On Wednesday night, greeters for a party at 58 Kent directed guests to a QR code posted by the door. This would be their map for the night, showing off rooms rigged with mics, cameras, and sound insulation — perks designed to please gamers, podcasters, TikTokers, and anyone else with a front-facing camera and a dream. It was the opening of the Lighthouse, a sort of Hype House–factory hybrid for the city’s ballooning numbers of “content creators.” Glommed around open bars serving Belvedere and Albariño were crowds of 20-somethings, dressed to be seen in statement furs and thigh-highs, Y2K purses and T-shirts of their own design. Two Instagrammers with brand deals chatted with a woman shilling cosmetics “for men.” A model who goes by Monique put down a red wine and dipped into a soundproof booth to broadcast an improvised polemic that began: “Discipline is sexy. Self-control is sexy.” Like everyone else, she shared her handle before her number. “TikTok or Instagram?” she said, typing into a stranger’s phone directly.
The business card is dead, the traditional office is dying, and these kinds of base camps for wellness influencers and dating podcasters may be on the rise.
