Behind the Perfect Post
From left: A July 2026 post by Brooke C. Noles promotes the ’Sconset Bluff Walk as a Nantucket “must”; the account 'A Nantucket Summer' poses among the island’s hydrangeas; influencer Lindsay Silberman documents a Nantucket brand trip at The Nantucket Hotel; and a Sam Edelman video turns a diverted flight into content during an influencer visit to the island. Screenshots from Instagram and social media posts.
The Real Impact of Influencers on Nantucket
Mark Gonnella • July 21, 2026
By midmorning in July, Nantucket can feel less like an island than a carefully arranged backdrop.
On Main Street, phones rise in front of flower boxes and cobblestones. Outside cafes, visitors reposition coffees and breakfast plates for the right angle. At Cisco Brewers, friends film one another holding frozen drinks and wearing newly purchased merchandise. Along the ’Sconset Bluff Walk, people stop between private homes to record dances, narrate travel tips, and capture the version of Nantucket their followers expect to see.
Within minutes, the images are edited, captioned, and sent around the world.
For island businesses, that attention can mean new customers, longer lines, and a level of free publicity that traditional advertising could never buy. For residents, it can mean congestion, noise, strangers outside their windows, and the transformation of once-quiet places into destinations on someone else’s digital itinerary.
Influencers are not simply visiting Nantucket anymore. They are helping define it for millions of people who may never have been here. The question is what happens when the online version of Nantucket begins changing the real one.
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Selling the Nantucket Dream
Many people believe that influencers have become an integral part of modern tourism. All of our beautiful beaches, amazing restaurants, pricey boutiques, and other hidden gems are introduced to millions of people all over the world. As soon as an influencer's TikTok or Instagram reel about Nantucket goes viral, thousands of wannabe visitors race to book their next trip.The FOMO is real.
However, not everyone here is a fan of these people. Many believe that influencers represent something entirely different: a mass marketing of a place that has spent hundreds of years preserving its uncommon identity.
Nantucket is so much more than a vacation destination to year-rounders. They value their close-knit community and its rich history. They cherish their traditions that can never possibly be captured in a short social media post. Many opponents are concerned that influencers frequently feature only the island's most captivating attractions while missing the people and culture that make Nantucket special.
There is now a growing concern that content creator tourism contributes to our overcrowding and increased traffic problems.
More importantly, many believe that this modern form of advertising only aims to increase followers rather than offer a true adoration for the island itself.
So the question isn't whether influencers exist on Nantucket. The real question is: Does Nantucket really need them? The answer depends entirely on who you ask.
The Business Case for Influence
If you're the owner of a new boutique clothing store on Federal Street or the latest restaurant trying to put diners in your seats, social media can be a free form of positive promotion. All it takes is an influencer with half a million followers to post a short plug about your newest Nantucket handmade sweater or tasty bowl of chowder, and before you know it, business is booming.
You may even think many of the local companies have welcomed this type of advertising. The numbers, however, are really not what they seem, based on the many posts that you’ve seen come across your feed.
Cisco Brewers is not inviting iinfluencers in to sample their newest beer or cocktail for free, and Handlebar Cafe is not offering complimentary coffee or pastries in exchange for a 30-second TikTok. While a handful of newer businesses may benefit from partnering with influencers whose followers match their ideal clientele, many of Nantucket's longstanding businesses have built loyal customer bases over decades and have little need for influencer marketing.
Another important piece for newer businesses is that influencer marketing can achieve something traditional advertising cannot — it generates excitement. In some cases, people may feel like they have just been let in on the best well-kept secret on the island.
And let's face it, in today’s digital world, these types of feelings carry a significant value.
Charlotte Drinkwater/WSJ
From left: Nantucket content creator Charlotte Drinkwater drinking wine during one of her island visits; influencer Kylie Swanson, who drew criticism after organizing “Camp Nantucket,” a paid luxury retreat that prompted complaints about requests for complimentary services, the use of some off-island vendors, and the broader practice of packaging Nantucket as an influencer experience.
An Influencer’s View
If you ask Charlotte Drinkwater, a Nantucket content creator with more than 40,000 followers, she'll tell you that her videos have had a meaningful impact on several island businesses. Even more rewarding, she says, is hearing from visitors who decided to vacation on Nantucket after discovering the island through her posts showcasing its natural beauty, beaches, and small-town charm.
But when asked whether influencers have helped introduce Nantucket to a new generation of visitors, Charlotte's answer is more nuanced. She believes they have. At the same time, she acknowledges the downsides that come with social media's growing influence.
While she enjoys sharing the island she loves with a wider audience, she is concerned about the increasing number of off-island brand trips, pop-up events, and sponsored campaigns that can make Nantucket feel overcommercialized. She also recognizes that some businesses and locations have experienced the unintended consequences of overexposure, as once-quiet spots become crowded after going viral.
When a Hidden Gem Goes Viral
Perhaps no place illustrates the power, and the downside, of influencer culture better than the Sconset Bluff Walk.
For generations, the narrow footpath winding between rose-covered cottages and the Atlantic Ocean was one of Nantucket's best-kept secrets. Then it started appearing on TikToks, Instagram and travel blogs, quickly becoming one of the island's must-see attractions.
The result was more than just increased foot traffic. Residents whose homes border the trail suddenly found a steady stream of strangers passing just beyond their backyards. While many visitors came simply to enjoy the scenery, others arrived looking to create content — playing music, filming dance videos, and treating the historic walkway as a social media backdrop rather than the quiet public easement it had always been.
After residents raised concerns with the Nantucket Select Board about growing crowds and noise, the Board responded this past March by recommending seasonal access hours between 8:30 a.m. and 7:30 p.m. It was an acknowledgment of a new reality on Nantucket: when a hidden gem goes viral, the consequences extend far beyond the number of likes on a screen.
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The Other Side of the Influence
Of course, every viral hotspot creates winners as well as losers.
While many Bluff Walk residents remain frustrated by the crowds, John Pearl, owner of Claudette's Sandwiches in ‘Sconset, has found himself on the other side of the influencer boom. A lifelong Nantucketer, Pearl inherited the tiny sandwich shop from his mother, Claudette, and has stayed true to her philosophy: keep it simple. Three breakfast sandwiches, seven classic lunch sandwiches, and fresh ingredients served on traditional wheat bread. No gimmicks. No trendy menu. Just comfort food done right.
Then the Bluff Walk went viral.
Today, there's often a line out the door from 8:00 a.m. until 3:00 p.m. Nearly every customer asks the same question after ordering: "How do we get to the Bluff Walk?"
Pearl still shakes his head at the number of visitors now making the trip to ‘Sconset because of something they saw on TikTok or Instagram.
So where does he stand on the influencer debate? He laughs. "Well, I guess it all depends on what side of the influence you wind up on."
In a single sentence, Pearl may have summed up the entire controversy. For every resident who sees crowds, noise, and overexposure, there's a business owner who sees new customers, record sales, and a cash register that has never been busier.
Photos by Mark Gonnella
John Sylvia, owner of Sylvia Antiques and the Four Winds Craft Guild, stands with Jackie Gonnella beneath the shop’s pointed “NO INFLUENCERS” sign; customers come and go at Claudette’s Sandwiches in ’Sconset, where the popularity of the nearby Bluff Walk has helped produce steady lines and a surge of new visitors.
Experiencing Nantucket — or Packaging It?
But not everyone on Nantucket is celebrating the influencer economy.
Talk to enough year-round residents and a different story begins to emerge. They argue that the island has become less about experiencing Nantucket and more about documenting it. For generations, Nantucket has welcomed visitors and relied on tourism to fuel its economy. But many locals believe there's a growing difference between being a tourist and being a content creator. Tourists come to enjoy the island. Influencers come to package it. One leaves with memories, the other leaves with content.
That raises an uncomfortable question: At what point does sharing Nantucket become exploiting it?
Few people express that sentiment more bluntly than John Sylvia, a lifelong Nantucketer and owner of Sylvia Antiques and the Four Winds Craft Guild. His grandfather, Frank Sylvia, opened the family business in 1927, and for nearly a century it has been a fixture on Main Street, known for antiques and one of the island's finest collections of handcrafted Nantucket Lightship Baskets. With a reputation built over generations, Sylvia has never needed social media to bring customers through his doors.
His opinion of influencers is unmistakable. "It's ridiculous," he says. "People just eat this stuff up."
Then there's the sign. Hanging above a doorway inside the shop is a beautifully crafted Nantucket quarterboard with two simple words: NO INFLUENCERS.
Sylvia says it started as a joke. Today, he says, it has become something else — a statement. One that, according to him, resonates with many longtime retailers who worry that the island's authenticity is slowly being replaced by an endless search for the next viral post. Whether you agree with the sign or not, it captures the divide at the heart of Nantucket's influencer debate: When does promoting a place stop celebrating it and start changing it?
What Kind of Influence Does Nantucket Deserve?
Maybe this debate was never really about influencers. Maybe it's about respect. Influencers like Charlotte Drinkwater, who celebrate Nantucket's history, support local businesses, and encourage visitors to respect the island, can be powerful ambassadors. Others see Nantucket as little more than a backdrop — a place to collect content before moving on to the next destination.
Nantucket has survived whaling booms, great fires, hurricanes, and centuries of change. Social media is simply its latest challenge. So perhaps the real question isn't, "Does Nantucket need influencers?" It's "What kind of influence does Nantucket deserve?" The island doesn't need more perfectly filtered sunsets. It needs people who understand that behind every lighthouse, cobblestone street, and weathered shingle is a real community, not a movie set.
The day Nantucket becomes just another viral destination is the day it starts losing what made it extraordinary in the first place. The island doesn't need to go viral, it just needs to remain Nantucket.
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