Haul videos now feel out of step with a more discerning young audience | Canada Voices

For years, the fashion haul has been a cornerstone of influencer culture: sprawling Zara try-ons, luxury unboxings, Shein mega-orders – content designed to be bingeable and aspirational, inviting viewers into the thrill of the acquisition.

The formula is simple: Content creators go on a shopping spree, then share their purchases on camera by trying them on item by item and asking their followers for feedback on what they should keep. Naturally, many of the videos are sponsored by clothing brands. And the appeal is obvious. Hauls collapse the distance between fantasy and real-life consumption, offering audiences the intimate feeling of shopping with a friend while inviting them to imagine a more stylish, abundant version of their own lives. They promise access, too, to taste, trends and creators’ closets.

But lately, the fashion haul has started to feel different. In a climate of rising costs, environmental anxiety and global crises, videos that once signalled excitement are increasingly being met with discomfort, critique and, in some cases, outright rejection.

It all seemed to start when mega-influencer Mikayla Nogueira posted a six-figure haul featuring Chanel and Louis Vuitton items last September. The online reaction was swift and uneasy, with viewers calling the display out of touch. Through April, during both beauty expo Ulta Beauty World and the Coachella music festival – once reliable opportunities for influencer content – haul-style videos were met with sharper criticism accusing creators of rampant consumerism and lacking substance. Meanwhile, some creators pre-emptively opted out of posting them altogether, saying the format no longer felt fun.

“This is what social media is all about: connecting,” said Jenna Jacobson, associate professor of retail management and director of the Retail Leadership Institute at Toronto Metropolitan University. “They give access to what’s considered ‘backstage moments’ or ‘the before.’ We normally only get access to ‘the after’ or the perfect, polished images.”

Plus, Jacobson added, hauls were optimized for TikTok’s early algorithm, which rewarded visual and repeatable content. “You can always buy more, show more, post more in an endless cycle,” she said.

But that endlessness is now part of the problem. After years of affiliate links, brand trips, gifted products and sponsored posts, audiences have become more fluent in the machinery of influencer culture. For many, a haul no longer looks like a spontaneous shopping trip so much as another cog in the creator economy.

“Audiences are becoming more literate over time,” Jacobson said. “And now we’re seeing it at scale. Haul videos almost feel industrial, where you’re seeing millions of people doing the same things.”

That’s not to say audiences have rejected fashion content entirely. In fact, influencer culture remains powerful. But viewers are becoming more discerning about what kind of influence they want to see, and what kind of consumption they’re willing to celebrate.

Sharon Lauricella, professor of communication and digital media studies at Ontario Tech University in Oshawa, said haul content has always reflected the wider social and economic climate. “Media plays a dual role: It tells us what to think and do, but also reflects what is going on socially, politically and economically in our culture.”

Fashion hauls kicked off on YouTube in the mid-2000s, when the long-form video platform first became popular. They picked up steam in the 2010s, peaking with the advent of TikTok around 2018. Early on, hauls functioned as a form of guidance. Viewers learned “what to do, how to look, who to emulate and why they should buy particular items,” Lauricella said. That guidance made audiences feel stylish and plugged in. But the conditions that once made mass consumption seem fun have shifted.

“When hauls were all the rage, the economy was doing better than it is now, and coming out of COVID times, audiences were fine with having and doing all the things because we were all free again,” Lauricella said. “Unboxing and haul content are not resonating with audiences because the ability to go buy the items boasted about is just not there.”

Rising grocery and gas prices – and the geopolitical issues behind them – are leaving many consumers thinking more carefully about money. In this context, the spectacle of endless shopping can feel ostentatious and obnoxious.

There is also a generational shift at play. Younger viewers are more adept at recognizing when content is designed to drive sales, sponsorship or engagement. Lauricella points to the rise of financial wellness influencers as part of the same cultural change.

“Younger women, in particular, are becoming more financially savvy and are increasingly interested in figuring out how to pay off student loans, or save in a HISA or FHSA, than Shein hauls,” she said.

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This doesn’t mean hauls are over. Now, the trend on social media is spotlighting sustainability. Underconsumption content, thrift and estate sale hauls, and upcycling tutorials are offering aspiration based on intention instead of accumulation.

But Jacobson noted that these practices aren’t actually new. People have always thrifted, reworn, altered and inherited clothing. What is new is how visible and socially validated these practices have become. “We have economic pressures, and there’s a growing secondhand market. And content creators are smart; for some, [their content is] driven by their own personal ethics, but for others, [it’s] based on their analytics and what their audience wants to see.”

In other words, even underconsumption content is still content. It still signals identity, taste and values. Where the traditional haul said, “I have access,” the upcycled version says, “I am thoughtful.” As Jacobson noted, it’s playing the same game, but telling a different story.

Maybe it’s not so much the end of the haul as a rebrand. The appetite for fashion content hasn’t vanished – perhaps it never will. People still want to see what others are wearing, buying and coveting (this writer included). But the fantasy is changing. Abundance, once the point, is becoming harder to justify. Taste, alone, is not enough. Now, it has to be paired with ethics, restraint or, at the very least, a little self-awareness.