*read in browser, long post will get cut off in email :)
When you hear the words “brand trip,” certain perceptions likely come to mind. From the notoriously tone-deaf Tarte Cosmetics trip to Bora Bora earlier this year to REFY’s pivot towards “community trips” for customers in lieu of influencers, the concept of an all-expenses paid trip broadcasted on social media has been a facet of brand marketing for the past decade or so. (Tarte is credited with being the first brand to do it in 2015).
I think of this scene dialogue from Triangle of Sadness (Ruben Östlund, 2022). The film follows a couple, Yaya (a $uccessful influencer) and Carl (a male model), who go on a free luxury cruise courtesy of Yaya’s job. I won’t spoil the ending for those who haven’t watched it, but it’s one of my favorite films that explore class divide through dark comedy.
These trips may be all-expenses paid with no contractual requirements, but there are always the implicit strings attached of any brand-influencer relationship.
I don’t really have interest in the influencers who go on Tarte brand trips—it’s just not the internet culture I’m into.
But over the years I’ve followed fashion girls whose work I admire attend all these seemingly cool vacations and events they got to attend as part of their jobs. Horseback riding in the Southwest. Snorkeling in Mallorca. 3D printing tours in Stockholm. When I see a group of girls laughing over pasta and wine in their dinner dresses, tanned and rosy-cheeked from the sun and ocean air, it’s so easy to see this as a alluring portrait of community connection and forget that everyone is there because a company paid for them to.
And I mean, who wouldn’t feel a twinge of envy? These are vacations most people could never afford to go on (money + schedule flexibility + caretaking burdens). These trips tend to be all-girls, and they always appear to be one of those bad bitch friend groups having the best time ever, which taps into a latent, familiar social anxiety we feel from the first time we are girls in grade school and clock who the “cool girls” are.
I know this is not reality. Social media is a highlight reel, etc etc, their job is to make it look fun, the idea of a tightly-knit friend group where everyone gets along perfectly is a myth. But the emotional power of parasocial relationships is very real, and I’m not immune to it.
In early August, I received an email invitation for a brand trip (or “press trip” as they call it) from MUBI, a UK-based film streaming platform for cult cinema faves and indie arthouse projects.
The trip was structured around a film festival in Chicago, which I thought made a lot of sense given what their company is all about. There would be 10 of us, we would watch films, go to concerts, learn about the music history of the city, and try deep dish pizza. I replied yes, count me in.
Off the bat, this obviously isn’t a waterfront-bungalow-and-private-plane-in-bora-bora type situation. But, I also don’t want to write about this trip with a tone of performative modesty. An all-expenses paid trip is a luxury and a massive privilege.
I wanted to write a nuanced account of the experience because most content I see about brand trips don’t offer insight into what it really feels like to be in these spaces—the range of thoughts and emotions one might experience.
These were the questions I went into the brand trip with (+ ones you guys were curious about):
what are the social dynamics? is there a sense of collaborative camaraderie or unspoken competition between the influencers?
how much time is spent taking photos/posing vs. being present and enjoying the experience?
it is possible to make genuine connection and friendships in a brand trip environment?
Let’s get into it.
This was the itinerary for Day 1 after our flights landed: