Instagram "farmfluencers" are mostly liars

Farming is pretty gross in real life

I know you love to scroll their feeds - I do too.

As someone who followed the siren song of the "farm life" myself, I hate to break it to you - most of the Instagram "farmfluencers" are liars. Sorry.

Apron sinks are cute but hard to clean. Our actual farm sinks are those utility sinks that they stock in bulk at the hardware store. Also, we learned enough plumbing the hard way that we can change them out periodically; they need to be changed out.

Fresh cut flowers are almost never arranged in our sinks the same way the moms at school drop off with the designer bags have "messy buns" that took 30 minutes of effort to look effortless. If we had flowers, which we don’t, we're probably not taking a picture of them for social media because there is so much work to do. SO. MUCH. WORK.

Instead of flowers, our sinks usually contain some syringes, waterers for various animals, which are probably covered with some poop, blood, or probably both, and maybe even a live animal or two that we are trying to clean off, heat up, or cool down depending on the needs of that moment.

Nothing that we have is white. "Farmhouse white" is not a thing that exists in real life. Nor do the various shades of muted Pantone eggshells. None of that is real. An authentic farmhouse exists in the bright colors of clutter, grit, new life, and occasional death. Our lives inhabit the messy vibrance of glorious chaos - our only eggshell tones come from the actual eggs.

And, by the way, sometimes even our actual eggs are covered in poop and/or blood. When the eggs finally hatch? Well, there's nothing about hatching that's a sterile and calming beige. It’s magical and gross, just like almost everything else here.

One of my best girlfriends suggested that I use this column to call the "farm life liars" out by name - one by one. The nature of the internet and grabbing attention on social media seems to demand that "punching up" is part of the equation. Start a fight with someone who has more followers than you, air grievances publicly, and you'll both gain followers and readers - lather, rinse, repeat.

Much of the non-porn internet survives on that instant hit of dopamine people feel when they see a fight, even between two people they don't know. The outrage receptors go off, and you're off to the rabbit hole races. Whose side are you on? Meghan or the Queen? Johnny Depp or Amber Herd? It doesn't matter because it all drives traffic, likes, flame wars, and eyeballs.

One of my favorite newsletters, by Dan Nelkin, is called "A Self-Help Guide for Creatives." He writes helpful nuggets for writers who struggle, like me (I also bought his book.) No matter your industry, by the way, I suggest you sign up for his newsletter. He wrote this week about creating content that is "broccoli" rather than "chocolate" (if you want a copy of this newsletter, email me at okmaher@gmail.com, and I'll send it to you). The nature of the internet feeds chocolate lovers, not those of us who see the need for a healthier alternative.

But, this little column on the internet is mine. Because I created it as my respite from the rest of the world, I'm going to refrain from comments aimed at anyone in particular. 20 years in politics showed me the double-edged sword that is the power of internet outrage. It's an incredible megaphone but also plays off our most base tribal instincts.

Starting a flame war is chocolate; talking about the "Instagram farming" genre at large is broccoli. Is this newsletter as likely to "go viral" if I'm not "on blast" by some farm influencer? No. But also, I decline that very effective approach. I want to grow like broccoli. It's going to be slower, but the vitamins will make it worth it - I hope.

However, it doesn't take a lot of imagination to know who I'm talking about here. They're everywhere - the "chicken mamas" and the (mostly) women who make farmhouse chic a designer category when the reality is they have a lot of help that you don't see behind those deliberately-staged portraits in soft pastels.

I, too, love to scroll from one bucolic Reel to the next. They're all full of skinny 20-somethings in Muck boots who manage to look dewy all the time. Lies.

I saw one recently where a beautiful woman was "gardening" in a pristine short white dress and heeled booties. This is a photo shoot - it's not gardening. Trust me, I will never Instagram my actual gardening looks - I won't even look in a mirror before I get in the shower and watch the grayish brown water circle the drain until it finally runs clear on garden days.

There's nothing wrong, by the way, with photo shoots. I love them. I even love photo shoots with my animals. What I don't do, though, is pretend like I do actual farmwork looking the way I look for a shoot. If you did a side-by-side comparison of how I look when I'm actually scooping poop, assisting a birth, milking first thing in the morning, gathering eggs, or planting, with a picture when I have makeup on taken by a professional, you'd be hard pressed to believe I'm the same person. In many ways, I'm not.

Earlier this year, the New York Times highlighted a couple who bought a farmhouse, like many did in the pandemic, and almost immediately regretted it. I laughed at the quote: "You see these people on Instagram with their farm life," Ms. Mohan said. "Nobody tells you what actual hard work that is and how time consuming it is."

Although it seemed ridiculous to me at the time of publishing - who would commit to an entire lifestyle without due diligence?!?! - the more I scroll through social media, the more sense it makes. For many people, their only exposure to farming and agriculture is the internet. The highly sterilized version of #farmlife shows only the upsides.

There are so many upsides to farming, but they are delivered on a sometimes literal wave of every type of bodily fluid, dirt, and exhaustion you can imagine. I would argue the upsides are worth it, but hiding the cost is a disservice to all. It's fun to scroll and watch the beauty, but remember that for farming, just like everything else, the internet isn't real life.