Katy Thomas uses her platform to push for change in the health sector. Photo / Supplied
Many influencers have copped flack for years for pushing bogus products and dangerous body ideals. But a new wave of Kiwi digital creatives are changing the formerly cookie-cutter mould and using their platform for good. Katie Harris reports.
The thigh gap, skinny tea and the Kylie Jenner lip trend.
Once staples of the social media diet, they are now relics, archived to the internet history books of fads we all wish we ignored.
It was a darker time, but negative perceptions of those who make a living from social media have hung around parts of our culture like the smell of tuna does in the office kitchen.
However, a fresh crop of creators are shaking things up, taking off the filters and Photoshop, and challenging traditional notions of what it means to be an influencer.
Rising to prominence a few years back due to her second-hand finds, the creator uses her platform not only to discuss ethical fashion, mental health and skincare but also to warn her community about the harm of emotional abuse.
Before her current husband, Duncan says she was in an emotionally abusive marriage.
"Two or three years on I started sharing about that on social media and the reason for doing that was I had never heard of emotional abuse before. Being able to identify what that was, was a huge part of my being able to leave and kind of take my life back."
She says she still gets messages from people thanking her for sharing her story and telling her they left emotionally abusive relationships after learning about her experience.
Such abuse can include isolating, controlling or verbally assaulting the victim and affects people across demographics.
In the US, almost half of all women and men will experience psychological aggression by an intimate partner in their lifetime.
Opening about her journey wasn't easy, with Duncan noting she did get a little push back, some people didn't think it was appropriate, but she knew it was an important message.
When it comes to her work with fashion brands, she says they need to treat their workers fairly and be transparent about where their products come from if she is going to engage with them.
With skincare companies, she told the Herald they need to be cruelty-free, and she wants to make sure the product is something she'd actually use.
"I think I've only been paid twice by a skincare company, but I've been probably approached by maybe 30 or so. It's very few, but the ones that I do do, I want to make sure that I can wholeheartedly back them."
Duncan's acne journey has also featured on her profile, but instead of shying away from the camera when her skin isn't playing ball, she shares it, and in a recent poll of her followers Duncan found more than 600 also had a skin condition.
"When I grew up, I didn't see people with acne in media, in magazines and so I've chosen to share about my acne because I know that helps other people feel seen and feel more normal."
Influencers are regularly the butt of internet memes and Duncan says they're labelled as "frivolous" or "just marketing" by many, which she tells the Herald isn't fair.
"There are content creators that are more than just ads. And they are giving a lot of really good education around different topics."
If there wasn't meaning behind what she was doing, Duncan feels that she wouldn't be in the business.
Social media also cops a lot of flak from pundits speculating on its impact on mental health however, in her case Duncan says it has benefited her, and allowed her to connect with others who share the same experiences.
"It's also helped me now be able to talk to people face to face. And it's only been this year that I've started going to therapy. So I feel like it's helped me get to that stage . . . which is cool."
University of Canterbury professor Dr Ekant Veer says social media does provide a place for people to speak anonymously about their struggles.
And he says times are changing and many more social media influencers are using their platforms to open up about problems and mental health issues.
How this fits into marketing is even more interesting, with many brands shifting away from the aspirational marketing seen in the "Mad Men" era to a focus on representation, he says.
"That can still be inspirational. Person achieving X, Y and Z, and they have issues with anxiety and they have issues with depression."
Much of this Veer puts down to generational changes.
"In my parents' generation, it was very difficult. You know, if you're having struggles, and you kind of push those feelings down, you don't want to talk too much about them. It's kind of hush-hush."
Data from Statistica shows about 82 per cent of Kiwis use social media and American studies show about 40 per cent use Instagram.
Former TV presenter Katy Thomas was recently beside 7-year-old son Eddy's hospital bed while he lay in a coma, not sure when or if, he was going to make it.
"I just felt overwhelming fear and panic. I was absolutely terrified my son was going to die, and he was in very real danger of it.
"We had to keep him unconscious for like 10 days, 11 days straight. Every single hour was just nail-biting, crushing fear."
All the while she updated her Instagram followers, an honest account of what her and her whānau were going through - pulling at the heartstrings of many.
Eddy has a generalised nocturnal tonic-clonic seizure disorder and a raft of other health conditions.
The 37-year-old says she built her platform to push for health law reform to help Eddy, and others like him, so they can have every opportunity to live and thrive.
"Your average Kiwi thinks the Medicinal Cannabis Amendment Act solved the patient problem. It did not. Only one per cent of medicinal cannabis patients can access legal cannabis right now."
Thomas has been vocal in her support for medicinal cannabis, which she says is the only thing that works for Eddy.
Most of her content, sponsored posts and collaborations are based around this, she says, and working with brands who appear to be actively trying to improve diversity and inclusion in their marketing.
"My audience is predominantly female. I also have a lot of medical mums and disability whānau and I think that when I share content, I make them feel seen. And I elevate all of our voices."
It was only after having Eddy, when Thomas couldn't go back to her usual job, that she began blogging about what they were going through.
And when she feared her son was going to die, Thomas took it one step further.
"I started sharing his seizure footage. Because for me, that was our breaking point, like until that point I had been trying to raise awareness, I'd been trying to tell people about how important health reform was."
But the problems hadn't gone away, so the gloves, "came off".
"I actually don't care whether or not people are ready for it, because this is our life, this is our reality. And I'm just reflecting what hundreds of thousands of New Zealanders are living right now."
Thomas says there are limited options work-wise for solo mums, parents caring for children with disabilities and neurodivergent people.
"Social media allows us the opportunity to work as much as we are physically capable. I put in more than 20 hours a day of caring. And the social media stuff that I post, if you count up the stories, really accounts for more than five minutes of my day."
She said sponsored posts offer her an opportunity to create a revenue stream without stepping away from her main job - as a mum.
"That's something that people need to bear in mind when they're looking at an influencer. What barriers this person might have otherwise encountered that could have prevented them from other work before you judge them for the type of work that they undertake."
For younger social media users, many of whom came of age with TikTok and Instagram as substitute babysitters, the pressure to post only the "best bits" of life has started to melt away.
Just a few years ago, as a teen, content creator Jasmin Johnson began struggling with internal pressure to perform academically and with her body image.
"I kind of started looking at, you know, how can I change myself to look the way that these other people are looking."
When her weight began to drop, Johnson says the compliments flowed in, spurring her on, inspiring her to keep striving to portray the ideal image.
"It wasn't until, you know, kind of a couple years later, then coming out of school that I realised how internally unhealthy I'd become, both In my mind, and you know, physically as well.
"It had very much become an obsession."
Now four years on, Johnson is stronger, healthier and happier than she's ever been, and she's created a community, inspiring others to do the same.
What started out as a creative outlet for her to post food photos has turned into a platform where she openly discusses her struggles, triumphs and her positive outlook on life.
"In some ways, it was like something that I didn't share for a long time, because I was kind of scared to, I guess."
Ironically, when she did speak up, Johnson realised just how many other people could relate and had been through similar things.
Scrolling through the comments section on her body-image posts - shows just how much cut-through her candid online content gets.
"I get messages from people going, like ,thank you for speaking about this, because I thought I was alone. It's just refreshing to hear other people talking about it, because it's just not talked about in day-to-day life."
The reaction Johnson got from sharing her eating struggles came as a "surprise" to her, as she'd held back from discussing it with her online followers in the past for fear of judgment.
Even though people are increasingly discussing mental health, the stigma surrounding the illnesses still exists, and Johnson says it is much easier for her to speak about it online than off.
"I still kind of almost shy away from those conversations in real life because of their kind of like face-to-face judgment and not knowing what that will be."
Veer agreed, saying particularly among men, many won't talk to their partner or their boss or their friends about their struggles with mental health.
"But they will go into an anonymous forum. It's great that people still feel they have a voice to do this."
While the change toward representation is positive, he warns there is a fine line between representation and glorification.
Rugby NRLW player Katelyn Vaha'akolo, 21, is frank, friendly and doesn't take things too seriously - both on and offline.
When it comes to TikTok, the same qualities have helped her build up a nearly 150,000-strong following.
Like Johnson, Vaha'akolo speaks about her struggles with body dysmorphia, mental health, daily life and shares about her te reo journey as well as what it's like being a female athlete in a male-dominated sport.
"I like to post things that I feel like young people, or everyone can relate to. I feel like so much stuff is put out that just is not really helpful or makes people feel like they have to be a certain way, or they have to meet a certain standard."
Even though Vaha'akolo has always been self-aware, knowing her worth isn't defined by what she looks like, as a teen she, too, battled with her body image.
"I kind of conditioned my mind to lie to myself about how to look. And so I believed that over what I knew deep down inside. And I've kind of always struggled with it."
Although she's a professional athlete Vaha'akolo still feels "so much pressure" about how her appearance, but now she knows her value doesn't rely on it.
Sharing your deepest insecurities would make many balk, but if her honesty helps just one person feel comfortable enough to speak up, Vaha'akolo says it's worth it.
"I don't think it's embarrassing to be vulnerable, and to share how they're really feeling. But for me, I loved it. And I think it's so important, especially for young people in our generation. In my generation like it's so common to try put on a brave face or to act like nothing's wrong."
Nothing is off-limits with Vaha'akolo, and she was open about how last year, when she was doing brand content, she deleted her social media page after realising she had become "cautious" about what she was saying.
"I was like, no, this is not why I have social media like I don't want to, why am I like succumbing to the standard society."
Dealing with fame and getting a following isn't easy, and Vaha'akolo says she had to get used to not everyone liking her.
"My mum's always said to me that people's responses to you is as a reflection of who they are, it's a reflection of their character, it's a reflection of the way they look at themselves."
While our real lives become more and more intertwined with our digital ones, these women show it's time the perception behind what makes an "Influencer" changes.
"There's a lot of good that comes from social media, and it just so happens that there are influencers that are doing some of that good," Duncan says.
Where to get help: • 0800 543 354 (0800 LIFELINE) or free text 4357 (HELP) (available 24/7) • https://www.lifeline.org.nz/services/suicide-crisis-helpline • YOUTHLINE: 0800 376 633 • NEED TO TALK? Free call or text 1737 (available 24/7) • KIDSLINE: 0800 543 754 (available 24/7) • WHATSUP: 0800 942 8787 (1pm to 11pm) • DEPRESSION HELPLINE: 0800 111 757 or TEXT 4202 • NATIONAL ANXIETY 24 HR HELPLINE: 0800 269 4389 If it is an emergency and you feel like you or someone else is at risk, call 111.