The most famous of these is Becca Bloom, a Bay Area-based fintech worker and luxury fashion influencer whose parents have made an unspecified fortune in tech and real estate that some speculate to be in the billions. Her content ranges from unboxings of Hermès and rare Van Cleef and Arpels jewellery, to plating breakfast for her pets with a $2,500 cutlery set and offering advice about finances and dating.
Other heirs and heiresses include Hannah Bronfman, a lifestyle and wellness influencer and member of the Bronfman family, and Sammy Nussdorf, aka Brokeback Contessa, owner of a gourmet grocery store in New York and also part of a family with a net worth above a billion.
At the even more “old money” end of the scale is Lara Cosima, full name Maria Lara Cosima Henckel von Donnersmarck, a German-American model and socialite who is famous for her “Get Ready With Me” videos in which she dons couture ballgowns with a Versailles-style backdrop. The Henckel von Donnersmarck noble family was founded in the 14th century, and her father is an acclaimed film director.
Generally speaking, the supporters of these influencers applaud their taste and disposition, insisting that their content succeeds because of their personality as well as their assets. For example, many of Becca Bloom’s fans praise her down-to-earth demeanor, with one profile designating her an “It girl” because she is “grounded by lessons in humility, discipline, and self-worth.”
Detractors claim that their displays of wealth only add to the injustice of entrenched societal inequalities. Bloom has also been labelled a Marie Antoinette figure for the indulgent shopping hauls that she is most known for. Some comments on Lara Cosima videos have even made comparisons to The Hunger Games.
The negative voices may be dramatic, but they are not necessarily the loudest. “A lot of people think it’s just aspirational, escapism content… [but] it will warp our baseline of what we think is normal,” says Hannah Horvath, a financial planner known as @yourbrainonmoney on TikTok. “You are comparing yourself against people who are beyond what the average is.” She goes as far as to claim that the popularity of rich influencers may be partially responsible for the credit card debt of people on far more modest incomes who want to emulate them.
It's no secret that living vicariously is a key facet of any kind of influencer’s success, and to do that, they have to be relatable on some level. Extreme wealth may not be relatable to most, but having ideas on how to spend it is. This is a part of the reason the viewers can warm to these creators, despite the inaccessibility of the life that they put on display.
Chelsea Fagan of The Financial Diet likens viewers’ investment in RichTok to a team sport, passing judgment on the minutiae of the lives of rich people and sometimes even pitting them against each other based on things like their public personas, personal taste, and their lives behind the scenes. Jamie Xie, another rich Bay Area influencer and the daughter of tech mogul Ken Xie, created a feud with Becca Bloom a few months ago by alleging that her wealth was exaggerated and illegitimate. Many of Bloom’s fans jumped to her defense.
Fagan suggests that this type of influencer perpetuates the idea that “wealth is not necessarily good or bad, but defined by who represents it.” Like diplomats for those who have as much money as some small countries, these influencers are here to show the lower classes the most pleasant, inconsequential benefits of being in an untouchable income bracket.
The problem is not just a desire to emulate these kinds of people without the same resources, but also that it helps to reinforce a deference towards those who have significantly more money than the majority of the world. In his 2024 book, economist Yanis Varoufakis argued that we are living in a time of “technofeudalism.” This is an era in which tech corporations have had such a powerful economic impact that they have “overthrown capitalism.” This gives them the power of feudal lords while everybody who uses their services is a serf, working the land in their corner of the internet to keep company profits high while receiving little in terms of individual benefit.
Although this reasoning might make wealthy influencers into “serfs” churning out content to keep the tech overlords happy, it could also be said that such a system further secures their position as part of the elite. This is because it gives them the gift of a dedicated fanbase who admire and defend their ability to spend large amounts of money, underlining the idea that playing by the right rulebook makes the inequality that they represent okay.
The two things that social media wants us to do most are to buy things and to keep on scrolling (and posting). Despite flaunting lavish lifestyles that are unattainable for their viewers, ultra-wealthy influencers encourage each of these goals. Their mesmerizing performance in the role of the ultimate high-end consumer makes their fans desire more for themselves in the emptiest of ways. It is this fundamental dissatisfaction that only turns a profit for the rich people, both public and private.
