On TikTok

Has my time run out on the clock app?

Question: Why did you stop posting on TikTok?

Short answer: TikTok Shop ruined it for me.

“Nice” answer: It just didn’t feel fun anymore.

Full answer:

We must start with a blaring truth – I wouldn’t be here without TikTok. This part of my career, which I’m enjoying so much and am so grateful for, all started on the clock app. In May of 2022, I started posting 3x/day, every day, on TikTok, for a month. I wanted to try the whole thing out, and I wanted to do something with hotels. My page was going to be about hotels.

Little did I know that this childhood love of hotels, of all things, would be something that really resonated. I hit 10k followers within a month, and they were very loyal. I crashed hotel websites multiple times from viral videos in the first few months. It was exhilarating, especially coming out of a dark time post-health diagnosis. I had no idea what I was doing, I had made maybe three Reels prior and a handful of TikToks that were very bad and intended to go nowhere. And they didn’t. I did have a very strong background in content and branding. But, largely, I think it was a timing thing. It was a good time to get started, and with a niche, on TikTok. It was a good time to have a big personality. But also, I think when someone authentically loves something and has a deep knowledge and curiosity of it, it’s more likely to resonate. And as weird as it is, I just really love hotels and they really are my thing. Lastly, unrelatedly but also importantly, in two years, I never once went viral without showing my face. The interesting, small hotels that have character but not amenities almost always flopped. The stuff I liked the most, a lot of the time did the worst.

And for the first year and change, that was all fine and it was fun. It was everything I could have asked for, honestly. But, whenever I would try to deviate from my typical green screen talking about a hotel format, crickets. The so-called experts on TikTok say that that’s a good thing, that you know what your audience likes, so just keep repeating it. But I have been in the content business since the beginning. And I know that that way is not the highway.

So because, undeniably, the key to success was just doing the same thing over and over again, I simply started to tire of the whole schtick.

Because that’s what TikTok is, the vast majority of the time. A schtick. Even for me. I got this brand name, Happy Hoteling, which I do love, by off-the-cuff creating an ownable sign-off for TikTok videos. Typing this made me audibly release a blech sound. And that’s how I started to feel on TikTok.

It was about a year ago. At the same time, this Substack started really solidifying – I had posted twice a week, every week, since the beginning of July. No one was asking me questions about things I just said. No one was commenting on their perception of my family wealth. No one was asking things they could quickly Google. No one was demanding anything from me. I was sharing all the hotels I wanted to and in the context I wanted to and I was doing so by doing my favorite thing, writing. IT FELT GREAT.

Oh, and I got paid? For my work? Who knew something so simple could make such a difference in how you feel about the work and then in turn, the quality of the outcome.

But I continued to post on TikTok. Not every day. Things slowed down, but I was still always on that damn app. I planned my hair wash days around the days I knew performed well, and look, I’m unashamed to do that for a boy I’m dating or for work presentations, or anything really in real life, but for…TIKTOK?! My grandparents didn’t immigrate for that. Plus, it was the first thing I checked in the morning and the last thing I saw before putting my phone down for the night. That’s never a good sign.

And then the TikTok shop sped up to lightening speed and, suddenly, it was no longer enjoyable to be a consumer of content on TikTok either. Everyone has their things, but I have never been one for the QVC. I don’t want and definitely don’t need those new snatching leggings. Or another vacuum, or Korean beauty cure-all. And with this new product inundation came an unwavering email flood. “Hi dear I am tina (almost always name lowercase) from LOOKPRETTYHOTCUTE and I would like you to promote my vacuum/vibrator/cheap top/dupe serum.” And then at least 100 more, every damn day. Even after reporting all to spam, deleting anything from my TikTok shop, removing my email from the app. It was driving me insane. I can sell well but I have no desire to sell anything to anyone. I do not like to convince people to buy things, that is not me. I have never uttered the words you need that in real life, not even at A Current Affair, where I really know my way around. That’s why I stopped with the travel agent stuff, too. I do not want to ever “sell” you on anywhere to stay, or anywhere to go, or anything to put on your body. I simply want to use my personal taste and expertise and share it with you, and let you take the reigns from there.

The big realization was that, wait a minute…this actually all feels like a one-way transaction on TikTok. I don’t want any part of my life to feel like a transaction and certainly not one-way. Look, I know that, as a society, we’ve gotten lazier. Me too, naturally. But the laziness on TikTok is on another level. I can only get so many comments asking “what is the name of the hotel” when I have just spoken the name of the hotel out loud, put it on the screen for at least 4 seconds, and also manually put it into the captions with the correct spelling, before enough is enough. Increasingly, I had the non-stop desire to scream if you cannot take the time to watch 90 seconds of my video to know the name of the hotel then we have a major problem.

And yes, I was mentioning the Happy Hoteling Substack as much as possible as the answer to the questions people were asking, to largely cricket silence and subscriptions. Simply, people wanted me to tell them the end of the book so they don’t have to read it. They wanted to steal a library book. I get that, but I don’t accept that.

I also did not accept the so you rich rich wrong assumptions. In general, I do not accept the societal standard that just because someone puts their face or voice on the internet that it is ok to have an open forum for downright meanness and unsolicited negative opinions. But to step back a bit, it’s so very normal on TikTok to never say hi or hello or please or thank you, but instead just place a demand in the comment section or DMs. I know this is somewhat normal on Instagram too, but it’s different on TikTok. Do Bali. Do Positano, and in July, and under $120/night. And for other creators. Drop the skincare routine. Links? Talk less fast. Wear a different color sweater. Eat more. Eat less. No wonder your husband divorced you. Your kids are spoiled. I just came to the comments for someone to tell me the answer.

I hate to sound potentially crunchy, but the energy was OFF. Leeches, and internally, I heard lots of screeches. And also, I felt like, despite the constant influx of so-called information, I was getting less curious and even started to feel less…smart. I’m sorry, but get ready with mes do not enrich me. Hearing thirty takes on the same thing doesn’t excite me. Of course, there was a lot of good, but too much of this other stuff.

So, when I went to Italy in July and forgot my all of my chargers and was having so much fun and was living, I was so excited to share it all with you here, on Substack. People who have actually signed up to hear what I have to say and where I go and what I would recommend. I was also excited to share on Instagram, where there are real people with real names at the end of the line. My Instagram started to grow, my thoughts were constantly consumed with Substack stories I wanted to write, and I just…forgot about TikTok. Every note on my phone now (my second brain) started with “for substack” and not “for TikTok.” I haven’t turned back. I debated with it and thought I would return multiple times, but every time it felt like such a chore and then more and more time went on without me even opening the app.

People talk down on Instagram, but it’s just less volatile and easier for creators like myself to do what we do. For example, since stepping away from the clock app, my solution since has been to feature a Hotel of the Day on Instagram Stories, every day. This is easy for me to do, it’s easy for me to help out a hotel, and it’s a way to make sure there’s a constant stream of free content. And AMAs. I love them – I have since they first rolled out – but I’ve only recently started doing them myself, free of the drone of tik and tok. It’s such an easy way for people to ask you the things they want to ask you, when you want to be asked them. There no need for a please or a thank you or a hi or a hello – it is a place intended for demands. It’s also entertaining, interesting, and often, good shopping. And you know what? Almost every one of my TikTok favorites now posts most things to Reels. I wish I didn’t resist that for so long.

So, with a bit of time to sit and think and reflect on it all, here are my TikTok takeaways.

It’s imperative to be informed, and if I preach about anything it’s the importance of curiosity, but there is such a thing as being too plugged in. I don’t need to know about all of the pop culture conspiracy theories, and about how you should really oil your belly button for your hair to shine, nor do I need to see people’s very loud opinions on absolutely everything under the sun. You don’t like how your self check-out just went at CVS? Simply, we have gone too far – keep it to yourself. That is uninteresting and not positively affecting society. Also, the English language is already vast and common parlance and lingo is robust – I do not need to engage in two new micro-languages, roundabout censorship terminology and then common speak on the clock app that’s foreign elsewhere.

Unsurprisingly, parasocial relationships are really easy to form on TikTok. It’s weird, on both sides. For me, I first felt it when two women I followed both lost their lives within a few days of each other, both completely suddenly. The TikTok community was in mourning. I felt like I was in mourning! Of course, empathy is beautiful and critical, but I did not know these people. It was a bit weird. Then, a non-name username who I had thought of as one of my most loyal OG followers DMed me and asked if I was in Capri and if not, where was I. Now maybe, this was an overreaction on my part, but it left a very sudsy residue in my mouth. It made me recall all the times I would see in someone else’s comments “we need our fix where are you you haven’t posted in six hours.” And a lot of the time, it was about someone’s kids. It was just all…too weird? For me, right now, at least. Plus, there was never any respect for punctuation.

TikTok is not just like Instagram and YouTube and definitely not Substack. Twitter or X, I wouldn’t know, I’ve never really used it. Most of the clock app difference really is the algorithm. That damn algorithm, which can make careers in an instant and also really mess with your head. The fact that it’s both fully up to chance about how something “performs” and also so completely unpredictable. The fact that something only goes viral when it reaches audiences you really didn’t want to reach. The fact that you’re most likely to go viral if people are fighting in your comments. The fact that you can’t just ignore all of this, or you’re working your ass off making these videos for no one to see. I’m sorry, but it’s gross. An evolution of culture I don’t need in my life nor career, right now.

Of course, there things I loved and sometimes miss.

The thing I always liked most as a viewer of TikTok was getting a peek into lives so vastly different from your own. I’d say 80% of the people I follow on TikTok have almost nothing in common with me. In the time since, I’ve consumed that type of content on YouTube, which is a much more civil space for everyone involved. Incidentally, I followed very few travel creators, as honestly, I found it largely underwhelming.

There are a number of wonderful people I met and connected with on the app, and that’s what I miss most. Especially the ones outside the US, where there’s no TikTok shop and thus still a lot more fun. But to all of my mutuals, all of my followers, all of the kind souls who left comments and encouragement and reported back after your hotel stays, thank you from the bottom of my heart for following me.

I’ve thought a lot about why I feel this strongly about TikTok. Most people are fine with it, or deal with it as they would a fly on the beach. I contemplated that maybe I’m just getting older. But if Gym Tan taught me anything on there, it’s that that’s definitely not the case. I thought, at times, almost indulgently, am I just too intellectual? I wondered if having chronic health conditions gave me perspective of what was worth it in this life and what wasn’t. But then, if I think about it as a strategist, I actually think it’s about my specific age and career trajectory.

I’ve thought for a while now that the year I was born, September 1991, has put a lot of cards in my favor for this career. It’s a unique year, with almost a full decade before the millenium, which meant formative years were split between a pre and post cell phone existence. On my 14th birthday, my dad finally gave into the whole phone thing, although to this day, he has never had a cell phone and has not a single clue how to even end a call on an iPhone (no, he is not color-blind nor deaf and is instructed to just press the red button). I grew up with an old dad, anyone who’s been around for more than a few weeks knows that. He firmly believed that being connected 24/7 was bad for you and that it would…cause cancer. He said it was not healthy for humans to be on underlying alert for an incoming call or message at all times, wherever you are. I disagreed, until I started feeling over-aware on TikTok.

8th grade meant a cell phone and AIM (AOL Instant Messaging) in the height of the craze and…MySpace. But, that means I did live 14 years without ever having my own phone. I had middle school boyfriends and all the sleepovers, sans cell. Blog was a foreign term, I still Asked Jeeves and was newly concerned with how to conserve my monthly text allotment. And then, just one year later, I started high school, and Facebook opened to non-college students. Life documented, online, had just really begun. Life as we knew it was on a dead-end detour. It was 2006.

By 2008, I was full-on Fashion Obsessed junior in high school, and full on obsessed with fashion bloggers. I loved Jane Aldridge (Sea of Shoes) and Leandra Medine (the Man Repeller), and Blaire Eadie (Atlantic-Pacific). I liked them because they were smart and understood the concept of personal style (they all still do, by the way). I’ll never forget when my high school best friend’s mom (who is the most chic and who’s opinion I trusted the most) suggested I start a fashion blog. I have always been precocious. I responded with, “I feel like it’s already too over-saturated. Everyone’s a blogger.” It was 2008. But this is to say, my class was the first year in school to live all four years of high school with the existence of Facebook. This means that by the time I was at UCLA for college and hated it and applied to a focus group at Nasty Gal and got it, I had been quite literally growing up with social media. I had been following all the bloggers since the very beginning. I had been a style.com regular since the start, too. I was co-existing with digital content being created as a concept, and it was cool.

And this put me in a unique position in a unique place at a unique point in time. In 2012, Nasty Gal was the epicenter of youth cool in America, headquartered in Los Angeles, and I was the youngest person working there. I was in college, and for some wild reason I’ll never get over, they thought I was smart and cool and looked to me for, above all things, content direction and who were the what we called at the time “cool girls.” We now call them influencers, and their “content shoots” influencer gifting. Camille Charriere? I pitched her for a content shoot while she was still a lawyer. Paloma Elsesser? When she had less than 5k followers. Chiara Ferragni? I had to push for her, at the start.

And then, after college, I went on to work in New York at creative agencies, as a strategist and as a copywriter and as a go-to social media girl and a go-to “real people” girl (the next evolution, after cool girl, pre-influencer). I have been fortunate to work on global campaigns for global luxury giants like Louis Vuitton and Tiffany and MAC Cosmetics, to do brand strategy for small brands like Kin and RHODE, and influencer strategy for the socially-adept likes of Sakara Life and Mara Hoffman. I get social media. I get content. I get influencers. Really and truly. Content, and the people who create it (creators!) has always been a mother tongue.

And I only mentioned my backstory of social media and content and career so you understand I really, truly do understand that the media landscape is ever-changing, and there are certain evils you must sit civilly with. I have grown and evolved with this world. But just like I’ve never played hard to get with men, I’m not going to keep flirting with a damn algorithm. When I post to Instagram, with the ability to hide my likes, I just don’t care all that much about how something performs, and people generally are much kinder. When I post here on Substack, I know it’s always my best work and I let it be received as it naturally would. It creates a magazine of sorts in the archive. This Substack is what I love the most.

And you’re probably wondering why I didn’t just do a Rothy’s ad and suck it up like everyone else. First of all, I’m not a get rich or die tryin type of girl, I think desperation is the worst look and slow and steady always wins the long-game. I come at it from a creative strategist’s point of view, but mostly just from a human point of view. When I see someone who only wears the brand of the moment schlepping Rothy’s, I know the check was good and that the ROI won’t be great. I don’t know what is going on in that creator’s life so I do not judge why they accepted, but I don’t necessarily trust their recommendations as much going forward.

And that’s what it’s all about for me, and for Happy Hoteling. When I have been on the other side, working for brands or agencies creating partnerships or casting global campaigns, I have always pushed for smaller players with loyal audiences that trust them. Or, big players that use their influence to actually influence the world for good. I never admired the influencers or creators that were constantly promoting. Neither did the most admired decision-makers, by the way. Emma Grede? She’s one of the most powerful and admired women in American business right now because one, she’s nice and funny and genuine and genius, but two, she smells BS from a mile away. Trust and authenticity are the most valuable currencies in the creator economy.

So that’s to say, I could have said yes to the brands that started reaching out within that first month of getting started on TikTok. But I never got a proposal from a brand I genuinely loved enough to attach my name to in internet perpetuity. There are maybe 100 (non-hotel) brands worldwide on my internal YES list. Also, I never once said yes to a hotel invitation to a hotel I didn’t want to stay at. I could feel very differently right now about TikTok if I had done either of those things, but I wanted each and every one of you to trust me until the very end. So, I have only ever partnered with hotels that I really, truly, genuinely want to stay at. Mostly, I reach out first – I find that to be the most honest way to share about a free stay (which, by the way, is not majority). The clothes and pieces I share in The Shopping Section are things I actively put on my ShopMy for my own Monopoly money wishlist. I only say yes to PR for brands I already like, or already was curious about and think positively of. And within that, items I actually want. Oh, you have a new flavor but I do not like that flavor? No, but thank you so much for offering. If you ever see a partnership from me, you can know for sure I love that brand or that hotel, truly and authentically.

This way of doing things doesn’t work with TikTok. And my videos there only every “performed well” when I used my answering the phone voice. I don’t want to use that anymore – I want to be real and delivering my best work, every week. To people that want it! That’s really the key. I’m not in bed with Big Hotels.

So for now, you won’t see me on TikTok. Who know’s if that will change. I do know, I’ll be here and on Instagram and a big revamp for happyhoteling.com is still coming soon. And I want to be so very clear, it was never about my followers – they were so lovely and I was so grateful for each and every one of them, but the algorithm doesn’t favor followers.

So, if you came here from TikTok, I want to thank you from the heart. Thank you for following me somewhere where I could live on a two-way street. Thank you for believing in me. Thank you for trusting me to plan your trips. Thank you for allowing me to evolve and for coming along for the ride. Thank you for watching until the end. Thank you for giving me a second career that I really love.

For anyone new, thank you for being interested in what I have to say. Thank you for taking a bet and trusting my taste. There’s a whole lot out there today, and I do not take it lightly that you chose to have another thing appear in your email once or twice a week. In fact, to this day, I’ve never turned off my subscription notifications. I still get a thrill with each and every Happy Hoteling subscription, free or paid. It’s too exciting to have people believe in you to take a back seat.

And to that, HAPPY HOTELING!

We will do a whole lot of that in a few days, but this explanation was far overdue. Paid subscribers, see you at 3pm Pacific today (October 30) in the Substack App for our Live.

Thank you so much for being here. I feel immense gratitude for this corner of the internet.

xx Your Penpal,

Marissa

P.S. For every hotel I’ve ever worked with (as in, had a press stay or content partnership in exchange for a free stay) the thing they were most interested in was the Substack review. And then Instagram Reels. No one at hotels give a hoot about TikTok. And this is, after all, mostly about hotels.