A few weeks ago, I was curled up on the couch, scrolling through TikTok, when I stumbled on a video about the perfect vanilla perfume. The girl in the video swore it smelled like “cozy but expensive, like you bake cookies in a Parisian apartment.” Which, obviously, is an aesthetic I deeply aspire to.

I didn’t even look up the perfume. I just thought, hmm, sounds nice.

By the next morning, it was everywhere.

Instagram had ads for it. YouTube had a “best vanilla perfumes” deep dive in my recommendations. Even Google threw it into my “news” feed as if the world urgently needed me to smell like a rich Parisian baker.

And this is not the first time.

It happens with skincare, books, cozy candle shops, and that one time I Googled ‘best air fryer for small kitchens’ at 2 a.m. Suddenly, the entire internet is in full support of my air-fried life.

I used to think my phone was listening, but now I know it doesn’t need to. The internet already knows me—probably better than I know myself.

Marketing or mind control?

Marketing has always been sneaky, but at least before, it was obvious. I knew when I was looking at an ad. I knew when something was being sold to me.

Now, marketing just feels like part of my day.

I open Spotify and see my Made for You playlists, perfectly tailored to my weirdly specific music phases (I still don’t know how they knew I needed an ‘autumn walking through misty fields’ soundtrack, but they did). I scroll through TikTok and see influencers “casually” mentioning products, making it feel more like a recommendation from a friend than an ad.

And don’t even get me started on Amazon. I swear, I go there for one thing, and suddenly the homepage is personally invested in my life goals. Oh, you wanted a French press? Here are some artisanal coffee beans, a milk frother, and a book about the Parisian art of slow living. No pressure.

None of this is random. It is marketing in context—designed to blend into my habits so well that I don’t even question why I suddenly must have a new perfume or why that air fryer looks like the solution to all my problems.

How I became a walking ad for Spotify Wrapped

There is no better example of this than Spotify Wrapped, which, every December, has me willingly marketing Spotify like it’s my job.

I can’t not post my Wrapped results. Even if I’m slightly embarrassed about my top artist (one year it was entirely lo-fi coffee shop music, which says a lot about my state of mind), I still need to share it.

And I am not alone. Everyone posts their Wrapped results. It doesn’t even feel like an ad, but it is the smartest ad campaign ever created.

Spotify does not need to convince me that they “get” me. They show me, in beautifully designed slides, with nostalgic background music and fun little insights like “You listened to enough music to power a road trip to the moon.”

The best part? They didn’t pay for this marketing. We do it for them. Happily.

Jokes on us—memes are making brands millions

At some point, brands realized that if something is funny, we’ll share it—whether it’s an ad or not.

I noticed this when I saw a Gucci meme on Instagram. At first, I thought, Oh, funny, someone put a Gucci watch in a meme format. But no. Gucci themselves had done it.

Luxury brands and meme culture do not seem like they should mix, but suddenly, they did.

And they are not the only ones. Duolingo on TikTok has somehow managed to convince me that their language app is hilarious. They don’t even try to sell it directly. They just post chaotic videos, and now, I associate their brand with fun. So if I ever do decide to learn Arabic properly instead of just collecting pretty calligraphy, guess which app I am downloading first?

Some brands get it right. Others end up like Pepsi’s Kendall Jenner ad.

The best marketing moments are the ones that feel natural—like Oreo’s “Dunk in the Dark” tweet.

When the power went out at the 2013 Super Bowl, Oreo jumped in with “You can still dunk in the dark.” It was simple. Clever. Instantly viral.

Since then, brands have been trying to replicate that kind of magic. Wendy’s has built an entire personality on Twitter by being sarcastic and slightly rude, which somehow makes their burgers seem more appealing.

But not everyone gets it right. Pepsi’s Kendall Jenner ad was a perfect example of a brand misunderstanding the moment. It tried to insert itself into activism and ended up looking completely tone-deaf.

Marketing works best when it feels authentic. If a brand tries too hard to force itself into a trend, we feel it, and suddenly, the magic is gone.

Marketing in disguise: the art of the influencer BFF

I know influencers get paid to promote things. I do.

And yet, when I see my favorite travel blogger raving about a “must-have” backpack or a skincare brand that “completely changed their routine,” I still catch myself thinking, hmm, maybe I should try that.

That’s because influencer marketing isn’t just about selling—it’s about trust.

Brands don’t just want influencers to promote their products. They want them to live with them, so when they mention a new serum or a candle brand, it doesn’t feel like an ad. It feels like a recommendation from a friend.

And honestly? It works.

First the algorithm, now AI

If algorithms already shape what I see, AI is about to predict what I want before I even realize it.

Victoria’s Secret is already using AI to customize email subject lines based on what customers are most likely to click on.

AI-generated influencers like Lil Miquela are out here partnering with brands, and AI-powered shopping feeds are so advanced that soon, I might not even have to search for things anymore. They will just… appear.

Did I buy this, or did the algorithm decide?

Marketing used to be something I noticed. Now, it is so seamlessly part of my online life that I participate in it without even thinking.

Every time I
✔️ Share a meme that happens to be an ad
✔️ Post my Spotify Wrapped results
✔️ Watch an influencer’s “holy grail” product review

I am playing into a marketing strategy that was designed to feel like anything but a marketing strategy.

Hackley’s theory that marketing shapes culture isn’t just an idea—it is happening. And the scariest part?

I don’t even mind.

References

Hackley, C. (2013). Marketing in Context: Setting the Scene. Palgrave Macmillan.
Jenkins, H. (2006). Convergence Culture: Where Old and New Media Collide. NYU Press.
Smythe, D. (1981). On the Audience Commodity and its Work. In Media and Cultural Studies: KeyWorks, Routledge.