The business of influence in Lebanon

Influencer marketing, the practice of paying or partnering with social media personalities to promote a brand to their followers, has grown from a digital curiosity into a central component of corporate marketing budgets. What once relied largely on celebrity endorsements, television commercials and traditional advertising has increasingly shifted toward individuals who build their audiences online, turning personal platforms into powerful channels for brand visibility and consumer engagement.

In Lebanon, where word of mouth has long influenced what people eat, wear and buy, the strategy has found fertile ground. A recommendation from a familiar face, a product featured in an Instagram story or a restaurant showcased in a TikTok video can quickly translate into public attention and, in some cases, sales. As businesses navigate an increasingly competitive market and consumers spend more time online, influencers have become valuable intermediaries between brands and their audiences. Yet, as the industry expands, questions surrounding credibility, transparency, audience trust and the actual return on investment are becoming increasingly important.

The business

Patricia Hachem, a marketing consultant who has led influencer campaigns for companies across Lebanon and the Middle East, opened with a correction. “Brands do not buy posts,” she told The Beirutr. “They rent trust that a creator spent years building.”

She sorted influencers by tier. Nano and micro influencers, with followers in the thousands, deliver intimacy and higher engagement rates, meaning the share of followers who like, comment, or save. Macro influencers and celebrities deliver reach. “A restaurant opening usually needs five micro creators who live in that neighborhood,” she noted.

Food and beverage, she argued, remains the most fertile category. She pointed to the Glow Paradise collaboration with Nancy Ghmeid, which produced the Chic Taouk. “It works because the product carries the creator’s name,” she observed. “That is co-branding. The audience does not feel an advertisement. It feels like her recommendation in a sandwich.” Such partnerships typically rely on affiliate codes, unique discount codes that let a brand attribute each sale to a creator and calculate return on investment.

Fashion and beauty follow a similar playbook. Hachem cited MAC’s collection with Lebanese actress and singer Cyrine Abdelnour as a model of talent-led product design, and Nancy Ajram’s role as Tiffany & Co.’s first Arab brand ambassador, later extended through a campaign built around her summer single. “Luxury houses learned that a regional face localizes a global name,” she remarked. “It tells the Arab customer that this brand sees her.”

Her technical vocabulary was precise. She described seeding, where brands send free products hoping for organic posts, and user-generated content, where creators produce material a brand reuses in its own advertising. She also named whitelisting, which allows a brand to run paid ads through a creator’s account. “Every campaign needs measurable key performance indicators,” she insisted, “such as reach, cost per thousand impressions, click-through rate, and conversions.”

“Profit drives all of it,” she acknowledged. “Brands want sales, and creators want income. The danger arrives when disclosure disappears. Audiences punish anything that feels hidden.” Her advice for companies was to choose the creator whose audience already resembles your customer and let them speak in their own voice.

The mind

Simultaneously Dr. Raida Helou, a marketing psychologist who studies consumer behavior, explained the pull. “People follow influencers for the same reason they once trusted a neighbor’s advice,” she began. “We are social creatures, and we outsource decisions to people who seem to have already tested the world.”

She highlighted the parasocial relationship, a one-sided bond in which followers feel they know a creator personally. “You watch her morning routine, her kitchen, her tears,” she described. “Familiarity builds closeness, and closeness builds credibility, even though she has never met you.”

Social proof deepens the effect. “When thousands of people appear to love a restaurant, our brains read that as safety,” she elaborated. Meanwhile, the halo effect lets admiration for a creator’s looks or lifestyle spill onto everything she promotes.

Dr. Helou also addressed aspiration. “Social comparison is a very old instinct,” she explained. “We measure ourselves against others to decide who we want to become. Influencers present a curated version of that future, and buying what they use feels like a small step toward it.” Fear of missing out sharpens the urge, particularly among young Lebanese who watch peers travel, dine, and dress in real time.

She cautioned that the same mechanism carries a cost. “Constant exposure to polished lives can erode self-esteem and fuel impulsive spending,” she warned.

Awareness is the best protection. Ask yourself whether you want the product or the feeling attached to it.

Influencer marketing fuses two forces, a business model that monetizes attention and a human need to belong and aspire. Understanding both makes consumers harder to manipulate and brands more honest.