Mayo Culpa
We’re back after a long break. I intended for this newsletter to be weekly and, for the first 7 weeks, I managed to stay on that schedule. One of my key goals for this project is to get better at communicating my ideas via the writing process: 1) collecting ideas worth talking about 2) editing those thoughts into succinct, digestible prose, 3) finding and honing a entertaining voice and 4) getting faster and more efficient over time. The reason for wanting to do this is because I waffle which does a disservice to insightful thinking: you can think a smart thing but what’s the point if you drown your insights in a deluge of filler.
I think that I was making headway in the first run of these dispatches. It was hard for sure - I’d usually spend a week working on each installment, pressing post at the very last minute - but it was a challenge I welcomed and figured that it would just force me to get better and quicker. I was getting a lot from the process of writing the newsletter: following the rabbit hole to different niches and subcultures; connecting dots and trying to predict how behaviors and beliefs in micro-micro-communities will influence mass culture in the future; identifying emerging attitudinal shifts and sharing my points of view. And although I don’t think I found my angle or my voice, I was ‘doing’ which, I believe is the essence of success - even if there are diversions along the way and mistakes are made, progress requires action. However, I felt a lot of pressure to make my deadlines, to be insightful, to publish posts worth reading so, although fulfilling, it wasn’t an entirely pleasant process. But again - growth through challenge, right?
Then, in mid July, Trump got shot and then Biden dropped out of the 2024 presidential race and the world of information I exist in, already loud with the constant hum of scandal, outrage, atrocity and uncertainty, became deafening with the noise around these landmark events. It was impossible to not think about these things - to tear my attention away from current affairs and focus it on the more interesting, quirky and prescient parts of culture I’m actually interested in. And not only that, but I couldn’t answer the question of ‘who cares?’ about what I have to say about Chinese content farms and billboard design when there’s so much more important things happening. For the record: I’m not saying that American culture wars and politics make everything else unimportant, I’m just pinpointing the moment in time where I started to experience what I assume is writer’s block.
It’s a terrible cocktail of bad feelings to want but have nothing to say, or no way to say it. There’s frustration of course, but also guilt because you know you should be productive but you’re not, and you can’t really explain why. I have a tiny audience and not one of you is anticipating these newsletters but I still feel guilty for having subscribers (some paid) and not delivering what I promised. Most of all I disappoint myself: I wanted to test myself, I wanted to grow, but it turns out it’s hard! So, is this really writer’s block? Or am I just avoiding the hard work necessary to write and publish these dispatches? Am I giving up? Am I afraid of failure and so avoiding the project all together? Is this shit? Am I wasting my time and yours? All of these thoughts swirl around and compound over time, adding more to the blockage.
So how do you get out of this mess? For me, it was writing the above. Acknowledging it and moving on, I guess.
The Vertical Video Revolution
Vertical video has been with us for nearly 15 years, evolving from the raw, unpolished realm of Snapchat to a familiar format native to the social feeds of an entire generation. For most of this time, it’s been the scrappy cousin of traditional horizontal video—embraced by mobile-first creators but often void of the rich, cinematic quality associated with film.
Historically, creators opted for a rough, underproduced look, blending starkly lit front-camera monologues with the shaky, haphazard style of user-generated content. Over time, brands recognized the need to be ‘native’ and started to borrow from the creator playbook which was based on a strategy that played on authenticity—”realness” was gold, and anything too polished reeked of corporate manipulation.
But there’s a shift underway. This fake-organic video style has saturated our feeds, to the point where it’s entirely predictable and ignorable. I experience this as someone for whom the format is a relative novelty but for the generation raised on vertical video, the “raw” ring-lit aesthetic their predecessors relied on is neither novel or particularly attention grabbing - it’s unremarkable to eyes that never knew anything else.
As a result, creators from the social generation are creating a new style of vertical video that infuses filmic quality with well written scripts, intentional camera direction, smart editing decisions, polished post production and overall film craft into 9:16. However, they’re also incorporating proven best practices for social into this evolution of the format: visual variety to capture and keep attention; transcribed audio over picture; content with calls to action; inspirational monologues; the guise of giving advice or tips. These videos strategically blend art with elements geared for engagement.
Creators like Ethan Tran (@ethan.uncurated), Elliot Walker (@InfiniteElliot), Mylene Mae (@mylenesmind), Adrian Per (@omgadrian), We Love You (@_we_love_you) and @mory.q are at the forefront of this evolution. Whereas their creator forerunners fostered parasocial relationships with their audience, directly addressing them - “What’s Up Guys?” - as though they were in the same space, this new breed of creator borrows more from the film tradition of breaking the 4th wall, where the filmmaker establishes a world that their scene exists within (different to ours) and then steps out of that world to engage with the viewer, letting us in as secret voyeur whilst also clearly signaling the difference between our planes of existence. They consciously invite us into carefully curated worlds, abandoning the facade of 1:1 “authenticity” that’s become more off putting than convincing.
The hallmarks of this emerging style are themes of optimistic sentimentality and affirmation, slowing down and disconnecting, introspection and emotional connection. Go out and touch some grass basically. Additionally, the all important text over picture takes more cues from Wes Anderson films rather than auto-generated TikTok captions.
Ironically, it seems that the best way to reach people to tell them to put down their phones is to create engaging, scroll-stopping content that they will view on their phones which poses the question: are the creators behind this new style a) sincerely broadcasting their message on platforms they know their audience will be? or b) cynically producing engaging content designed to go viral and hit high metrics, unbothered by whether their grass-touching messaging is effective or not.
The Spread
I’m on the fence on whether I like where this evolution is going. On one hand, I’m grateful for better crafted content on my feed and I’m glad to see human creativity standing out amongst the quagmire of AI generated content. On the other, it’s hard not to see a formula at play and harder to ignore the possibility that this seemingly artful content has been reverse engineered to get clicks, eyeballs, conversation etc. Does anything on social media come from a place of simply doing for the sake of doing? I also find these pretty but preachy videos to be annoying as hell.
As far as a finger in the wind goes; brands should be taking note big time. Zooming out, there’s tremendous overlap between this emerging style of social video and the principles of good, effective right-brain marketing, signaling a vibe shift back to emotional engagement (mapped below with emojis added for social video 2.0):
More proof of this appetite for more foundational, “old school” type marketing content can be found in the comment section of the eCampus.com ads that recently ran on social… 25 years after they originally aired on TV. The fascinating thing about these ads is that they’re from an era that lines up perfectly with the retro tastes of today, successfully convincing the majority of people (myself included) that they’re current.
They’re also just good, funny ads: simple and well made with a proper emotionally grounded consumer insight. There’s a few so check them out on the eCampus.com IG
More Emulsion
#hopecore almost hitting 1m posts on TikTok
90s2000s.commercials, for your snacking pleasure
@y2k.ads IG blog full of print ads from the 2000s.
Peak era Spin Magazine clippings on Pinterest
Join the conversation on Discord.
Discuss why The Royal Tenenbaums is the only good Wes Anderson film and more in the #av-club channel in the Mayonnaise Discord server.
This has been the Mayonnaise dispatch, thanks for reading. What did you think? Let me know in the comments or tell me on Discord because it’s your feedback that helps improve this project. If you liked what you read, consider sharing the substack to people you think might like it too.