Jason Koerner/Getty Images; Rodin Eckenroth/FilmMagic; Chelsea Jia Feng/BI
A livestream hosted by Jeffree Star filled my iPhone screen during a late-night TikTok doomscroll in June.
Wearing a baby-blue Western blouse with fringe detailing and a wig of the same shade, Star stood behind a pink desk with beauty influencer Paul Dao. Together, they promoted lip gloss and other products from Jeffree Star Cosmetics.
It had been a long time since I'd watched Star's content, which usually highlights his lavish lifestyle and harsh but honest makeup opinions. He's also known for getting involved in internet scandals. As memories of "dramageddon" in 2018 flashed through my mind, I shuddered and scrolled away.
But 10 minutes later, TikTok showed me yet another livestream: this one from OG beauty YouTuber Tati Westbrook, who attempted to sell me a hair curler — a far cry from the cult-favorite eyeshadow palette she created in 2019 — through the small screen.
I shouldn't have been surprised to see either peddling products. Influencers have always been, at least to some extent, glorified salespeople. Still, I couldn't help but cringe. Their voices sounded different, like anxious sales reps trying to get my attention. There was a blatant urge to sell, sell, sell.
Some millennial-aged viewers shared similar, and often harsher, thoughts.
"I'm sad. I used to be able to trust all of your reviews because you were doing it for the love of the game. Not commission. ????," one person commented on one of Westbrook's TikToks promoting her recent stream.
"You are getting worse than Kylie Jenner," another person wrote on one of Star's videos. "It's every other day some kind of BS sale or relaunch. I miss the old Jeffree Star, this new desperate JS sucks!!"
I was right there with them. Seeing these larger-than-life figures go from the top of the beauty food chain to hosting flash sales QVC-style was jarring. But as I later realized, their tactic is also kind of genius: They're using a free platform to directly sell to consumers while also increasing their brand awareness.
Rewind a few years and beauty influencers dominated the cosmetics industry alongside the audiences they built on YouTube — even when their careers were rife with scandal.
Forbes reported Michelle Phan, who is widely credited as the first internet makeup influencer, as one of the top-earning YouTubers of 2015 with $3 million in annual revenue. Lucrative beauty businesses only exploded from there.
YouTuber Jaclyn Hill famously collaborated with Becca Cosmetics on a glimmering highlighter in 2016, bringing the company $3.5 million in online sales across five hours. Two years later, Forbes said Star reached $18 million in annual earnings — partially because of one of his stand-out products brought in $20 million when it first launched, as Star told fellow YouTuber Shane Dawson.
Star then created a collaboration line with Dawson, who's best known for posting controversial comedy sketches and videos exploring conspiracy theories. Before it was released in 2019, Star's team estimated the makeup line would make at least $35 million if it sold out, which it did almost immediately.
However, after years of influencer feuds, multiple cancellations, and the pandemic, beauty YouTubers found themselves floundering, Alex Rawitz, the director of research and insights at the influencer-marketing platform CreatorIQ, said.
Stars like Charles went from earning tens of millions of views on YouTube videos to just over one million per post, and TikTokkers like Mikayla Nogueira, with her nearly 16 million followers, stepped into their spotlights.
"They used to be at the top of our creator leaderboards, driving the most engagement for brands and being at the forefront of the industry," Rawitz told Business Insider. "They were replaced by people who still did tutorials but were doing very quick cuts and 20-second bite-sized things more adapted for modern attention spans."
James Charles / YouTube
Some of YouTube's best and brightest attempted to resurface in 2023, like Charles, who made a splash with a Cosmopolitan cover story, and Star, who opened his combination meat and makeup store in Wyoming.
But OG beauty influencers really cracked the comeback code when they entered the wild world of TikTok livestreaming, earning them revived reputations and revenue.
Star began hosting virtual events on the platform in 2023, and Westbrook hosted her first livestream in April of this year. Fellow beauty YouTubers James Charles and Laura Lee also followed suit.
These creators have often taken an interactive sales approach with their streamed events.
Star, for example, has hosted makeup masterclasses alongside professional artists so that viewers can learn how to use specific products from his brand, Jeffree Star Cosmetics, and then receive discounts on them via TikTok Shop.
Charles, on the other hand, has focused his efforts on making his brand's cosmetic sponge the top-selling makeup blender on the platform.
Westbrook and Lee have taken a different approach, seemingly partnering with companies to sell products for them on the TikTok commerce platform at discounted rates. Still, they've made their efforts personal.
Lee, like Star, has packed orders by hand on camera during their livestreams, and Westbrook has demonstrated the tools and makeup she's promoted on herself.
In doing so, Rawitz said that these creators merge the old-school ways of long-form YouTube content with the modern, quick-moving platform of TikTok.
"They don't necessarily have to learn new tricks or try to adapt with creators who are coming up within the short-form video ecosystem," he said. "Instead, they can have a more discursive stream with their followers where they're talking about whatever comes to mind, talking about their day, but also selling product."
Laura Lee/TikTok
Star, Westbrook, and Lee all go live at least once a week — with Star often streaming a few times weekly across two accounts: his personal and brand page. And when they do, it can last for hours. A TikTok live on the Jeffree Star Cosmetics page hosted on July 24 lasted around four hours, while Westbrook was live for eight hours straight on July 10.
Leah Spector, the director of communications and content at CreatorIQ, said these lengthy livestreams are strategic for earning revenue, maintaining engagement, and attracting new fans.
"The longer you go live, the more likely you are to capture new viewers throughout," she told BI. "When I see that there's 20,000 people watching a live, I'm like, 'Oh, something interesting must be happening. Let me join in.' It's simply a numbers game of getting more people to join, even if they drop out pretty quickly."
Westbrook, in particular, has been inundated with criticism and cringe callouts each time she's promoted her livestreams on TikTok.
"This feels like HSN," one person commented on her page, while others joked she's in her "QVC era."
Influencers, however, seem to be in on the joke. Westbrook posted a video on July 10 poking fun at her livestreams.
"Clearly, creators don't mind and are leaning into the potential cringiness of the format," Rawitz said.
They can do so with the help of longtime fans standing behind them. Mazaiah Hutchinson, a 27-year-old from Pennsylvania, has watched beauty influencers for over a decade. She told BI that, naturally, she's followed stars like Westbrook to TikTok.
She views livestreams as a way to connect with her favorite creators and finds the QVC style of selling to be nostalgic.
"We look up to these creators, so it's really nice to be in their presence," Hutchinson said. "You can send a comment and immediately get a response back. You can actually see in real time what they're doing."
In some ways, I understand the appeal.
While writing this analysis, I tuned into a livestream hosted on the Jeffree Star Cosmetics account. As random makeup artists loudly did product demos for two hours, I found myself wishing something more exciting would happen — like an appearance from Star himself.
TikTok livestreaming is a big business with big money attached.
ASMR influencer Lucy Davis previously told BI that she earns between $20 and $300 each time she streams, while Jakey Boehm, a TikToker who streams himself sleeping, said he's earned $34,000 in a single month.
Rawitz said that while it's unclear exactly how much these beauty influencers are personally earning through these live streams, hosting them has obvious benefits. They have the potential to earn money through products they sell, donations sent by viewers, and new fans who become regular consumers.
In the words of one fan who commented on a post from Star: "You bring the beauty, I'll bring the debit card."
"If they're devoting this much time to it, then it is likely profitable for them and likely, in the end, profitable for the brand," he said.
That's not to mention how crucial TikTok Shop has been to the success of beauty labels in 2024 — especially when influencers promote their products.
According to CreatorIQ, Jeffree Star has generated at least $686,298 in Earned Media Value (EMV) for E.l.f. Cosmetics via TikTok this year so far. EMV is a metric used throughout the social media industry — and analyzed with proprietary technology at CreatorIQ —to help determine the value of any creator's social-media content about different brands.
Ultimately, the benefit of these lengthy live streams seemingly exceeds profit.
Creators who once needed expensive lighting rigs, scandal-proof scripts, and hours to edit YouTube videos can now casually hop on live streams without any of that. Better yet, they can also have employees host for them.
Live events, especially those that last hours, aren't always recorded, so the chances of becoming embroiled in a scandal are arguably less likely.
But maybe most importantly, beauty influencers no longer need audiences to worship them, watching every clip they post across every social media platform. Instead, they just need us to stick around long enough to make a purchase.
