Online content creators of all sorts packed their bags and boarded their flights last weekend in preparation for the influencer’s Super Bowl, also known as Coachella: a weekend of Instagram posts, get-ready-with-me videos and maybe some concerts in the California desert. 

For years, brands have taken advantage of having social media’s biggest figures in one place for a weekend, with many inviting creators to spend the festival in a brand house on the company’s dime. 

In short, while the average person hoping to attend Coachella can expect to pay thousands for hotels, flights and the festival ticket itself, content creators are provided a first-class experience at minimal cost, and they get the opportunity to make money through posting content during their trip.

Meanwhile, I’m stuck at home watching Sabrina Carpenter’s set from my couch.

Despite all of that, many of us still engage with these creators, thereby funding their extravagant lifestyle. 

University of Minnesota second-year student Dylan Krenz-Bertrand said Generation Z has been socialized to place aesthetic, entertainment and moral value on displays of wealth.

“As kids, we’re conditioning them to look at these people and hold them in high regard,” Krenz-Bertrand said. “So I think it’s really capturing a lot of people, and kind of like any experience that they won’t be able to have themselves.”

Wish fulfillment is a primary reason many of us engage with social media influencers. Those reading about Madeleine White’s beautiful Santorini wedding in Vogue likely understand that they may never be able to afford attending, let alone hosting, that type of event. 

However, this admiration for wealthy influencers can go beyond a desire to live vicariously through Instagram stories. Tech heiress and TikTok creator Rebecca Ma, also known as Becca Bloom, has been dubbed the queen of “RichTok,” posting content displaying her inordinate fortune, from designer clothing hauls to trips on her private jet to feeding her cat caviar.

Although Ma has experienced backlash for flaunting her opulent lifestyle, she also receives praise for remaining down-to-earth and “riching right.”

Though if you ask me, riching right would involve a lot more philanthropy and engagement with the arts and sciences, like some millionaires of prior generations, and a lot less showing what my husband bought me for my birthday.

Not all of this grace is given evenly. Beauty influencer Mikayla Nogueira sparked controversy after posting a designer bag haul with a price tag of thousands of dollars. Viewers criticized Nogueira for her out-of-touch behavior and losing the element of relatability that made her popular in the first place.

University fourth-year student Nai Islam said she used to frequent Reddit snark pages — subreddits where users vent their frustrations about specific content creators and influencer culture as a whole. These spaces serve as an unproductive way for expressing real concerns about class, she added.

“The snark pages is like a way of reclaiming some sort of power, but by the very fact that we are snarking on these people,” Islam said. “We’re wasting our resources to let out this resentment that we feel.”

Some influencers, like White, a former model, and Ma, carried a level of wealth prior to becoming famous online. As such, there was always an awareness that their lifestyles were unattainable to an extent. 

For creators like Nogueira who did not start rich, there is an understanding of class solidarity between her and her audience. Viewers aren’t watching her for the same reason they watch Ma spend an average person’s monthly paycheck on food for her cat. 

So when they see her suddenly achieve heightened levels of wealth, it feels like a betrayal, making her the perfect target for users’ resentments.

Islam said there is an element of classism in these double standards between the old-money and new-money influencers, along with an expectation that they maintain their relatability.

“When you surpass your audience, you can’t alienate them,” Islam said. “You were relying on them for your fame, you are making relatable or seemingly down-to-earth content. But then the moment you get it big, they’re no longer gonna like you.”

Due to the way social media functions, those we make famous online will almost always exceed us in terms of social class. Popularity begets brand deals, merchandise and production deals. 

We cannot stop the influencer-viewer gap, especially when part of the appeal lies in content creators’ access to wealth. But we can change our relationship to the content we consume on social media. 

This novel era of class dynamics fostered by the internet requires a new form of class consciousness, one that recognizes the difference between the layperson and the TikToker and the role we played in giving them that status. Only then can we start to deconstruct our conflicting feelings of resentment, jealousy and admiration toward influencers.

But I’d be lying if I said watching the content creators’ disappointment with Bieberchella wasn’t a little bit cathartic.