If you scroll through the Substack Notes feed on any given day, odds are you will run into at least a couple of posts from the people who just joined the platform that read something like “have been spending a lot more time on Substack than IG and TikTok, and my brain hasn’t felt this good in years.” Coming off the cheap dopamine supplied by the endless stream of visual content on other social media apps, they are experiencing, if not a new, than a forgotten feeling that comes with engaging with a flat and static form of media that demands their active participation. Overwhelmed by the loud and dynamic feeds designed to occupy their attention by the tech giants, professional creators, and brands, they are finding refuge in the quiet, thoughtful, and slow content produced by writers, curators, and researchers.
“The image is on the decline,” states Phillip Pyle in the opening of his 032c essay preaching the rise of text. But even to someone like me, who runs a text-based project, this still sounds like a bold take. Processing visual content is much faster and easier than engaging with text for consumers which means there is more consumption to squeeze out of it and more money to be made. So, why are culture researches, artists, and creative agencies forecasting a mass rise of interest in text-based content in the world that still very much runs on TikTok and IG?
With the rise of social media, fast media – images and video – have become the most prominent form of communication, and the fast mass reproduction of trending editing styles, sayings, and concepts, turned into a rewarded behavior that only increased the value of the original content. Think meme images, or even shizoposting – what used to be an internet-native “iykyk” form of communication has been widely adopted as a marketing strategy by big corporate brands and even presidential candidates, and having shed layers of context, spit back out at us an edgy sales pitch. “We’ve reimagined and recontextualised images at such a rate that we’re starting to lose grip of their meaning,” writes Letty Cole in an essay about the changing hierarchy of formats. “Many of the images we create today mean so much, relate to so much, that they’ve lost their potency, or start to mean nothing at all. This runs in parallel to the flattening of culture we’ve been trapped in: we are culturally, and visually, burnt out.”
In a recent essay about the current state of merch, I quoted a viral tweet from a creative technologist Sean Thielen-Esparza about the mass move towards physical media, products, and experiences among the youth: “The kids are joining running clubs, buying “dumb” phones, woodworking, rocking Walkmans, joining supper clubs, etc because their lives have been swallowed by digital black boxes, and in this moment of uncertainty (tension re: war, AI, climate), they crave tangibility. It’s simple.” In the context of today’s visual-heavy media diet, text too feels analogue.
“There’s a growing craving for digital slowness in my opinion,” Sean explained to me when I reached out to ask why despite the ease of the consumption of visual content, people seem to be increasingly flocking to reading. “Text is a great way to slow down, go deeper, and "work" for the value of the media (in some sense). One way that I might frame the decline of the image, is more so a growing awareness of the effects of cheap dopamine. Same reason why people are choosing to leave dating apps (for in-person dating), seek alternative consumer technology (vs downloading yet another iPhone app), and the rise of sobriety (rather than choosing alcohol as a social lubricant). All of these decisions are harder, in some sense, than the alternative path.”
The Rise of Generative AI
If consumers are already feeling burnt out by the speed of human reproduction of visual content, imagine the acceleration that generative AI can bring to the scene. In the same 032c essay, Pyle calls out this tweet from Paul Skallas reacting to the launch of Sora, an OpenAI model for generating videos: “Video and the "image" is entering its Faustian stage and will burn out. I'm long on text.”
Strangely enough, AI isn’t discussed as a threat to text as a format nearly as much as it is discussed in relation to visual content, even though it is well-capable of generating both. I haven’t found any definite explanation for this, so my running theory is that the people who are interested in using AI to subsidize content production, like Klarna CEO here, are doing so purely out of financial interest and therefore, are looking to get the most return on their investment. In that sense, using AI to create text feels like forging one dollar bills instead of hundreds, because ultimately, image and video production is more expensive and more effective at occupying our passive attention than text. Plus, consumers who are flocking to text media, are more actively engaged with it than those scrolling past AI-generated images on a social media feed, which makes it harder to get away with imperfections and lack of depth in artificial content. I might not think twice about the images on Klarna’s IG feed feeling a little boring (if anything, I would expect a fintech company’s feed to be boring) but I can flag newsletters, brand taglines, and even brand IG captions written with the help of AI.
Ultimately, will AI even be an issue when it comes to consumer trust though? “If we fast-forward 5 years into the future, I think it will be an assumption that most media has been altered/generated by AI,” Sean told me. “At the same time, I think phone & camera manufacturers will attempt to standardize hardware features that verify photos produced on device, and likely partner with social media platforms to distribute that standard. Unclear whether people will trust that, or even think twice about AI-free media outside of the context of political/social-economic content.”
Every time I run into a writing block, I think about how using AI to recalibrate my brain or find synonyms feels like cheating. But if I had to get out on my own every time I got stuck, would I even have the patience to keep writing, and therefore, become a better writer? If we compare AI technology to CGI technology in movies, it doesn’t seem like in mass, people care that super heroes aren’t actually jumping off skyscrapers as long as the CGI is good. Obviously, there are cinephiles that care deeply about the craft, but even they have appreciation for computer technology in movies, like Dune, where it lives alongside great acting, impressive camera work, and an interesting storyline. Worst comes to worst, high-quality human-produced content will live on as a premium. We are already seeing that with the hyperrealistic visual social media content produced by brands with the help of technology – first, people loved the giant CGI Jacquemus bag cruising through the streets of Paris, and then they loved the giant Jacquemus bag popup in Seoul even more.
So, what’s next for the image?
The overall consensus is that in the hierarchy of formats, visuals are on the decline. The only points of deviation between the culture critics are exactly how and by how much. Some, like Pyle, are convinced that images and text will morph into a new format – text image – an image that relies on text as the primary marker of meaning. My favorite example of this phenomena, besides Charli XCX’s Brat album cover (which you can read more about here) is a fashion blog STYLE NOT COM. With fashion being an inherently very visual industry, it sounds insane that someone would post about in a text-first format. And yet, this decision proves to be genius every fashion week – while everyone’s feed is flooded with videos and photos from the same shows, STYLE NOT COM text remarks about the overall atmosphere, industry gossip, and guests cut through the noise. If the last time, visual platforms, like Instagram, experienced an in-flux of text content can be traced back to 2020 political activism, today, it’s the go-to format for culturally rich “iykyk” editorials for people working in creative industries, like Perfectly Imperfect, Screen Slate, 1 Granary, and the thing magazine. And whenever “scene cool” culture is produced in a certain format, it tends to trickle down to the masses – for example, Perfectly Imperfect just featured Olivia Rodrigo, Emma Chamberlain, and Omar Apollo.
Other critics, like Ana Victoria Dzinic here, say that images have already lost all meaning and trust from the audience, but are still powerful when used to tell a story alongside other images or media. As she explains it in the context of Instagram, it’s less about trying to produce a single striking image, and more about arranging a grid that follows a cohesive narrative over time.
There is no guarantee that text too won't become overwhelming with tech companies, like Substack and Behiive, growing rapidly. Although heavily reliant on mailing lists and subscriber recommendations for distribution and growth, Substack newsletters also benefit from the app’s internal distribution feed, called Notes, that rewards formats and voices with viral potential. Behiive has an ad network that lets writers buy up ad space in other people’s posts without ever contacting them directly. Newsletters aren’t a radically new format either, and in their current form that combines a mailing list and a website, they look like a hybrid of emails and blogs – both of which were corrupted by a high influx of low-quality content and businesses using them for SEO and retention purposes. “I do think many young people are being exposed to the concept of the personal blog for the first time via Substack,” a youth culture researcher and the writer of After School Casey Lewis pointed out to me. “It’s created a first-person writing boom that reminds me of the early 2000s. As we learned back then, though, this becomes oversaturated quite quickly.”
Still, consistently producing high-quality text content is hard. And if on the consumer side, reading is a more labor-intensive activity than scrolling a video or an image feed, one can argue that it’s only really worth it when the quality of the writing is high too. People aren’t flocking to text because they are craving a format change per se, but because they are craving quality, humanity, meaning, and slowing down, which means that fast, low-quality text entries are closer in spirit to low-quality images than other text. “I don't know if I see text and image as a binary, even though the [032c] article itself talks about the text-image, we are literally in an age of using text to generate images via AI tools,” told me Grace Gordon, a brand marketer and the founder of a creative consulting agency Goodgame. “I see both becoming increasingly codependent. I think our most popular and frequently used channels and mediums are becoming increasingly visual, however I also think with that, the bar for what makes a compelling image is raised.”
Ultimately, this anxiety around the rapid production of text potentially compromising its quality is a signal of a broader shift in how consumers discover and engage with any media. “Maybe this is another reason why print media is having a resurgence – the internet is becoming an increasingly unnavigable Takeshi’s castle-style obstacle course of terrible user experience and useless, nonsensical content,” says a writer and podcaster Georgia Graham in response to an essay about the AI-induced weirdness of the internet. “Finding any real, reliable or quality information becomes like hunting for pearls in a swamp full of garbage.” In the current cultural climate, it just so happens that high-quality text is easier to come by because we’ve prioritized video and image production for so long – there is much more content slop one has to dig through to find a compelling visual. The resurgence of text media coincides with the resurgence of cult-like interest in indie cinema, photography books, and print magazines with collectible covers. So, just because high-quality visual media is getting lost in the abundance of low-quality visuals on the internet, doesn’t mean it can’t regain its status and audience in the context of magazine pages, book stores, and movie theaters. And when the hype around text media reaches its peak, there will still be an opportunity for high-quality writing to gain traction – the go-to channels for it just might not be Substack, Instagram, or digital magazines.
Climax Books, a curator, seller, and publisher of rare books, founded by Acne Studios CMO Isabella Burley, just opened its NYC store. On the shelves are not only the new Simone Rocha book and the High Times issue with Milla Jovovich on the cover, but also a line of merch, co-designed together with a cult-followed fashion brand Chopova Lowena – a couple of tops, a necklace, and an underwear set. This playful collaboration wouldn’t be the first time a luxury fashion brand came in association with books and publishing. A few years ago, Valentino and Chanel started gifting books to influencers, Peter Do produced his first Helmut Lang show in collaboration with a poet and essayist Ocean Vuong, and the masterminds behind F. Miller skincare just launched an elevated sportswear brand called Literary Sport.
Around the same time, today’s biggest “it girls” Kaia Gerber and Dua Lipa started interviewing buzzy writers for their online book clubs, and young A-list celebrities Jacob Elordi and Kendall Jenner got photographed with downtown’s favorite paperbacks in their hands. The message is loud and clear – reading, and more broadly, intelligence, are chic and sexy – and brands and celebrities want in on it. “When I was doing book exchanges with friends in 2015 to 2019, it felt really niche - there was little to no interest from most people (let alone brands!), it was something I just did with friends and family,” told me Jordan Santos, the founder of a community for readers called Seen Library. “When I started Seen Library (officially) in 2021, a couple of brands began to express interest, which was surprising to me as it never occurred to me that something like a book exchange could be seen as marketable. Fast forward to 2024, it’s changed a lot. I’d say I get inquiries from brands about collaborations at least a couple times a month, compared to just two brands expressing interest in all of 2022.”
So, what’s in it for brands? A few years ago, Dena Yago wrote a piece on the Content Industrial Complex where she talked about luxury brands, like Lexus, casting artists in editorial content: “These advertorials further the notion that it is the brand that facilitates creative production – Lexus as an essential ingredient of the artistic secret sauce.” This sentiment still stands today. Through collaborations with buzzy actors, filmmakers, and craftsmen, Loewe became pretty much synonymous with creativity and playful sophistication, and The Row reached a $1B evaluation by creating a strong association between their stoic designs and minimalist art. The same notion can be extended to the brands affiliated with writers and literature – not only do they design and produce luxury products, they also touch and shape culture as a whole. So, when you buy a jacket or a perfume from them, you aren’t just shopping, you are getting an entry ticket into the creative class.
While reading and intelligence framed as hot and aspirational is certainly a win for culture compared to the heroin chic of the 90s or even the resurgence of the indie sleaze, most of the high-status literature engagements have a certain air of exclusivity to them. From Kaia Gerber’s Library Science Readings at the Newport Beach library to Miu Miu’s Literary Club – one can’t just show up to these things. “The beauty of books and reading is that it’s universal – something accessible (or should be) to most people,” Jordan commented. “But I guess from a brand perspective, especially luxury brands, there’s a certain level of aspiration you want to keep and you can only do that by including some and excluding others and creating that desire – whether it’s for access to a book club or a $10,000 bag. I think this exclusivity can absolutely affect how people think about writing and reading in a negative way – that it’s reserved only for some… those who are well-connected, wealthy, white, thin, beautiful. I say that because that’s who I typically see when seeing some of these branded literary moments online and because I’ve even felt like that myself at times. Some of these branded literary initiatives feel intimidating and super intellectual. I read a lot, but I’ve never felt confident speaking about books in an educated way. I’m not well-versed in the classics.”
With high-quality text content increasingly going behind a paywall on media websites, Patreon, and Substack, there is already a very real possibility that we will see a growing media gap between the people who can afford to pay for print magazines, newsletter, and books, and those whose information sources are limited to the free social media content that’s designed to be quick, lo-fi, and easy to digest. It doesn’t help that most brands still reserve their text media projects and literary initiatives for specific audiences only. That is why brand initiatives, like Miu Miu’s book giveaway Summer Reads, Jordan’s own Seen Library reading rooms and meetups, and Aesop’s Queer Library feel so refreshing and innovative. Curating literature that represents diverse voices and framing reading as a playful community (or solidary) activity rather than a posh hobby, they are able to attract a wider range of people who don’t normally see much representation both in the literary and the luxury worlds. Maybe the reason why text media isn’t spreading through the masses quite like a wildfire is because there is a shortage of brands that deem the masses worthy of high-effort marketing and community initiatives and not because there is a shortage of mass interest in text.
Let’s get this straight – writers have always been cool. From F. Scott Fitzgerald and Joan Didion to Lucy and Plum Sykes, they’ve always moved culture and benefited from being part of the larger downtown scene. “I moved to New York in 2010 when being a writer was decidedly cool, or maybe my memory of things was clouded by the fact that I was a journalism grad who’d always dreamt of moving to New York to be a writer,” Casey Lewis told me. “Looking back, I don’t know that being a writer has ever been uncool, but again, maybe my perspective is clouded because of my career choices. Either way, I do think that other jobs became cooler, like working in tech. Around 2013-2015, I recall a bunch of editors “pivoting to tech,” mostly in comms and content roles, and I remember being envious not just of their tech money but of the perceived clout that came with the roles. I was about to say “it’s a lot harder to make a living as a writer these days,” but now that I think about it, I actually don’t know if that’s true. There are fewer publications hiring for salaried positions, but there are so many different ways to make money as someone who’s decent with words.” In fact, in the past few years, we have watched a whole new generation of “literary it girls,” buzzy magazine writers, and newsletter darlings with a scrappy entrepreneurial mindset carve out radically new ways to touch culture and monetize their work. Using social media, events, merch, and self-publishing platforms, they were able to build out a whole cohesive universe around their work and market it to an audience outside of the traditional literary world.
It’s unclear what happened first – writers approaching brands to pitch collaborations or brands tapping writers to participate in their events and campaigns. “It depends what level of brand we’re talking about,” explained Sophia June, the writer who coined the term “literary it girl” at Nylon. “The modern day “literary it girls” I wrote about, engage smaller brands (perfume makers and clothing designers, in particular) to help craft merchandise for their books. Larger brands like Miu Miu and DKNY, which have tapped into the literary It Girl phenomenon with pop-up book giveaways, didn’t actually engage any living authors. Brands like Proenza-Schouler, who had a partnership with Ottessa Moshfegh, could have gone either way: that’s where the sweet spot is.” One thing is for certain: with Nicolaia Rips writing the show notes for Sandy Liang AW24, Otessa Moshfegh strutting down the Maryam Nassir Zadeh’s FW22 runway, and Laura Reilly sitting front row at Paris Fashion Week shows, writing became a steady entry point into the luxury world and a gateway into a multifaceted career. “I don’t want to be a full-time writer, I want to be an Internet personality,” Taylor Lorenze, a prominent internet culture reporter, told The New Yorker, when she left The Washington Post to start an independent newsletter earlier this month.
It’s safe to say that the rapid growth of newsletter platforms, like Substack and Behiive, that made publishing, distribution, and most importantly, monetization of text media easy and accessible to the masses, gave the concept of ‘writer as influencer’ a whole new meaning. If IG made everyone want to be a model and YouTube – a filmmaker, Substack and brand partnership opportunities that come with a sizable mailing list, made everyone want to be not only a writer, but rather an owner and operator of an independent media business. But it was only a matter of time before these new financial incentives and possibilities sparked a whole new round of heated conversations about “selling out” – the ‘literary it girls,’ the writers of popular newsletters, and independent publications, like Byline, have been catching strays for experimenting with creative brand integrations and talent collaborations to monetize and market their work.
“THE VERY MARKET FORCES THAT INFLUENCE SOME TO THINK “OUT OF THE BOX” ABOUT SELLING THEIR WORK, ALSO INFLUENCE JEALOUSY, COMPARISON, AND IRE…WHY, WHEN IT COMES TO WOMEN WRITERS, IS IT SO HARD FOR SOME TO COMPREHEND THAT WE CAN BE BOTH SOCIAL AND SMART? SAVVY MARKETERS OF OUR WORK AND WRITERS OF WORK THAT LASTS?” – ALLIE ROWBOTTOM, THE AUTHOR OF AESTHETICA AND JELL-O GIRLS IN BYLINE.
“THE WRITER-AS-INFLUENCER ISN'T AN ISSUE IF THE WRITING IS GOOD OR WEIRD OR NEW. BUT THE ASININE IDEAS THAT SERVE AS QUIRKED-UP PHOTO OPS TO FEATURE ON THE GRID BETWEEN SPONSORED SOCK ADS...I HATE THAT SHIT. U REALLY SAID "MASCARA SYMBOLIZES RESILIENCE" !!” – GRETA RAINBOW ON THIS MASCARA PIECE IN BYLINE.
“IN TODAY’S SOCIETY, WE WOULDN’T BEGRUDGE ANY WRITER FOR GETTING PAID, UNLESS IT WAS FROM A COMPANY WITH BAD POLITICS. WE MAKE SO LITTLE MONEY DOING WHAT WE DO. SELLING OUT ISN’T REALLY A THING WHEN WE’RE UNDER THE SIEGE OF LATE-STAGE CAPITALISM,” – SOPHIA JUNE AND LAYLA HALABIAN OF LANGUAGE ARTS.
“WHEN SOMEONE ASKS ME IF I STILL CONSIDER MYSELF AN INFLUENCER, THAT WHISPER OF DISCOMFORT IN THEIR VOICE, I WANT TO EXPLAIN ALL OF THIS SOMETIMES. I WANT TO ADMIT THAT I SOMETIMES SUSPECT THIS TYPE OF SEXISM IN MYSELF, THAT I’VE INTERNALIZED IT, AND THAT HONESTLY, YES, THERE WAS SOME PART OF ME THAT ABSOLUTELY BELIEVED NO ONE WOULD TAKE ME SERIOUSLY AS AN AUTHOR IF I WAS ALSO A CAPITAL-I-INFLUENCER. BUT THIS ALSO ISN’T WHY I GRADUALLY PULLED BACK FROM THE DAILY LINKS OR THE WEEKLY BRAND PARTNERSHIPS OVER THE PAST YEAR AND A HALF, EITHER. THE SIMPLEST WAY TO EXPLAIN THAT CHOICE, MAYBE, IS THAT THOUGH I DON’T THINK THE CURRENT VERSION OF MY CAREER MAKES ME BETTER OR MORE NOBLE THAN THE CAPITAL-I-INFLUENCER VERSION OF MYSELF OR ANYONE ELSE, I AM ALSO HAPPY I STEPPED BACK,” OLIVIA MUENTER, THE AUTHOR OF SUCH A BAD INFLUENCE ON HER DECISION TO ROLL BACK HER INFLUENCER CAREER.
“MANY EDITORS WORKING AS STYLISTS OR WRITERS, OR IN ANY OTHER ROLES IN MAGAZINES, HAVE FOR MANY YEARS SUPPLEMENTED THEIR INCOME QUIETLY, BY WORKING FOR FASHION BRANDS, OR BEING PAID BY FASHION BRANDS AS CONSULTANTS, OR DOING WORK AS AN INFLUENCER. THERE ARE PEOPLE WHO HAVE EVEN REVIEWED COLLECTIONS THAT HAVE PERSONALLY TAKEN MONEY FROM THE COMPANY TO WRITE ABOUT WITH A PRESS TEXT OR STYLE OR WHATEVER IT HAPPENS TO BE,” DAN THAWLEY, WRITER AND BRAND CONSULTANT FOR 1 GRANARY.
What’s no less interesting is that there seems to be a gap between the increasing amount of publicity and brand interest writers are getting and the amount of money they make from selling their work to readers. Judging by the latest publishing industry stats cited in this piece from Airmail and this breakdown of DOJ’s suit to block Penguin Random House from buying Simon & Schuster from Elle Griffin’s The Elysian alone, consumers outside of the traditional literary scene are much more interested in engaging with writers as personalities and characters associated with their favorite brands than paying for and actually reading their work. And that does not necessarily put in question the quality of work coming from the buzzy authors, it just looks like there is a general lack of deep engagement with the publishing industry: “Every year, in thousands of ideas and dreams, only a few make it to the top. So I call it the Silicon Valley of media. We are angel investors of our authors and their dreams, their stories,” said Markus Dohle, CEO, Penguin Random House. On Substack, the situation is pretty similar – despite the platform’s consistent promise of easy and accessible monetization to writers, paid readers make up as little as 3 to 10 percent of writers’ overall audience and only a small percent of the platform’s top writers are able to make a sizable amount of income. The idea of what it’s like to be a writer and the benefit of associating yourself with their work goes much further than the time and money people are willing to spend to directly support and engage with them – which means that most of the time, exploring creative monetization avenues and brand partnerships are still very much a necessity for writers to be able to make a sustainable living and fund their creative endeavors rather than a greedy capitalistic aspiration.
Besides elevating brand identities to the level of luxury and helping them get attention of the creative class, text media has also been a powerful driver of culture for the past few decades – or at least, before the rapid growth of social media and the big media’s “pivot to video.” While TikTok and Instagram still have a tight grip on mass discourse and provide a great channel for quick mass distribution, text media has doubled down on its superpower to communicate complex ideas and create a strong community around them. Since reading requires much more effort and proactive attention than passively scrolling through a feed, the connections it creates are much stronger than those from the images and videos people discover via an algorithm.
Some of the biggest, culture-defining companies of the past decade started as online blogs – Glossier, Violet Grey, Highsnobiety, and Man Repeller. And while some of them have struggled to maintain their business or have put text content on the backburner in the past few years, all of them have recently decided to reinvest in writing in some way. Daise Bedolla is leading the revamp of Into The Gloss, Willa Bennett has gotten Gen Z excited about print media at Highsnobiety before moving on to Cosmopolitan and Seventeen, Leandra Medine Cohen has restarted her blog under the name of The Cereal Aisle, and Violet Grey’s founder Cassandra Grey bought her business back from Farfetch with the intention to reinvest in the community it used to have.
At the same time, a whole new generation of younger brands have emerged from newsletters and blogs. A popular downtown recommendations newsletter, called Perfectly Imperfect, has evolved from a Substack newsletter into their own site that mixes editorial and social recommendations. A daily entertainment and culture newsletter Dirt expanded their business through creative collaborations, podcasting, and live shows. Baby Dream Press’s Love/Hate Lists grew into a literary entertainment company that puts together readings and writing clubs among other things. Thanks to their unlikely decision to create text rather than visual content at the time when video was exploding a few years ago, the teams behind these projects were able to develop a community strong enough to kick off whole new ventures.
But maybe my favorite examples of younger brands tapping into text media to create a deeper cultural impact are On’s OFF Magazine and Satisfy’s Possessed Magazine – both of which feel like a brilliant attempt to reimagine old skate, surf, and streetwear magazines for running, and create a similar strong subculture and community around it. Satisfy’s editorial is a central part of their brand. They feature professional runners, like Zack Miller and Courtney Dauwalter, hobby runners from the zeitgeist, like Riley Hawk and Michelle Li, and a bunch of fun entertainment beats, like horoscopes, playlists, and an advice column. “I love the Satisfy editorial effort because it’s a reflection of the brand's size and attitude,” told me Grace Gordon. “Punching above its weight and still trying to communicate its identity, personality and values to would-be customers or lovers of the brand. For a brand like that, with lower awareness but a die-hard following, it gives fans an artifact as they continue to scale. If the goal is to world-build and not drive direct sales from the pages of a magazine, then it’s a home-run.”
On’s print magazine OFF approaches culture even more broadly, featuring profiles of star athletes, like Roger Federer, alongside artists, designers, and creatives, like Corbin Shaw, and guests essays about everything from the complicated relationship between Arctic settlements and the coal industry to circular fashion and the future of psychedelics. OFF magazine runs exclusively in print, and was one of the earlier initiatives in the brand’s transition from its specialty sportswear identity towards a broader, culturally-connected appeal – or at the very least, it came way before their partnerships with Loewe and Zendaya. “To my understanding, the magazine had a few different objectives when it launched: a way to introduce the brand to new audiences who might not otherwise engage with a traditional sports brand, but also a way for On to strengthen bonds with hardcore brand fans on a deeper level, giving them collateral to show their On ‘fandom’ on their coffee tables at home,” explained Alexi Gunner, a Berlin-based cultural strategist and a contributor at OFF. “I think the decision to experiment with a print mag early on in their transition just chalks down to an openness to experiment while the business is still solidifying its positioning in the category. And if you consider their core mission - ‘to ignite the human spirit through movement’ - experimenting with a human and organic medium like a print magazine makes sense as a first step to tap into broader running culture.”
While both OFF and Possessed are undoubtedly really strong creative projects, it’s notoriously hard to justify initiatives like this on the business side, especially the ones that take a culture-first approach and avoid advertorial content designed to directly convert into sales. And the fact that the teams at both Satisfy and On were inspired by the old skate, surf, and streetwear magazines doesn’t help since pretty much every indie publication that used to be central to these subcultures and the culture at large in the early 2000s, has since either blown up and became way too commercial to maintain its place in the zeitgeist. Why model something new based on something that didn’t work? “I don’t know if that’s a 1:1 comparison,” Grace told me when I shared this concern with her. “I think media in general has suffered with an overreliance on ad models, declining (or gone) subscription revenue, and probably quite bloated business overhead costs. A non-branded magazine needs subscribers and ads to exist. A branded magazine merely needs the brand itself to have a level of profitability, ideally with some attribution for how the magazine helps to aid in that.”
In general, everyone I’ve discussed the effectiveness of branded in-house editorial with, pointed to the importance of understanding that there is a large variety of marketing objectives that are no less important than direct sales, and setting realistic business expectations for this type of project even though they may be harder to measure. “At the end of the day, it’s one tactic in the wider marketing puzzle, it wouldn’t make sense by itself without all the above-the-line campaigns and retail visibility,” Alexi told me. Grace had a similar take: “I think if we want to scrutinize efforts like branded editorial deeply for measurability or return, we need to have equal rigor for the quality of customers that brands attract through methods favored by more data-driven marketers: like paid social, TikTok Shop, whatever else. How long do those customers stick around? How many of their friends or family do they convert? What is their lifetime value?”
The current state of traditional media is weak – which feels like a good opportunity for brands to move in and make something cool out of it. But from the consumer point of view, is it really a win? Once tech platforms disrupted sustainable monetization models in pretty much every creative industry – film, photography, literature, print – modern culture as a whole leaned into corporate sponsorships and brand collaborations pretty heavily because there are very few financially stable ways to make art independently…and it can get pretty icky! The question remains – can in-house editorial ever be more than a brand marketing exercise?
Both Alexi and Grace sound reassuring. Working in marketing, no matter how far you can push the creative side of a project like this, you are always aware that at the end of the day, it is supposed to do something for the bottom line, even if it’s not directly driving sales. But that doesn’t mean you can’t have fun with it and create something that can move culture in a meaningful way. “After working in this industry for this long, it's hard to unsee the fact that everything is marketing,” Grace told me. “I think the days of having a level of purity around what is real journalism and associated standards of ethics and integrity are getting pretty nebulous. I'm thinking of large, flagship Conde titles that have paid-for Covers that are so clearly part of a big, packaged Event + Cover + Content program for big brand partners; however nowhere on the cover does it say "paid for by your favorite Sneaker Brand". SO, I don't know that a brand just going ahead and creating its own editorial arm is any worse than that; maybe it's ultimately a good thing because there's a level of transparency around the fact this is a branded publication so the agenda is fairly clear.” Alexi reminded me of a great example – a tech and culture magazine, called Real Life, that was launched and funded by Snap Inc: “Some of the best essays of all time at the intersection of tech and humanity were published there up until 2022. It had an intellectual depth that I think made people see Snap in a different light when they found out they were associated with it.”
Recreating something like Real Life, requires a good balance between creative independence and business strategy which is easier said than done. “OFF found a good sweet spot – each magazine featured a theme tied to the brand’s core pillars (movement, design, sustainability etc), but other than that, there was no pressure to mention the brand, its products, or restrain the topics to sports covered by On’s products,” Alexi explained. “I also think that typically, brands pay writers,and photographers much better than regular media work does,” Grace pointed out. “So hopefully that is a net positive for culture if some of that funding from branded projects finds its way into creatives' independent, owned work.”
In the current media landscape and economic environment, is there really such a thing as fully uncompromised, independent creative output unless it’s fully self- or audience-funded? “There is still potential for a magazine to push the boundaries a little more than a big brand, to go more avant-garde with what they create,” Dan Thanwley told 1 Granary in a piece with a very telling title – The future of editors is at brands and not magazines – earlier this week. “But magazines are beholden to advertisers, and if they get it wrong, without the revenue streams of a luxury fashion brand, the risk can be much bigger. And, as magazines take on more of a consumer brand mindset and less of a cultural entity one, there is a narrowing scope for taking risks – it’s not something brands do.” Although, you never know – after a couple of great years of pushing the boundaries of what brand editorial can look like at SSENSE, Thom Bettridge and Steff Yotka just went back to the media side and are going to lead the revamp of i-D after it was purchased by Karlie Kloss and her husband Joshua Kushner – and we are all curious to see what that’s going to look like.
Not all brands approach text content projects the same way – there are definitely those who are watching newsletter platforms, zines, and print magazines gain popularity, and writers become some of the hottest downtown influencers, and are exploring text as an extra opportunity to promote their products. For example, Tory Burch, a fashion brand with one of the best influencer marketing strategies in the market, is playing with Substack in a way that’s reminiscent of old-school fashion blogging…but also their paid talent collaborations and email marketing campaigns. Every post features some sort of “Tory woman” from the zeitgeist who shares a little about herself and her everyday life, followed by her current wishlist that includes a couple of products from her brand and of course, Tory Burch. You can tell that the process here started with a list of products to plug and the rest of the content is a filler meant to make it less obvious. There is very little difference between projects like this and email marketing, and while it may be good for accidental brand discovery, impulse purchases, and reach because of talent features, it’s unclear why anyone would willingly sign up for something like this long-term or get excited by seeing the latest issue.
When I asked Alexi Gunner to share a couple of ground rules that can help brands stay out of the icky brand advertorial territory and take a shot at creating real cultural impact, the first thing he called out was to take a step above the product level to figure out the underlying values that the brand and their audience share, and then “hand those over to a shit-hot editor in chief and give them total control over bringing that to life.” His second golden rule is a little less rock-and-roll but nonetheless important – commitment and longevity: “Countless branded editorial series come and go. Most don’t last. And cultural authenticity is never built overnight. Unfortunately, these initiatives are always the first to be put on the back burner by big brand CMOs, because their commercial value is always so difficult to measure.” His go-to example for what commitment looks like is the Red Bull Music Academy – not strictly editorial, but an editorially-driven initiative: “If you ask any middle-aged electronic music fan today what they associate Red Bull with the most, they’re going to say RBMA. It helped shape underground cultural discourse in a way still unmatched today by any big brand.”
Another rule you obviously can’t forgo is quality. If it takes more effort on the consumer side to engage with text content, I want to spend my time reading something that’s worth it. A project that pleasantly surprised me in that regard was Hinge’s recent campaign, called No Ordinary Love. In collaboration with Dazed Studio, they commissioned six unlikely love stories featuring a diverse group of couples from a no less diverse group of accomplished writers, like Roxane Gay, John Paul Brammer, and Isle McElroy.
The whole project feels like a packet of stories that The New York Magazine or The Cut could have run, except they would’ve definitely thrown in a few couples with a borderline problematic age gap or a trad relationship dynamic to spike up the conversation (and maybe, Hinge should’ve done that too). And the fact that all the featured relationships started on Hinge didn’t bother me too much just because meeting people on the apps have become such an ordinary part of our lives. What impressed me the most though is that along with the digital and printed zine, and a couple of newsletter sponsorships, Hinge also ran an OOH campaign that was primarily text-based. OOH tends to be a mix of zingers and provocative imagery, so seeing a full quote from Isle McElroy’s story up on the side of a building, feels like a deliberate decision from the teams behind the campaign. Obviously, a one-off campaign like that can’t measure up in cultural impact to something on-going but hopefully, it plants a seed in other marketing teams’ minds that it’s ok to go against the baseline assumptions about consumers, their behaviors, and attention spans and try something that bends the industry’s rules.
Something I am getting increasingly worried about in general is the growing gap between the amount of effort creatives and brands are willing to allocate to paid and free media. It feels like there is an interest towards producing and consuming high-quality text content among the creative elites, and yet they assume that their mass audiences don’t share it. What happens as a result is a constant supply of cheap social media content that either looks like premium content but doesn’t feel like it or doesn’t resemble premium content at all because the two types of media are produced, consumed, and discussed in parallel. “As a millennial who spent years working six-day weeks for top-tier brand builders, I’m naturally drawn to intentional storytelling,” writes Dianna Cohen, the founder of Crown Affair. “I love the process of researching, taking care, and crafting something with meaning… but I also toggle between the reality of the digital world we live in now and the speed required to tread water (and thrive) online. I used to assume the audience was smart — but the truth is, even the smart ones (hi, I see you), no longer have the attention span. It’s not our fault, there’s too much content and too many platforms so the meaty stuff doesn’t always get surfaced in the algorithm.” Meanwhile, the well-researched informative posts that walk people through the history of the ponytail and the blowout are consistently the best performing posts on Crown Affair’s Instagram. Who knows what they could have done in the haircare and hairstyling space if they assumed that their audience is smart.
People are smart, or at least, any brand’s goal should be to talk to those who are because ultimately, they are the ones who drive trends and culture. Young consumers specifically can tell the difference between content that’s authentic and meaningful from content that looks the part but doesn’t feel the part. “I started my career at Teen Vogue, then went to MTV, and I remember we all were hyper aware of voice,” Casey Lewis told me. “We needed to communicate with young people in a way that was relatable and entertaining and in-the-know without trying too hard. It wasn't easy then, and I think it’s even harder now. Young people can always tell when you’re pandering to them.”
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I will leave you with this quote from Mario Gabriele’s brilliant profile of A24’s business in The Generalist:
“The big studios preside over large war chests that must be deployed. Because of their size, it makes little strategic sense for players like Paramount, Columbia, or Warner Bros. to invest $5 million into a small, speculative project that might pull in $30 million. This is why they focus their efforts on high-budget vehicles that have the potential to gross billions globally. To minimize the risk of this outlay, major studios have gravitated towards safe bets like sequels and reboots. Why bet on an unproven indie concept when you can disgorge another iteration of Fast and Furious?
The impact these incentives have had on film production is clear. Over the past thirty years, prequels, sequels, reboots, and spin-offs have come to dominate box office charts. The direction of travel was readily apparent by 2012. Nine years earlier, in 1993, just two of the twenty top-grossing films were derived from “unoriginal” IP. By 2008, that figure had climbed to ten; by 2013, fourteen.
A24’s founders had noticed this decay. Rather than bemoaning it, however, they spotted an opening. Just because big studios didn’t want to make opinionated indie films anymore didn’t mean that audiences didn’t want to watch them. On the contrary, amidst an increasingly homogeneous cultural landscape, projects with a genuine point of view could have an outsized impact. “Films didn’t seem as exciting to us as when we started our careers,” Katz noted. “And that signaled an opportunity.”
Creatives love to complain about the depressing state of the mass media landscape filled with cookie-cutter influencer content, commercial editorial, and lo-fi content. But just because that’s all there is, doesn’t mean that’s all people want to see. If anything, it’s an opening to create something new and meaningful. Who would have predicted that there was a very large market for weird, artsy filmmaking a decade ago, when the industry was full of big box blockbusters? And yet, companies, like Neon and A24, were able to build a great business out of it guided by their intuition, respect for opinionated artists, and strong faith in the intelligences of the movie-goers.
Text media is fun, especially now. Of course, it’s daunting to touch something that’s in a shaky state from the wider industry perspective, but it’s also exciting – there are literally no rules for success. Odds are, text projects – both on the brand and the media side – won’t look the same three to five years from now, and if you start creating now, you will be one of the people who get to shape that future.
Independent cultural strategist and the founder of Idle Gaze. You can read more of Alexi’s research and thoughts on contemporary culture in his newsletter.
Youth culture researcher, and brand consultant. Check out her newsletter and podcast about generational shifts, consumer insights, and internet culture After School.
Founder and Chief Brand Officer at Goodgame. Ex-Senior Director of Brand Marketing at Cash App. Subscribe to Grace’s newsletter Great Point by GG for weekly roundups of brand news and creative observations.
Freelance Social Media and Community Consultant, founder of Seen Library. Head to Jordan’s newsletter no one asked to learn more about her projects, thoughts on culture, and day-to-day.
Writer and editor based in New York. Ex-Culture Editor at Nylon. Together with Sophia June, Layla writes Language Arts - a newsletter about indie and emerging literature and writers.
An independent creative technologist and an object maker based in NYC. Check out his product and brand studio Menagerie and follow him on Twitter.
Writer based in Brooklyn. Previously Culture Writer at Nylon. Together with Layla Halabian, Sophia writes Language Arts - a newsletter about indie and emerging literature and writers.