I currently have 7,201 followers on Instagram. It took 6 years. My peak was at year 4, with 7,777 followers. It felt like an accomplishment. Though to @sugarbeam these numbers were inadequate. Throughout the course of a day she would “check in” with her Instafans. She became obsessed with likes, equating them to self worth. Sugar would spend hours carefully crafting images in Snapseed. She understood the power of how one feed could reach a million people to tell a story in photos. Her Instapower game was on and the international sprinkling of Sugar seemed well in her grasp. Her dedication as a photographer had now come down to one app called Instagram. She finally felt validated.
Meanwhile, my empire began to crumble around 7,351. I was no longer relevant. My days of using Instagram to bring me back to life were lost. I could only be rescued by posts of 98 yr old #msulmer. Instant hearts and bubbles from a community I thought had forgotten me. All it took was one image, after weeks of hiding, to bring me back to Instafame. I would feel glorious and appreciated for a moment, yet still feared my content wasn’t profound or interesting enough to engage my community anymore. How could I only be as good as my last post?!! My ratio of likes to followers had to be more than half! My rating system: Under 150 was a complete failure. 151-206 acceptable mediocracy. 207-285 we’re gettin there. 286-375 you got their attention. 376-425 they like me (whew close call). And anything above 425 Famous! (@sugarbeam needed a slap in the face, real time)
She was losing her power and I was watching it drop one number at a time.
In my research, in actual time and as a real person, I spoke to some people that go by the names of @Beot, @_corn_smut, @Idohaveajob and @nadbot. I discovered Instagram was making them vulnerable too. The excitement of showing the best work had now become stressful. I was not alone in my desperation. I was not the only one who wanted to feel like Sally Field accepting an Oscar in 1984 (“You like me, you really like me”) every time I put up an image. Instagram creates a universal pro. You are part of something that is bigger than you could dream. You connect and share with people all over the world visually. And ultimately, your work is seen. The con, however, is trying to maintain and keep in perspective that the power of a followers "like" is really just a tap on their phone.
This series represents the unpredictability of “likes” on my Instagram feed. My graph of highs and lows and my precarious popularity amongst a handful of people that I don’t know.