In this opinion piece, Sticki’s head of brand and partnerships Rachael Webb argues that brands are wasting their creator marketing budgets by forcing influencers into rigid briefs that ignore their audiences, content styles and the very reason brands wanted to work with them in the first place. Using Pepsi Max’s Manta bottle campaign as an example, Webb explores why creator-brand mismatches are damaging audience trust and why brands need to give creators the freedom to do what they do best.
I am a Coke Zero drinker.
It’s delicious. Quenches my thirst and doesn’t leave my mouth feeling lined with sugar (looking at you, Coke’s full-fat sister).
Up until earlier this year, I’d happily swap it for Pepsi Max. Yes I can taste the difference, but I didn’t mind. A sugar-free delight is a sugar-free delight after all.
Now when I hear the words Pepsi Max, my brain plays the clip of Meg Stalter yelling GET ME OUT OF HERE. All I can see is one of my least favourite influencer campaigns of the year: the launch of the new Pepsi Max Manta bottle. The one with the hourglass figure. A brand with a Gen Z at the helm would’ve made a Kim K joke and called it a day. Pepsi pushed boundaries.
Before we dive into the weeds, a caveat for the team at PepsiCo. Love your work (most of the time). I named my cat Pepsi growing up (may she rest in peace). I promise this piece will have a point if you keep reading. Love you. Ok.
Now let’s get into the aforementioned weeds. We’re in a bit of a content epidemic. Brands are paying more than ever to get into creators’ feeds, and a lot of that money is making those feeds worse (and honestly, for everyone).
I’m sure changing the shape of their bottle was a big deal for Pepsi (really though, where did all the old ones go, they all disappeared at once?). But call me sheltered, my immediate question was (and Pepsi, I’m sorry) who on earth cares.
My second question was how this earth-shattering news found itself on my desk. And by desk I mean TikTok feed.
I was mid-investigation (did a former Love Islander have a new man? I must know) when I landed on her most recent video. I follow her for her style. She’s normally talking to camera, having a yap, doing a fit check or hanging out with friends. This was a skit. A phone call to a friend about the new bottle, then a street style moment wandering around with it like this season’s must-have bag.
In an age of the 24-karat gold Labubu Sonny Angel limited-edition blind box Baggu bag, Pepsi was trying to position a soft drink bottle as a fashion statement? Whilst also announcing this was something I was supposed to be elated about? And that this was the biggest, most important news of all time?
I fear I’m the wrong audience.
And to be clear, she did exactly what she was asked to do. We all know a creator’s job is to promote products, that illusion was lifted years ago. But it’s on the brand, and the brief, to make sure the creator, the format and the product actually make sense together.
We see it time and time again: a mismatch between the brief and the creator. It usually starts when a brand wants a KOL instead of an influencer. A key opinion leader. A social tastemaker, the crème de la crème of the influencer crop. In practice, it means whoever the person signing off on the creator list actually recognises.
Ex-reality TV. Sportspeople. Someone who was huge on Instagram in 2012 and still posts. They feel recognisable. The person choosing likes them and watches their content. They just never stopped to consider whether that was reflective of 1: the brand being promoted, and 2: the actual tides of social media they’re seemingly disjointed from.
Brands pay an exorbitant premium to access a creator’s unique community only to aggressively mute them the second the contract is signed.
The second a creator abandons their native format to meet a rigid brand mandate, the audience smells the transaction. It doesn’t look like a fun video for a new soft drink bottle. It looks like a hostage video funded by a corporate marketing department. And this isn’t just me being dramatic (ok, a little bit). Modash’s 2026 Creator Trust Report, a US survey of 1,042 adults, found 40% say they trust creators, and 43% said a product that doesn’t fit the creator’s content damages that trust.
You cannot manifest a mundane household item into a coveted lifestyle accessory just because you paid someone very cool to hold it. The audience is not admiring the product integration. They are trying to calculate exactly how much money it took to make someone pretend to care about it. And it doesn’t stop at your campaign either (sorry). That creator’s next brand deal performs worse, and the brand after you pays the same premium for a lot less attention.
Everyone on social media is a self-proclaimed marketing professional. Give them a mini mic and they’ll post a scathing review of your strategy for the masses. Factual? Maybe not. Backed by hundreds of thousands of everyday people who agree? Yes.
Meanwhile, the content tanks, someone ticks the box on the report to say it went live, and no one bats an eye. No one critically looks at it and goes “would I actually watch that?”
You have to trust the creator to know their followers better than you do. A good brief does not ask someone to change their style, their tone and their entire personality to announce a packaging update or a seasonal sale.
Do your bit to at least keep your brand authentic. (Still yelling GET ME OUT OF HERE, fyi.)
