Deinfluencing: The emerging trend on social media promoting mindful consumption and challenging Influencer culture

In 2019, Ohio-based Diana Wiebe stumbled across a TikTok influencer promoting heatless curling rods. Intrigued by the promise of waking up to flawless curls, she bought them. However, the experience didn’t live up to the hype. “Honestly, the curlers really disrupted my sleep, and I didn’t make it past night one,” she shared with the BBC. Realizing her naturally wavy hair didn’t need the product, it became just another addition to a growing list of purchases influenced by TikTok that she quickly regretted.

Fast forward to 2025, and Wiebe now stands on the other side of the influencer spectrum. With over 200,000 TikTok followers, she’s part of a rising movement encouraging people to rethink their purchases. Through her daily videos, Wiebe asks followers questions like, “Did you want that product before it was marketed to you?” She also critiques trends such as weekly clothing hauls, emphasizing that such practices are far from normal consumption habits.

De-influencing

The movement, which gained momentum in 2023, challenges traditional influencer culture. On TikTok, hashtags like #deinfluencing, #underconsumptioncore, and #consciousconsumer have collectively garnered billions of views. Advocates like Wiebe promote messages such as “fast fashion won’t make you stylish” and “underconsumption is normal consumption.”

Wiebe believes this cultural shift signals a significant turning point, noting, “Some influencer content is just rage-bait.” She references videos showcasing frivolous products like water bottles accessorized with snack trays filled with fast food. “It’s designed to provoke reactions and rack up views,” she says.

While TikTok and Instagram, remain a hub for influencers, its uncertain future in the U.S. may accelerate change. Wiebe observes that the type of content thriving on TikTok—such as haul videos—hasn’t reached the same intensity on platforms like Instagram. She attributes this to growing awareness of influencer marketing tactics. “When I realized how much I’d bought because of TikTok reviews, it hit me—it’s all advertising,” she says. Unlike traditional commercials, influencer promotions feel more personal, akin to advice from a friend.

Wiebe’s content receives a mix of reactions. Positive comments often express gratitude, such as, “I needed to hear this advice today.” Critics, however, question her involvement in others’ spending habits. Wiebe clarifies that her goal isn’t to advocate for a “no-buy” lifestyle but to encourage thoughtful purchasing. “It’s about slowing down and thinking before rushing into a purchase,” she explains, contrasting her philosophy with the influencer mantra of “run, don’t walk.”

The movement’s mindset has also inspired others, including Christina Mychaskiw, a creator on YouTube, TikTok, and Instagram. Mychaskiw helps her audience lead fulfilling lives without financial strain. Reflecting on her own experience, she says, “In 2019, I was $120,000 CAD in debt from student loans and still shopping weekly.” Her wake-up call came when she purchased boots costing more than her rent, knowing she couldn’t afford them.

By promoting a culture of intentional consumption, de-influencers like Wiebe and Mychaskiw are redefining the role of social media creators. Their efforts challenge the relentless push toward overconsumption and offer a refreshing perspective in an era of impulsive shopping trends.