Celebrity Column | The rise of the influencers, writes Shweta Bachchan Nanda

I am one of those moms. The kind that heckles her kids into saying ‘hello’ and ‘thank you’ to friends, relatives, friends of relatives even before they have a chance to do so themselves! I know, it’s the worst kind of helicopter parenting, and I could end up giving my kids self-esteem issues that may take years of therapy to correct (if current parenting guidelines are to be believed — good thing I don’t pay any heed to them). Thing is, I am particular, like paranoid particular, about manners! So why am I gnashing my teeth in anger every time I read the word “Thank you” on an Instagram post? It’s those “influencers” and their endless windfall of gifts! Also, to be noted, I never get gifts, so maybe this stems from envy, but it totally doesn’t. I am just cantankerous by nature, with the exception of the charming Mickey Contractor who sent me a slick as hell box of curated MAC make-up goodies that my teenage daughter laid siege to on sighting. 

If you are a middle-aged woman, you know this is chocolate-fudge-sundae-that will-not-sit-on-your-hips, kind of amazing! My pet peeve (the fuel my body runs on) of the month are influencers and their syrupy “life is so perfect and Syrian kids aren’t homeless and dying” posts on social media. In case you’ve been living in a cave somewhere in the Himalayas and don’t know what I mean when I say “influencers”, they are a group of people or a person, who have the ability to influence you to spend your hard earned money on stuff they just get for free! It’s a legit job, guys, and very coveted. Everyone wants to be an influencer. What are the prerequisites? A sunny disposition, the ability to look great in the free clothes you get to wear, the ability to plug a brand in your oh-so-enervatingly vapid captions on social media and a substantial following. 

Before you spend the money saved in the children’s college fund towards a down payment on that sports car you’ve been eyeing, let me tell you the life span of this job lasts only till you’re able-bodied, which in millennial speak is till you’re 30. That’s not to say they don’t make a whole load of money, they do; the job pays well. So chances are, they will be able to afford that upscale retirement home they intend sending you to, so they don’t have to help you figure out how to send and receive messages on whatever replaces the smartphone in our near future. Best of luck watching the grandkids grow up in front of your eyes, on FaceTime! What’s frying my bacon are the ME TOOs. If you are not a celebrity — who is given these swag bags precisely so they can post about them and get eyeballs, please do the world, or just me, a favour the next time someone sends you a gift or takes you out for a meal or pays for your Über ride. Pick up the phone and thank them the old- fashioned, and dare I say, the correct way. #thankyou