The celebrity UK housewife cleaning up on Instagram
Mrs Hinch’s Procter & Gamble deal shines spotlight on ‘confusing’ rules for influencers
As a domestic goddess, Mrs Hinch’s online cleaning tips have attracted more than two million followers to become a uniquely British internet phenomenon. Whether filming herself spraying detergent into her lavatory or tucking scented laundry sheets into fluffed up pillows, Sophie Hinchliffe, an Essex housewife and former hairdresser, has helped cleaning products fly off supermarket shelves.
Mops, scourers, detergents and washing-up liquids have been sent as gifts to her in the hope they feature in her Instagram videos and enjoy the “Hinch effect” of boosting sales.
Some companies, including US multinational Procter & Gamble, have signed her up to promote brands or be part of advertisement campaigns.
The rise to near-celebrity status of Mrs Hinchliffe illustrates how “social media influencers”, who catalogue their experiences of buying and using products online, have become a powerful marketing tool.
However, the authorities responsible for ensuring bloggers, vloggers and social media celebrities mark posts as “adverts” if they have a “commercial relationship” with a manufacturer face an arduous task policing the limitless digital sphere.
The Advertising Standards Authority (ASA) states that online “influencers” must be “transparent and unambiguous” if they have a “commercial relationship” with a brand they promote. Essentially they must label such posts clearly as “ads”.
The ASA and the Competition and Markets Authority (CMA), have been at pains to ensure celebrities, among others, do just that, warning that failure can lead to jail.
Mrs Hinchliffe, 29, has received two advice notices – last October and last month – from the ASA after it received “complaints” about concerns regarding posts.
An ASA spokesman said the “recent follow-up advice notice” stemmed from the “likelihood” that if a commercial relationship was in place with some products featured in some clips, then “there would be potential problems under the rules”. In both instances it was decided there was no need to investigate, merely a need to send out guidelines explaining how to correctly mark posts if linked to a paid-for deal.
They added that the recent contact with Mrs Hinchliffe resulted in her “labelling certain posts as ads, meaning we can infer that she now understands the need to disclose where there is a commercial relationship in place”.
There is no suggestion Mrs Hinchliffe has ever breached any ASA rules regarding her posts and stories, but her rise from housewife to online sensation illustrates how members of the public are seen increasingly as an “authentic” way of advertising.
Mrs Hinchliffe launched her Instagram account (mrshinchhome) in March 2017 from the home she and her husband, Jamie, bought on the outskirts of Maldon, Essex. A year later, 1,000 people were following her Instagram cleaning “stories”.
In her broadcasts she is chatty, down to earth and humorous (her duster is Dave, she owns Gregory gloves and “Cliff ” cream cleaner, all kept in the cupboard – or Narnia – under the kitchen sink). She even films herself excitedly roaming homecare aisles of budget stores on “Hinch hauls” (shopping trips) before trying out “bargs” (bargains) at home. She coined the word “Hinching” to describe cleaning, something she said relieves her anxiety and panic attacks.
In autumn last year, her then 400,000 followers – a self-proclaimed “Hinch Army” – swelled to one million by October after she appeared on ITV’S This Morning. Around that time the “Hinch effect” was illustrated dramatically when shops ran out of Zoflora disinfectant after she posted about it. She did not have a contractual relationship with the manufacturer – she simply liked it.
Big business sensed a star in the making. Gleam Futures, a company with offices in London, Los Angeles
and Sydney teamed up with her last year (it refuses to say when).
According to its website, the firm manages “digital first talent” for a world “driven by clicks, follows, likes and comments” with the promise to “develop, monetise and protect”.
One cleaning company boss, who spoke on condition of anonymity, said that after he thanked Mrs Hinchliffe for a positive post about his goods, Gleam Futures contacted him to suggest a “£10,000 deal” for a “series of promotions”. He declined. Gleam refused to comment, or say how many “partnerships”, if any, it has brokered for Mrs Hinchliffe.
By Christmas it emerged that 11 publishers had been locked in a bidding war for her book, Hinch Yourself Happy. The deal, rumoured to be worth six figures, eventually went to Michael Joseph, part of Penguin Random House, who declared it would be “one of their biggest books for 2019”. It was launched on Thursday by Mrs Hinch, now six months pregnant.
Procter & Gamble (P&G) is very open about how in February she signed a deal to promote a cleaning campaign called “Spritz O’clock”. She went to the firm’s Brussels Innovation Centre to “learn more about the science” of its products and staff worked with her to show her followers “new ways to use” P&G goods.
She has done just that with some vigour. However, the often casual nature of her posts may have led to some of the complaints lodged with the ASA.
One recent Instagram story featured her spraying P&G Febreze in her lounge. A few minutes later, she uploads a picture of the same product nestling on a chair with the caption: “Don’t forget a little spritz can go a long way – the odor [sic] elimination works once slightly damp” before explaining how to get the best from it.
None of these clips were labelled as adverts. A P&G spokesman last night said these posts were not part of her contract, adding that those covered by any deal where she was “briefed” were always correctly labelled as “ads”.
She also gets commission for sales of some Shark products, believed to include a vacuum cleaner and a steam cleaning mop, as part of a deal Shark has with a “third party agency”. She clearly labels as “ads” posts where fans can “swipe up” to open the Shark “buy now” page.
A recent clip shows her praising the “amazing” Shark steam mop before directing fans to the “buy now” page which may be in a sale. Although that clip is not labelled as an “ad” there is no suggestion it breached rules. A Shark spokesman said the firm had stressed to agencies the need for influencers to be “open and transparent”.
Caroline Swain, a commercial solicitor at Charles Russell Speechlys, which specialises in advertising law, says advertising rules struggle to keep up with technological advances. “It is confusing to consumers as much as it is to brands and influencers,” she said. “The aim of advertising regulations and the CMA side of things is to make sure consumers aren’t misled. In this scenario we can’t say definitively if consumers are being misled because we can’t say definitely if they are ads.
“To the extent that they are, there is a problem here. It is an area the ASA needs to continue looking at.”
Mrs Hinchliffe told The Daily Telegraph: “I take the responsibility that comes with having a large social media following very seriously and, for me, being authentic and transparent is incredibly important.
“I’m fortunate that brands want to work with me, but I only collaborate with those that I genuinely like and would recommend to people. I continue to learn a lot, but feel my community are clear about any content that is part of a commercial partnership, and that which isn’t.”
To understand the power of such influencers, consider how Poundland responded when asked if they had a deal with Mrs Hinchliffe.
“We’ve never met her, never paid her and frankly we couldn’t afford her,” a spokesman said.
Not wanting to miss out, however, they created “Mr Pinch”, a bizarre and bewigged male character offering cleaning tips. Unlike Mrs Hinch, the “Pinch Army” numbers in the tens of “likes”, rather than the 2.2million followers for Mrs Hinchliffe. One Poundland post even directly addresses the Gleam agency, saying Mr Pinch is “open to offers”.