Thoughts on selling out

Aren't we all selling something?

I’ve tried to write this piece so many times, and each time I fail to capture every thought, every angle that deserves to be explored, so instead, i’m just going to ramble.

‘Slowing down isn’t something you can capture in a reel’ I wrote this in my journal this morning while contemplating talking more about life after burnout. It’s weird to think ‘burnout content’ is now a niche, but it also isn’t surprising given the current state of the world and how we interact with technology/social media. If the diet industry wants us to gain weight so it can sell us a ‘solution’ does the wellness industry feel the same about us burning out? Whatever our state, there’s always someone willing to sell us a ‘solution’ to our ‘problem’.

Sometimes I fantasize about moving to a cabin in the woods, building a library room and being one with nature, but that cabin costs money (cos you know I also want a mountain top view)! Plus, I have a partner who can’t just up and leave his life because I have an analogue fantasy life in mind. And I don’t expect him too. I live in a very all or nothing mindset (a blessing and a curse) so I also know the grass isn’t automatically greener somewhere else. Living, however you do it, costs money, and no matter how much easier you make the logistics, life is always ‘lifeing’.

Despite coming back to Instagram after a very long break, there is still a tension between being a creative person and a content creator. Torn between the desire to just share what I feel called to when I feel called to, and the financial freedom that’s possible when you follow the rules, when you are consistent and have a very clearly defined niche. I dream of a lifestyle where I can just create, whether that’s in my journals, making candles, playing in my wardrobe or writing, but I also don’t want to monetize everything that brings me joy. I need to be able to keep somethings just for me.

While i’ve never promoted anything I didn’t believe in, my job like many people’s has always been to sell something, whether that’s a product, a service or an idea. My job as a makeup artist was selling my service, my job as a coach was selling my programs, and as a content creator I was selling products, both my own (in the form of my courses) and products in the form of sponsorships and affiliates. There is no business that can exist in 2025 without selling. As I type i’m hoping you’ll become a paid subscriber to this Substack because I love writing here, and I want this to grow. (I’m forever grateful to those who have already subscribed, paid or not, THANK YOU!) I’d love to think this could become my main source of income one day, but to do that, in addition to making great content, I have to sell it. I have to make sure people know about it. And before someone says ‘making great content is enough to get discovered’ I would argue there are so many incredibly talented writers, artists and content creators who remain unknown because ‘making incredible work’ hasn’t been enough to gain visibility and make a living from it.

So if we’re all selling something, is it even possible to be a sell out?

I used to joke if I ever did a skinny tea ad you’d have permission to come for me (or check I don’t have a doppelganger), but telling this to my friend recently she was like ‘Girl, get your bag’. (They haven’t offered it btw, probably because I will always eat the bread!)

I remember as a makeup artist when other artists would go after those in our industry who used filters, when they themselves used what they considered ‘less noticeable/less extreme edits’ on photos of their clients. It never sat right with me because I always felt if you do any kind of retouching, you are doing it, so pipe down and get on with it! In some ways I feel the same about being a content creator, especially if you use affiliates or sponsored content. You either do it or you don’t, and i’ve been impressed by the creators that own it, and the ones that don’t apologize for it.

Ultimately, who can afford to make content without selling something?

I feel like there’s a collective fatigue over being sold to, and while i’d like to think I could solve capitalism alone, sometimes you have to pick your poison because we all have to put food on the table.

After burning out I contemplated getting a job in a shop, but then i’d be making someone else money and I wouldn’t have a say in where they buy their product or how they market it. I’d also have little to no time/energy to work on my own projects. Maybe I could be a barista but who’s to say I would know for sure if the coffee bean farmers are being treated fairly? These are the things that bring me back to working for myself, that and making peace with the fact that by existing in the world and promoting my products and services will always cause offence to someone.

You’re damned if you do and you’re damned if you don’t. Not needing to market your work online is a luxury few can afford, and I feel a deep sadness when I see other Substack writers I admire feel the need to apologise for adding a paywall to their work. Maybe it’s because i’ve always been self employed, i’ve always been an artist who has had to spend the majority of my life justifying/explaining why my rates/fees are what they are and fight to be paid fairly for my work. I don’t expect anyone working in a an office, or who works a 9-5 not to be paid for the hours they work, so why is it so different for creators?

You’re expected to show the newest hottest thing and not promote capitalism. You have to be pretty, but not too pretty. You can get botox, but only if you disclose it. If you lose weight, you have to tell your audience how and why. If you speak out you said the wrong thing, you’ll upset someone, and if you say nothing at all, you’re a coward and you’ve let people down.

Being labelled a sell out is seen as the ultimate insult to creatives, and I think it’s because most creatives care about their art. It is personal, and it’s incredibly hard to clock in and clock out when you are part of the product/brand. Just because I don’t love doing short form content and may one day decide not to do it, doesn’t mean I don’t respect the energy that has gone into making it.

As a creative myself and someone who has spent a lot of time working with creatives, i’ve campaigned hard to reclaim the word ‘influencer’ and redefine it as something other than a dirty word, or an insult. Content creation is work, irrelevant of whether it makes you an income or not.

The reality is attention spans are declining rapidly. People seek out more content, not less, quick sound bites and get to the point content. We want it fast and we want it now….and we want it all for free.

Herein lies the problem.

We’ve become accustomed to consuming free content, we expect it, but it’s worth remembering, nothing comes for free! I had so much respect for the founders of Indyx when they launched the paid model of the app, and explained in the email that if they kept the app free, we would become the product. The amount of notes I see pleading with Substack to change their business model (for the love of God please don’t Substack) so that people can pay a monthly fee to get access to multiple writers work, misses the point of why writers and creators like it here completely. This isn’t Netflix!

If the goal is a considered approach to consuming content, one where the consumer and the creator doesn’t burn out, we need a sustainable option. I like to rotate my paid subscriptions here on Substack. There are some I pay for a full year, but as someone who also has a ‘Substack spending budget’ I support writers by paying for one-three months and then I rotate it to support other writers I enjoy. Even if you are not in a position to support a writer financially whose work you enjoy, the best way you can support them is to share the hell out of their work and like it so more people can see it.

Generally speaking, the amount of content and consistency required to monetize your content on any platform isn’t a small feat. It requires you to work the same hours (often more) than you would in a 9-5 job. And like all self employed people, there’s no designated weekends, or paid summer holidays off/paid leave/maternity care etc. People used to say (in regards to making content online) only do it because you love it, but even though I love making Substacks (and long form video content) I can’t do it without financial support. Yet this expectation to keep creating, to stay ‘relatable’ (which seems to read as ‘stay humble, stay small, and don’t make money’) isn’t realistic. If you don’t want someone to do affiliates or sponsorships, then they’re going to have to sell you something else in order to keep making content for free.

In truth, I am terrified of burning out again and not being able to come back from it next time. It scared the shit out of me quite frankly and i’m well aware that certain things in my life had to change, but making a living isn’t one of them.

While i’m not here to debate what constitutes art and what doesn’t, any creative will tell you opting out of marketing themselves or their work via some kind of platform is how you stay a starving artist unless you’re a nepo baby or living off of someone else. And yes there are people who have neither and do not wish to monetize their art (love that for them) but what happens to those of us that want a job we don’t hate? Who want to be fairly compensated for the content they’ve already made for years for free before seeing a single penny in return?

If you have a separate income that you can live on outside of content creation it makes it easier to turn down sponsored content, affiliate links and gifting, but even if you don’t have to worry about making income from it, does that mean something about you if you do monetize it? If you are creating something for other people to consume there is an energetic transaction at play. You have given something of yourself, so why shouldn’t you be compensated?

One of the reasons I’ve always believed in selling my own products like courses etc, is because they are intellectual property I own. It never mattered how big or small my audience was, I didn’t have to wait for the brands to notice me. It gave me ownership. But I still had to sell them. I had to and continued to have to talk about it.

Like everything, there’s a lot of grey area, there’s nuance, but instead of being mad at the people selling, can I suggest we save our precious energy for the systems set up that have made it this way? That require us to jump through algorithmic hoops, and shout loud enough to make sure our people can hear us. Nobody has to buy my courses, shop my affiliate links or subscribe to any of my platforms. You can always opt out. When I sell something I always have the thought, i’m just helping someone make a decision if this is right for them or not from the lens of my personal taste and experience.

I get why creatives who never had any intention of becoming content creators and small business owners are pissed that they do now if they want people to buy their products and to hire them. It can feel exhausting, but you still get to decide how you play the game. Just know selling has always existed, it looks different now, and I sometimes wonder if the old ways were better, but in the famous words of love island…it is what it is.

Everyone is selling something. Whether you’re an Ivy League school, religion, a presidential candidate, a content creator, a wedding photographer, a plumber, or a kid and their lemonade stand.

I’m curious to hear your thoughts?

So with that being said, drum roll please…..I’d love nothing more than for you to support me and my work by subscribing to this Substack and becoming a paid sub if it’s within your means to do so. Please share and like it, and you can also buy The No Buy Styling Course here.

(I mean… you knew I was gonna sell you something right?)

Thanks for reading

Harry x