Unveiling the Curious Copycat Aesthetic of New York City Influencers

If you’ve been on TikTok lately, your FYP (For You Page) has probably been taken over by the New York City influencers drama.

It all started with a casual post from @martinifeeny, where she vented, “I hate all of the New York influencers. I think they’re boring as f—- and carbon copies of one another.” 

Meant only for her small group of followers, the video unexpectedly blew up (over 2 million viewers) and landed on everyone’s FYP.

Creators, influencers, and basically everyone on the app started stitching and reacting to it. Some agreed, disagreed, and even started naming their least favorite influencers– despite the fact that the original video didn’t mention any names. 

So, is this sameness just a coincidence– or is there something deeper happening behind the scenes? Let’s dive in together. 

The Roots of the “New York City Influencers are Boring” Drama 

One stitch that went viral– and successfully pushed the conversation beyond just “boring New York City influencers”–came from Brigette Pheloung, known on TikTok as @acquiredstyle.

In her now-deleted video, she sarcastically responded to Martini’s rant, taking it personally even though no names were mentioned. 

Known for her day in my life living in NYC content–think iced matcha latte, cute outfit, Alo gym, and curated glimpses of life in a luxury NYC apartment–Brigette unintentionally became the face of everything Martini’s video called out. 

Her response fueled the discourse, opening up a bigger conversation: Why do so many New York City influencers  look and act the same? As creator @nia.papayaa put it in her own response, they’re often “White, rich, blonde, and thin.” 

Why So Many New York City Influencers Post the Same Content? 

The sameness you see on TikTok–day in my life vlogs, get ready with me (GRWM) routines, and making iced latte with me videos– isn’t always about being boring or basic. It’s often about getting on people’s FYP. 

When one kind of video does well, creators often repeat it. Not because they’re copying each other, but because it works. According to Hootsuite’s breakdown of the TikTok algorithm, the algorithm is designed to show content to people clustered around similar interests.

Your TikTok’s algorithm is curated based on what you engage with, and then keeps showing you more of that type of content. So, the content that keeps showing up is shaped by what we click on, comment on, and keep watching. 

Since many New York City influencers are targeting the same type of audience– young women interested in fashion, wellness, beauty, and lifestyle– their content naturally looks similar. If one video—like a GRWM in a West Village apartment—performs well, the algorithm pushes similar videos to that same niche audience. 

That’s why it feels like all of them are the same– wearing the same outfits, having the same brownstone backdrop video, and shopping at SoHo. But that's not always about copying— it’s about staying visible in a system that favors sameness.

It’s More than just the Algorithm– It’s also Who’s Behind It 

Getting on the FYP is one part of it, but the sameness among these influencers goes deeper than algorithm hacks. Behind the scenes, there's a kind of factory system at play. Influencers are told to follow specific styles and aesthetics because that’s what the management and brands want them to be known for. 

TikTok creator and pop-culture commentator @InternetAnthropology describes this as a content franchise model in her response to the drama.

A content franchise is a recurring content series built around similar themes, formats, or visuals—like daily vlogs, GRWMs, or hauls. Instead of trying something new every time, creators stick with what works to build familiarity and trust with their audience. 

This makes us wonder: Who is behind this content blueprint? 

Shana Davis-Ross is the one behind all these “carbon copies” New York City influencers. As the founder of the Ponte Firm, a branding and management agency, she’s helped shape the personal brands of many NYC-based creators into what’s now known as the “West Village Girl.” Think shiny blowouts, neutral-toned outfits, chic coffee runs, and fancy dinner reservations.

Many of the influencers under her branding– speaking of @Kit Keenan, @Audrey Peters, and @Gretalouisetome – follow the same formula that aligns with what their audience and brands all expect. 

It's not that they're all the same by accident–it's that they were built to be.

Looking the Same Goes Deeper than Clothes 

The sameness we see among these Influencers isn’t just about what they wear– it’s also about who they are and how they act. Multiple mid-tier creators, including Alicia Mae Holloway, mentioned the “mean girl energy” some influencers give off, especially at brand events on her video. 

She wasn’t the only one who felt that way. Another TikTok creator, Olivia Joan, shared her experiences meeting those influencers on her viral video.

She explained, “When you see them online, they are the kindest and sweetest people, but to the smaller creators, they are awful.” Olivia also touched on how being a Black female creator in a white dominated field, where stereotypes already exist against her, made those spaces feel even more isolating.

Her video reflects the NYC influencer culture that reinforces a deeper system of exclusion rooted in whiteness and wealth. The more you conform, the more you fit in. 

So, What Does It Tell Us? 

At first, it might seem like New York City influencers all looking the same is just a trend. But when you look closer, it’s not just about outfits or aesthetics—it’s about the systems that shape what goes viral, who gets visibility, and what brands choose to work with.

The sameness we see is driven by the algorithm, but also by other factors: branding strategy, influencer management, audience expectations, and cultural standards. And when most of the influencers get popular for their look in a certain way—white, thin, rich, and blonde—it leaves very little room for difference.

The point isn’t to cancel influencers or say they’re all the same on purpose. It’s to ask why the system keeps producing the same results, and what we can do about it. 

But it all goes back again to us as consumers. If we want more diversity in the content we consume, we have to be intentional about who we follow, engage with, and support. 

✍️ Written by Richelle Ngo