How I ruined an influencer's photoshoot

There are several reasons why I prefer working from a café as opposed to staying at home. I enjoy getting to know the people who work there; I like being able to tell myself that I’m supporting a local, independent business; the walk there and back ensures that I actually stay sane. Oh, and I love sitting by the window.

It’s not a goal I can achieve every day, especially as I’m not the earliest riser there is. Still, being able to nab a desk at the front and watch the world go by as I write my pieces for this magazine and others always feels like a great joy. Suddenly, the street becomes my catwalk: I watch the dogs trotting past with their owners, pull faces at the babies being carried in their prams, and rubberneck at interactions which seem intriguing. In short: I have a wonderful time.

In fact, it’s so fun that it would take a lot for me to voluntarily relinquish my spot, when I do manage to grab it. I found this out this morning when a couple walked in, ordered drinks to take away, then went to stand outside. I didn’t really take notice of them at first; I vaguely noted that she seemed quite overdressed while he looked like he may have just rolled out of bed, but didn’t go any further.

I looked down again and kept working. At some point, a few minutes later, I noticed that they were still in my field of vision. Well, more than that: the woman was straight in front of me, by the window, while the man was taking pictures of her, posing by the café front with her fancy, colourful drink. From the number of angles and the ease with which they worked together, I concluded that they weren’t merely a couple.

It was impossible to tell whether they were together or not, but she definitely was an influencer. No-one without either a hefty social media presence or hopes of developing one would be this dedicated to a photoshoot. I watched them for a few minutes while pretending not to, as there was no getting away from the fact that I was in the shot, and they kept trying to come up with inventive ways in which to hide me from view. The café isn’t that big, and apparently they just didn’t want an unshowered freelancer with a ratty ponytail appearing as a background guest star. Weird, huh?

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In any case, gawping at them from my table reminded me of a conversation I had with an acquaintance a few years ago. She’s now in her mid-thirties but I became aware of her 15, nearly 20 years ago, as she blogged about her life in Milan. Her prose was always so fun, and her life sounded so thrilling, especially back when I was still living with my parents in France.

I asked her what she made of influencers, and whether they were just Gen Z’s answer to what we’d been. She told me there was one crucial difference between them and the bloggers we once were, namely that we led real lives then went home to write about them on the internet, whereas they only saw their lives through the lens of what would seem cool online. It’s a subtle shift, but a crucial one.

There was a world, not too long ago, where this woman would have, perhaps, had a fun day running around London with her boyfriend, doing this and that, and would have then gone home and written about it for the benefit of her readers. Of course, said readers would have been on her mind as she was out and about, but only as an afterthought. Today, instead, she dedicated part of her day to standing like this, then like this, no, like this, now like this, all for the benefit of… what? Being able to look back in months and years, and remember the time she stood outside a café for 15 minutes?

Similarly, I just think it was a whole lot more fun to get on the internet and read about the insane escapades of half-mad women, as opposed to endlessly scrolling, dead-eyed, past dozens of pictures of influencers looking for deals with brands. We had a good time but not in a way that fundamentally reshaped our relationship with the real world. I think that was healthier.

Oh and we never looked silly while out and about. That was pretty good, I reckon. We were daft in a million and one ways, but not in that one. I reckon we can take that as a win for the millennials.