Sad life of Splendour In The Grass influencers exposed
Splendour has always been a magnet for influencers – but the reality is very different to what they post on social media. James Weir recaps.
Going to Splendour In The Grass is no longer about going to Splendour In The Grass – it’s about attending events on the periphery of Splendour In The Grass.
“I flew up from Melbourne but I don’t have a ticket! I’m not going! I’m here for the parties!” former Love Island contestant Emily Ward yelled over the nondescript thumpy music at an event hosted by fashion label Nana Judy on Saturday afternoon at the Byron Bay farm owned by Australian musician Angus Stone.
She was standing near the Red Bull bar – one of three drink brands the slew of influencers in attendance were encouraged to hashtag on their social media content for the party. Along with several hundreds of other Instagram models and reality contestants, Emily had been bussed onto the property for an afternoon of socialising and #SponCon.
“They’re not going to Splendour,” an insider at an influencer agency said of the tsunami of social media personalities who’d descended on the town. “They make you think they’re going to Splendour and wearing heels there. But they’re not doing either.
“They’re all pretending. It’s all an illusion. None of them are paid (to be in town for Splendour). For them, it’s enough to be given the opportunity to come and be seen.”
After 21 years in action, Splendour In The Grass has morphed from a weekend for live music lovers into a brand to merely be associated with. Sponsors and social media agencies have attached themselves to the event like hot barnacles on the ass of a really cool whale.
Saturday’s Nana Judy party was another world – or, at least, a 30-minute drive – away from the bogs of North Byron Parklands, where tens of thousands of punters were braving the mud to see headliner The Strokes hit the stage after the previous day’s acts were canned by organisers because of torrential weather. But that was an inconvenience that didn’t affect influencers like Emily.
With almost 80,000 followers on Instagram, the 24-year-old had a packed schedule of parties and content posting. She was part of a group of influencers staying in an $8 million mansion, organised by the social media agency who shipped them into town.
Their days started at 8am. One-by-one, they each filed into the living room for a 30-minute styling session where they were transformed with hair, makeup and a new outfit to ensure they looked their best for the day’s social media posts.
Racks of clothes, sunglasses and accessories filled the rooms of the Big Little Lies-worthy house Emily was staying in. Displays of sponsorship products – from jewellery brand Emma Pills and hair care company Bondi Boost – were stylishly arranged to feature in the background of photos.
The realities of share-house living were hidden away in rooms that wouldn’t feature in social media posts. Sopping wet and stained towels were dumped by people on the floor – or in the bathroom sink, along with a cigarette and tangled wad of fake hair.
It was one of many properties that had been booked by agencies and turned into an influencer halfway house for the weekend.
Was it like living in a really stylish boarding school?
“Or a jail,” one influencer with close to a million followers snipped.
Another Instagrammer said some houses were accommodating between 10 and 20 girls – many of whom only met when they became sudden housemates for the weekend.
“We snuck out at 11.30am,” Jami Knight, who has 363,000 followers on Instagram said, after escaping to the Nana Judy party.
Her agency had hoped that she would remain in the influencer compound for the day to make content for a fashion label.
“It’s f**king lit,” she said while hanging out in one of the Balinese huts. “The vibe, the people.”
The following day, she’d post photos of girls at her house getting vitamin IV drips while lazing on the couch in pink robes.
“The acts are amazing,” she added, seemingly about Australian musician Baker Boy, who’d just performed a three-song set at the invite-only party.
Who was her favourite act?
“I dunno – I haven’t been listening.”
Thirty kilometres away at the festival grounds, anticipation was building for The Strokes to hit the stage later in the night. But the influencers had other plans.
“All the Love Island girls are here and they’re like, ‘Let’s just go out in Byron and skip the festival’.”
It was a sentiment felt by many.
“F**k Splendour! I’m not standing in the mud – I’m going to Byron to my friend’s restaurant!” one guy yelled before becoming overwhelmed by the sludge he had to walk through while exiting the party. “I’m calling my dad!”
Still, there were some who decided to see what all the fuss was about.
“I’ll be honest, I don’t know any bands playing,” one stylist said. “It wasn’t really a vibe.”
When they’d had enough of the mud and music, they headed back to the influencer boarding house in a limousine.
“Everything has a way of working out here.”
Twitter, Facebook: @hellojamesweir