Insights & Ideas

A few years ago, if you wanted to know the best ramen spot in Delhi, you’d Google it.

Today, you type it into Instagram. Or YouTube. Or sometimes you don’t even type. You just trust that a creator you follow has already done the homework for you.

Somewhere between reels, vlogs and “things you must try before you die” lists, creators have quietly stepped into a role search engines once dominated: answers.

Search, But With Personality

Traditional search gives you links. Creators give you context.

Instead of scrolling through ten articles about the “best cafes in Bandra,” you watch one creator walk into the place, order the coffee, complain about the seating and rate the croissant.

Suddenly the information feels…usable.

This is why queries that once lived on Google now live on social feeds: 

-Best cafes in Bangalore

-Budget travel hacks

-Skincare routines for Indian skin

-Laptop recommendations for students

People want answers, yes. But increasingly, they want answers from someone they recognise.

The Trust Shortcut

Creators work as search engines for one simple reason: trust. Google may give you 50 results for “best protein powder.” A fitness creator you follow gives you three options and a brutally honest take on which one tastes like chalk.

It’s not always objective. But it feels real.

And for audiences navigating everything from skincare ingredients to travel planning, that sense of lived experience matters more than algorithmic ranking.

Discovery Is Moving to Social

This shift has quietly changed how brands think about discovery. Products are no longer found only through ads or search pages. They’re discovered through:

-a creator’s “things I bought this month” video

-a cafe recommendation reel

-a tech review shot in someone’s bedroom

The search journey now often begins with a person, not a platform. Which is why brands increasingly care about being present in creator conversations - not just search results.

The Human Search Result

Of course, creators don’t replace search engines entirely. But they do something search engines can’t: they filter the internet through human experience.

A travel creator doesn’t just tell you where to go. They tell you whether the crowd is unbearable, whether the food is overrated and whether the place is actually worth the hype.

That’s not just information. That’s judgement.

And in the endless chaos of the internet, sometimes the most valuable thing isn’t more results. It’s someone saying, “Don’t bother. This one’s better.”

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There’s a certain predictability to creator economy conversations in India.

Instagram comes up first. Always.

Then maybe a passing mention of long-form YouTube. And somewhere in between, brand folks talk about reels, reach, and what’s “working right now.”

YouTube Shorts rarely enters that conversation with the same urgency.

Which is strange, because if you look closely, it’s doing a lot more than people give it credit for.

Shorts doesn’t behave like Instagram. That’s probably why it’s misunderstood. On Instagram, content lives and dies by momentum - the first few minutes, the early engagement, the algorithm deciding whether you’re worth pushing further.

Shorts feels…slower. But also steadier.

A video doesn’t necessarily peak and disappear. It keeps floating. It resurfaces. Sometimes days later. Sometimes weeks. Creators who’ve spent enough time on the platform will tell you this: a video you forgot about can suddenly pick up traction out of nowhere.

That doesn’t happen as often elsewhere.

There’s also the audience itself. Shorts reaches a version of India that Instagram doesn't fully touch - smaller cities, different language preferences, users who aren’t necessarily following creators but are constantly consuming them.

Which means discovery works differently here.

On Instagram, you often grow through followers. On Shorts, you grow through distribution.

The platform doesn’t always care if someone knows you. It cares if your content is worth showing again. That’s a big shift.

For brands, this creates an odd gap.

On one hand, Shorts offers massive reach, strong repeat visibility, and a user base that is still expanding in meaningful ways. On the other, it doesn’t have the same cultural signalling as Instagram yet.

A reel feels like a moment.

A Shorts video feels like…content.

So naturally, budgets lean toward what feels visible. But that gap is also where the opportunity sits. Because while everyone competes for attention on one platform, another one quietly becomes less crowded, more forgiving, and in many ways, more scalable.

Creators, of course, have already figured this out.

Many of them aren’t choosing between platforms anymore. They’re repurposing, adapting, and in some cases, building entirely separate audiences on Shorts. It’s not unusual to see someone with modest Instagram numbers pull significantly higher views on YouTube Shorts.

Different algorithm. Different audience behaviour. Different outcome.

The interesting part isn’t that Shorts is growing. It’s that it’s growing without demanding attention. No loud narrative. No “this is the next big thing” moment.

Just consistent distribution, wide reach, and a platform that keeps showing content to people who didn’t know they were looking for it.

And maybe that’s why it’s underrated.

Not because it’s small.

But because it doesn’t try too hard to prove that it isn’t.

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For years, influencer marketing has lived under one constant question. Is this sustainable? Is it just a phase? Is the bubble going to burst?

And then a company like Unilever quietly answers it. Not with a statement. With a number.

3,00,000.

This isn’t scaling. This is a shift

In just two years, Unilever expanded its influencer network from around 10,000 to nearly 3,00,000 creators globally. That’s not experimentation but commitment. More importantly, it’s a signal that influencer marketing is no longer being treated as a campaign lever. It’s becoming infrastructure.

From “working with creators” to building systems around them

Earlier, brands worked with creators. Now, they’re building ecosystems. Unilever’s approach isn’t about finding a few big names. It’s about creating a network of people - creators, professionals, even everyday users - who talk about the brand in their own way.


It’s less about control.

More about distribution.

Less about messaging.

More about recommendation.

The real insight: trust has moved

There’s a line that captures this shift perfectly. Traditional brand messaging is starting to feel…suspicious. And that’s not an exaggeration.


Consumers today are far more likely to trust:

- a creator explaining a product

- a friend recommending something

- a random review on social media over a polished brand ad.


Unilever isn’t creating 3,00,000 pieces of content. It’s building 300,000 points of trust.

This also explains why scale now looks different

Scale in advertising used to mean reach. Now it means repetition across people.

Not one big ad seen by millions but thousands of smaller conversations happening at once. That’s harder to control. But far more believable.

Influencer marketing isn’t peaking. It’s expanding

If anything, this move makes one thing clear. We’re still early.

Because what we’ve been calling “influencer marketing” so far has mostly been:

- campaigns

- brand deals

- one-off collaborations

What’s coming next looks more like:

- always-on creator ecosystems

- long-term brand advocacy

- distributed storytelling


And that’s a very different game.

The uncomfortable part

More creators doesn’t automatically mean better content. It means more noise, more sameness and more average content flooding feeds.

But brands seem okay with that trade-off. Because even within that noise, trust travels faster when it comes from people.

So what does this really mean?

It means influencer marketing isn’t going anywhere. It’s just changing shape.


From a tactic to a system and from campaigns to culture. And when a company built on decades of traditional advertising starts behaving like this…it’s usually not a trend. It’s a direction.

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There was a time when influencer content looked…expensive.

Perfect lighting. Clean transitions. Soft music. A kind of visual politeness that made everything feel like an ad, even when it wasn’t.

That version of the internet still exists. It just doesn’t stop people from scrolling anymore. What does?

A slightly shaky video.

A creator talking mid-thought.

Bad lighting, good timing.

Somewhere along the way, “polished” stopped being impressive. It started feeling predictable.

The Internet Is Tired of Trying Too Hard

Audiences today don’t reject ads. They reject effort that looks like effort.

The more something feels constructed, the easier it is to dismiss. Not because it’s bad - but because it’s familiar. You’ve seen that lighting setup. That edit style. That brand tone. Unpolished content cuts through because it doesn’t announce itself.

It feels like something you accidentally stumbled upon, not something placed in your feed with intention. And that illusion matters.

Messy Is Doing What Perfect Couldn’t

Scroll through any platform right now and you’ll notice it.

Creators are:

- talking straight to camera

- leaving in pauses

- skipping heavy edits

- reacting in real time

Even brand integrations have changed shape. Instead of “Here are 5 reasons why I love this product,” it’s:

“Okay wait, I tried this and…”

That shift is subtle. But it changes how people watch. Polished content asks for attention. Unpolished content keeps it.

It’s Not Laziness. It’s Strategy.

Easy mistake to make: thinking this is creators being casual.

It’s not. The best “unpolished” content is still intentional. It just hides the effort better.

Creators understand:

- where people drop off

- what feels too scripted

- how much chaos is just enough

It’s less about lowering quality and more about removing friction. Because the second content feels like work to watch, it’s over.

Brands Are Catching Up (Slowly)

For brands, this shift is slightly uncomfortable.

For years, “good content” meant control - messaging, visuals, tone. Now, the content that works best often looks like it escaped the brief.

Which means: less scripting, more creator freedom and fewer perfect frames. 

Some brands are adapting quickly. Others are still trying to make “raw” content look polished - which defeats the point entirely. You can’t manufacture casual. Audiences can tell.

The Real Reason This Works

At its core, this isn’t about editing styles. It’s about trust.

Unpolished content feels like someone talking to you, not at you. It carries small imperfections that signal honesty - even if the content itself is still strategic.

And in a feed full of people trying to get your attention, the ones who feel least like they’re trying often win.

The Takeaway

The internet didn’t suddenly decide it prefers low effort. It just got better at spotting what’s real.

And right now, real doesn’t look like perfect lighting and scripted lines.

It looks like a creator pausing mid-sentence, laughing at their own thought, and continuing anyway. Turns out, that’s harder to fake than it looks.

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Most viral creator moments disappear within a week. The internet reacts, brands jump in late, audiences move on. But every once in a while, a brand catches the moment at exactly the right time.

Back in 2023, a video by creator Zervaan complaining about Lay’s changing the flavour of Magic Masala started blowing up online. The reaction was dramatic, funny and weirdly emotional - exactly the kind of thing the internet loves turning into a collective movement.

The video crossed millions of views, shares started piling up, and suddenly a chips flavour had become discourse.

What made the moment interesting wasn’t just the virality. It was what happened after.

A creator complaint became a brand storyline

Instead of letting the trend fade out, Monk Entertainment helped stretch the moment into something much bigger.

First, Bingo jumped into the conversation by sending Zervaan a truck full of their chips, cashing in on the viral momentum almost instantly. But despite the internet chaos, the creator still wanted the old Lay’s flavour back.

That opened up a very unusual chain of events.

Monk Entertainment worked closely with the Lay’s team to turn the internet reaction into an actual creator-led campaign. The old flavour was brought back, Zervaan became part of the announcement, and the campaign slowly evolved from a viral complaint into a collaborative storyline audiences were already emotionally invested in.

The smartest part? They didn’t let the momentum die while the product relaunch was being worked on.

Instead, Zervaan was sent to the factory to “check” whether the old flavour was actually coming back. The content kept moving. The audience stayed hooked. And by the time the relaunch happened, people already felt part of the journey. Eventually, the creator’s face even made it to the Lay’s packaging.

Not bad for a rant video.

The internet moves fast but this campaign moved faster

What stands out about this campaign even today is how instinctive it felt.

No overproduced brand messaging.
No trying to manufacture relevance.

Just creators, brands and teams reacting to internet culture in real time and honestly, that’s what a lot of creator marketing still struggles with. Most campaigns are planned too far in advance to behave naturally online. By the time approvals happen, the moment is already gone.

This one moved at internet speed.

The bigger shift behind moments like these

Campaigns like this also say something bigger about creator marketing today. Creators are no longer just distribution channels for brands. Sometimes, they become the starting point of the entire campaign itself.

The audience reaction shapes the brief.
The internet shapes the narrative.
The creator becomes part of the product story and when that loop works well, it stops feeling like marketing and starts feeling like culture unfolding in real time.

Why this campaign still feels relevant

Even two years later, the Lay’s Magic Masala moment still gets referenced because it captured something brands are still chasing - relevance that doesn’t feel forced. Not every viral video can become a campaign and not every brand can react quickly enough to make it work.

But when the timing, creator instinct and execution align, the internet does a lot of the heavy lifting on its own.

And in this case, Monk Entertainment managed to keep that momentum alive long enough to turn a complaint into one of the more memorable creator-led brand moments India has seen in recent years.

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Let’s get one thing out of the way:
Your social media isn’t stuck because the universe is unfair.
It’s stuck because you’re committing the Seven Deadly Sins of Social Media - the exact ones even your favourite creators committed on their way to blowing up.

So take a deep breath, open your Notes app, and prepare for some digital repentance.

1. The Sin of Inconsistency

The classic. You post like you’re in a complicated relationship with the internet - three posts in a week, then radio silence for 40 days and 40 nights.

Creators don’t go viral because they post more. They grow because they post rhythmically - same slots, same energy, same intent.

The algorithm doesn’t need hustle.
It needs habit.

2. The Sin of Trend-Chasing

If your content is:

• trending audio
• trending format
• trending caption
• trending beat
• trending edit

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… congratulations, you’re officially indistinguishable from 46,000 other creators today.

Trend-chasing gets you views - rarely followers.
Viewers come for the trend.
Followers come for you.

3. The Sin of Zero Hooks

Starting your Reel with:
“Hey guys sooo today I wanted to talk ab—”
is the digital equivalent of telling someone your entire life story on the first date.

People leave.
Fast.

Your first 2 seconds decide your entire destiny.
No hook = no hope.

4. The Sin of Posting the Same Thing Everywhere

The “Ctrl+C, Ctrl+V Creator.”
YouTube Shorts, IG Reels, TikTok (via VPN, we see you), X, LinkedIn - same content, same caption, same vibe.

No, king/queen.
Platforms have personalities.

Instagram loves aesthetic chaos.
YouTube wants depth.
X wants brains.
LinkedIn wants humble flexes.
Threads wants soft, cuddly conversations.

Flirt accordingly.

5. The Sin of Perfection Paralysis

Fifty takes.
Three ring lights.
Eight drafts.
Editing for four hours.
Posting never.

Perfection kills more creators than bad content ever will.

In 2025, looking effortless beats looking expensive.
Audiences don’t want flawless.
They want fun.

6. The Sin of “Me, Myself, and My Vibe Only”

Every post is about your routine, your life, your story, your pet, your lunch, your heartbreak, your eyeliner.

The internet doesn’t grow creators.
It grows value.

Ask yourself: “Is this helping, entertaining, teaching, or inspiring someone?”
If the answer is no - it’s just a diary entry with better lighting.

7. The Sin of Ignoring Data

You can’t shout “shadowban!” when your retention graph looks like a dying snake.

Growth ≠ magic.
Growth = metrics.

Not obsessive analytics.
Just simple signals:

● Where people dropped off

● Which hooks worked

● Which topics kept attention

● Which thumbnails tanked

Data isn’t scary.
It’s your cheat code.

Creators who understand these sins don’t eliminate them - they break them with intention.

That’s the difference between “posting content” and building influence. Because growth isn’t about luck - it’s about reading the room, the algorithm, and your audience…all at once.

We’ve all committed these sins.

What matters is learning to break them with style.

Because the creator who knows the rules gets views - but the one who knows the sins gets growth.