I was an avid consumer of comment sections when I was at university. I worked at a call centre and would spend much of my day reading articles on the Guardian and the Daily Mail (I know! I was young and it was one of the few unblocked sites at work) to alleviate boredom.
On reading a particularly interesting or ragebait-y article, I’d eagerly scroll down to read the comments, where others readers were either sharing their thoughts or ripping the author and/or each other to pieces.
Nowadays, a lot of news outlets have removed their comments sections, but I read other peoples’ conversations in another location: TikTok.
Honestly, sometimes the comments are more interesting than the video.
“Omg same”
A couple of months ago, I was watching a video of a marketing consultant who mentioned womenswear brand Odd Muse. And then I saw it.
The comment saying “something rubs me the wrong way about this brand”, followed by a stream of gleeful replies along the lines of “been waiting for someone to say this!”
If you’ve never heard of them, Odd Muse are a mid-luxury womenswear brand based in the UK and owned by Aimee Smale, who founded the brand in 2020. To say it’s blown up would be an understatement; almost 1 million Instagram followers, stores in London and New York and queues around the block for their sample sale in London last year are wildly impressive in just over four years of (self-funded) business.
I discovered Aimee and the brand in Autumn 2023, as she was interviewed on The Break podcast. Although the episode title and notes didn’t actually include Aimee’s full name or any links to her socials, I found her so compelling to listen to that I went on a little detective mission to find her TikTok account and follow along.
At this point, the brand was already successful, but they really came into the public eye in 2024, and Aimee has done a brilliant job of sharing her challenges as a business owner and taking us on the journey with her.
Of course, as the brand has grown, its reception has tipped from positive to a little cynical, with various TikTokers criticising materials the brand uses and the fact that they manufacture in China. And of course, you know you’ve made it when you get your very own Tattle thread.
Firstly, I find it interesting that commentators often zoom in on smaller, often women-led brands for sustainability and ethics instead of criticising the big fast fashion brands who are actually destroying the planet and using unethical manufacturing practices. A sustainable fashion brand is an oxymoron, we all know that, but I’d rather spend my money where I can see that they’re at least making an effort.
That aside, it seems like there’s a tipping point for any woman who becomes successful, when they go from being cheered on by their audience to being picked apart for any weak spots.
And the glee that people (let’s be real, other women) express when a chink in the armour is exposed is something else. I’ve been guilty of this myself in the past - in 2020, while bored in lockdown, I consumed thread upon thread of comments dissecting the the downfall of Man Repeller and The Wing.
The double-edged sword of the personal brand
When it comes to business, women are at a disadvantage. In 2023, women received less than 3% of VC funding, despite female-led companies usually outperforming the return on investment of their male counterparts (source).
So it makes sense that we’ve utilised one of the free resources we have available to grow our businesses: showing up on social media and being the face of our business, AKA building a personal brand.
As a generalisation, women are really good at fostering community and building relationships, both crucial parts of entrepreneurship. We often become quasi-influencers in our quest to build a business without a cushion of funding to pour into other, expensive marketing strategies.
Seeing the founder of the business and watching their growth gives us a personal connection to the brands we buy from. I love knowing that my money is going towards a business I feel invested in.
But it also holds these businesses back. Aside from the obvious issues when it comes to selling or stepping back from their business, they rely on their customers liking and being interested in the founder to make sales. And people are fickle.
The hard pill to swallow
So, what’s the tipping point? What’s the trigger for going from hyping someone to being a hater?
The obvious culprit is jealousy. It’s easy to cheer someone on when their life looks like our own. We see ourselves in their struggles, their daily routine, their drive to succeed.
But once they do succeed, seeing someone else living our dream sticks in the throat. It’s the influencer cycle: we love to see a relatable girlie doing well, until she starts doing a little bit too well and we can no longer relate.
You see her handbag go from Primark to Prada and her big house in the countryside and her “stressful day” of being paid to get free stuff while you’re sitting next to someone with no concept of personal space or access to deodorant on a packed bus, and think it seems like like the kind of stress you wouldn’t mind having, if it was in exchange for a full bank account and wardrobe.
You start to notice things you don’t like about her. She always makes that same stupid face in photos which you used to try and emulate, but now you find it cringe. She always pronounces that one word incorrectly, which used to be endearing but now it’s just annoying. She’s a show off.
So, what’s the answer?
The thing is, we shouldn’t have this much exposure to other people’s lives. Before social media the average person would never see this many beautiful people or get a front row seat inside the lives of the rich, especially at 8am before they’ve even brushed their teeth.
As the gap between celebrity and everyday person has narrowed, the gap between wealth and poverty has increased.
We’re seeing insane amounts of wealth up close at a time when we’re working harder than ever just to afford the basics.
When it comes to female entrepreneurs who are very visible online, they seem like normal women who worked hard and achieved their dream. It feels like it could be possible for us too, if we simply work hard enough.
So you do that for a while, and you realise that it’s not as easy as you thought it would be. You feel inadequate. You start to question their story. They must be secretly rich. Their partner probably pays for everything. They just got lucky.
I don’t think this is just jealousy - or maybe it is, but the average jealousy that we’d usually shake off after seeing the person in question has been amplified as we’re constantly watching other peoples’ lives highlight reels. As both our personal lives and the world in general seem to be getting bleaker, it can feel like salt in the wound to see others doing well. Like we’re just not trying hard enough.
And when we feel jealous of someone, our natural instinct is defensive: to find a flaw, or something unsavoury about them, so we feel better about ourselves. Combine this with algorithms that love drama, people who report on the drama because it gets clicks and an endless sea of people who are happy to rip someone to shreds the second they step a foot wrong, and we’ve got an internet culture which builds women up before taking joy in tearing them down.
My approach might be a little bit twee for some. When I feel envious, I try to reframe it as confirmation that what I want is possible. When I start to find someone annoying, I unfollow them (and usually never think about them again).
Look, I’m not saying that we can’t dislike other women - I’m just saying that next time you’re delving into the downfall of another woman, you might want to question why you’re so interested in it.