from scratch on her hand-powered sewing machine, has received widespread adoration for her appearance there, as well as her outfits.
Continuing her signature ‘outfit from scratch’ move, a video by Brut shows Nancy excitedly explaining to a red carpet interviewer that she created her own outfit, using 1000 metres of fabric and spending 30 days of effort in it.
She speaks in Hindi, assisted by an interviewer, and is visibly overwhelmed in the now-viral video which has over 20,00,000 likes on Instagram. (Brut is also the media partner of the event and allegedly part of the effort of putting up tickets for purchase.)
An overwhelming majority of people have been supporting Nancy across platforms: her Instagram followers have grown to 1.3 million, and she was trending on social media on the day of an IPL match (which usually overshadows all other topics).
Her follow-up looks have been well-received, with audiences lauding her effort and style, and she has been featured in various best-dressed lists, by both Indian and foreign media and bloggers.
People are proud of her.
And even as the news of influencers buying their tickets to Cannes broke out and they were ridiculed on social media, Nancy, who herself was included in the list of people who paid to go, has mostly escaped the criticism – still getting largely positive coverage, albeit with a few commentators here and there saying how they can’t ‘see her the same way’ after knowing she paid to go.
It’s a problem borne out of our need to ‘see’ influencers in some way at all, to place them somewhere in the moral compasses of our worldview, to decide if we see them as individuals who are working or as the juggernaut of the creator economy (or both).
Influencing in Times of an Oversaturated Creator Economy
Also now, the initial wave of fascination and admiration that influencers were regarded with in the mid- to late-2010s has turned into a more questioning, impatient gaze.
From growing awareness of how influencers directly lead to consumerism, spread of harmful trends, and misinformation, as well as a fatigue with the over-saturation they now have, our changing attitudes towards influencers are reflected not just in research but also in the recent rise of phenomena like ‘de-influencing’.
And influencer critique often skyrockets around events that are meant to showcase the best talent from any particular industry – such as the Met Gala, where the inclusion of TikTokers and influencers like Addison Rae and Emma Chamberlain in the invitees has been heavily criticised.
Closer home, we have repeatedly seen widespread disapproval when live events and cultural festivals, award shows, and even TV shows like MasterChef India have invited influencers to make appearances.
The key criticism is often that inviting an influencer could come at the opportunity cost of actually highlighting talent that deserves that publicity, as well as the fact that the influencer often has nothing to do with the event’s niche itself, and sometimes overshadows the event’s purpose entirely.
On the other hand, these events need eyeballs to make money, and currently money lies in the influencer economy, which is where brand interests lie.
Questions & Genuine Concerns Can Co-Exist With Pride & Admiration
Nancy is an interesting conundrum, because she represents the best dreams of what we were promised the internet could do: reward hard work, platform the underdogs, value creativity, and bring genuinely talented people to the fore who may have never seen the spotlight otherwise.
Nancy has also retained what made her ‘her’ – her story, her personality, her self-made clothes – at this international stage. And while many seem to see their presence at Cannes as an ‘end’, as a grand finale of success, she is still working, still showcasing her talent, still proving she deserves to be there.
We should let ourselves be proud of Nancy.
How we look at an individual who is part of a system we don't like isn’t a black-and-white problem – but that doesn’t mean we can’t praise someone doing well in the grey (or in Nancy’s case, the pink!).
It is also a good chance to be honest with ourselves about our notions of who we think ‘deserves’ success, and whether playing by the same twisted rules as the others negates that success in any way.
There are larger conversations to be had about how to separate merit from marketing, and talent from Instagram follower counts, about ‘gatekeeping’ versus rightful boundaries, the arts needing sustainable funding, and influencer saturation at large – and how many other Nancys can perhaps not afford the high price tag that has now been set on ‘success’ as a stage.
These questions can coexist with pride, with admiration, and with praise for what is, even as we try to envision a better what could be.
(Ria Chopra writes about Gen Z, pop culture, and the internet. You can follow her work on Instagram and X. This is an opinion piece. The views expressed above are the author’s own. The Quint neither endorses nor is responsible for the same.)
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