UNDER THE INFLUENCE

ONCE upon a time people who documented their lives via the medium of the internet were called bloggers. Then Instagram came along and the words morphed into captions and they were renamed influencers due to their ability to do just that, influence people. Where to shop, what to wear, what to eat, how to exercise, our skincare regime, everything.

They are the tastemakers of a generation, inspiring and often encouraging spending patterns and lifestyle behaviours, with some earning hefty salaries in the process by being paid by brands to endorse their products.

Until recently I had thought I was immune, that I was able to follow and observe these people but remain detached from their “power”.

I was wrong.

I’ve been following one particular stylist as she globe-trots across Indonesia, Singapore and Australia, enthralled as she shares all the details of her effortless but delectably filtered outfits, paired with beachy waves.

It only hit me that I too had been bitten by the influencer bug when I found myself trawling through American websites to find the exact black sliders she was wearing.

When I finally found them they were extortionately expensive, but I was in love, or at least lust.

I had to have them. They would make me look like her, transform me, my legs would appear as tanned and yoga honed as hers, my life instantly more enriched. It couldn’t be a similar pair, a cheaper pair, oh no, then the magic wouldn’t work!

A few quick taps on my phone and they were on the way to me, my life-changing shoes.

Five days later I unpacked my precious cargo and slipped them on. Thanks to my Insta-crush I had spent an inordinate amount of money buying and shipping from the USA what was a fantasy.

I bought into a lifestyle, I wanted the Bondi tan, the salty beachy hair and the chai bowl for breakfast, but all I got were some overpriced sliders and a hefty return postage.

I am officially over being influenced.

A cheaper option: Criss cross leather slip on sandals, £59, stories.com