One thing about my cynical ass?

I love peeling back the layers of an overused marketing buzzword to expose what's really going on.

Because lord knows there's a heap of them.

And he also knows that when a dead horse is flogged, it's still, well, dead.

And that's why we're currently experiencing what I'd like to call 'authenticity fatigue.'

It was like a mass awakening. Brands dropped their polished exteriors. Influencers started posting makeup-free selfies.

And suddenly everyone was 'keeping it real' (read: scrambling to look relatable). A welcomed change, it was refreshing...until it wasn't.

Fast-forward to 2024, and authenticity has become the pumpkin spice latte of marketing-overhyped, overused, and starting to lose its edge.

The question is: why? And what's next for brands that still want to connect meaningfully with their audience?

This is the trendification of authenticity.

The authenticity era began with a rebellion against the overly glossy advertising of the early 2000s. Social media gave people a front-row seat to real lives, not just staged commercials. Brands had to adapt-or be left in the dust.

Gen Z emerged into the marketing landscape with a no BS policy, craving transparency, honesty and real connections.

On top of that, consumers were sick of being relentlessly sold to. Seeing the imperfections in brands and influencers made them feel human and relatable. And in a world becoming increasingly fake, this was like a breath of fresh air.

But like every trend, it became...predictable. Unimpressive even.

Today, 'authenticity' feels less like a genuine connection and more like a strategy straight out of a marketing playbook that every man and their dog are reading from.

Manufactured 'realness.'

When everyone is trying to be 'authentic,' it stops feeling authentic. From influencers crying on cue for engagement to brands posting scripted 'relatable' tweets, the whole thing started to feel performative.

Authenticity has been stretched so thin; it's lost its meaning. Everyone from mega-corporations to micro-influencers is using the same damn strategy, which makes the whole concept feel like white noise.

Audiences have become savvier at spotting when 'authenticity' is just another marketing tactic. They can tell when a brand's 'realness' is carefully curated and when it's actually genuine.

In a world where technology can create eerily realistic personas, the line between real and fake has become (scarily) blurred-and people are becoming increasingly sceptical.

If authenticity is losing its lustre, where the hell do we go from here? We can't just ditch realness altogether and go back to polished bs. But we can redefine what authenticity means.

If ya didn't read my recent article, it's best you know; the age of generic authenticity is over.

Audiences don't want vague relatability; they want brands that understand their specific needs, quirks, and values. Dive deep into your niche and speak their language, quirks and all.

Go niche, my friends. It's the way forward.

The new authenticity is about being actually honest, even when it's uncomfortable. Admit your flaws, own up to mistakes, and show people the behind-the-scenes mess that comes with running a brand.

Instead of trying to look authentic with funny tweets and banter, focus on doing work that is authentic. Build your brand around a purpose that resonates deeply with your audience-and stick to it.

Sometimes, the most 'authentic' thing you can do is break character. Be unpredictable in a way that feels genuine to your brand. People love a little mystery-it keeps them engaged.

As always, you're so welcome ♡

Audit your voice: Is your brand's 'authenticity' starting to sound like everyone else's? Refresh your tone to reflect your unique personality. Think: what's my USP? What's my SMP? And roll off those.