Why I post the same product in two completely different ways

Names and identifying details have been changed.

I remember the day Sarah, my manager, looked at me like I had three heads. We were reviewing content for a new moisturizer campaign, a really nice, mid-range brand that wanted authentic, relatable coverage. I’d just shown her two completely different approaches for the same bottle. One was this super glossy, well-lit studio shot with soft, blurry bokeh and my hand artfully holding the product, nails impeccably manicured. The other was a selfie, taken in my bathroom mirror, hair a bit messy from just waking up, the moisturizer sitting on my slightly cluttered counter next to my toothbrush.

“Are you sure about this, Alex?” she asked, a slight furrow in her brows. “They’re… very different. Won’t it confuse my audience?”

I grinned. “That’s the point, Sarah. My audience isn't one person.”

It’s easy to fall into the trap of thinking your “niche” means everyone who follows you is exactly alike. We talk about personas and demographics all the time in marketing, and that’s important, but it’s sometimes oversimplified. My followers are all interested in beauty, sure. Some of them are aspiring luxury buyers, dreaming of that perfect skincare routine, the kind that looks like it belongs in a magazine. And some of them are just like me: juggling a busy life, trying to find products that actually work, and aren't afraid to show their real, unvarnished bathroom counter.

When I started out, I definitely aimed for that polished, aspirational vibe. I spent hours learning lighting, composition, editing. My feed was gorgeous, curated, almost untouchable. Brands loved it. But I started noticing something in my comments and DMs: a divide. Some people, bless their hearts, would comment things like, "Your bathroom is goals!" or "I wish my skin was that flawless!" And others would ask, "Does it really work as well when you're just, you know, a normal person?" or "Show us what it looks like before you put on the filter!"

That’s when it clicked for me. My audience wasn't a monolith. There were two distinct groups, and probably more, within my beauty-focused following. There were the dreamers, the ones who follow me for inspiration and the vision of what their beauty routine could be. They respond to the aspirational content, the carefully styled shots, the almost editorial feel. That's who I'm talking to with the perfectly lit hand holding the moisturizer, showing off the sleek packaging, hinting at a luxurious experience.

Then there are the realists, the pragmatists who want to know if this stuff fits into their actual, messy, everyday lives. They want to see the product in action, without the bells and whistles. They resonate with the bathroom mirror selfie, the slightly askew bottle, the relatable imperfection. For them, it’s about trust, authenticity, and knowing if a product can stand up to the rigors of a Monday morning. That’s who I'm talking to when I show the moisturizer next to my toothpaste, a bit of morning light streaming in, dark circles under my eyes. It's saying, "Hey, I'm just like you, and this is how this product fits into my real life."

It’s not disingenuous, by the way. I really do use the product both ways. Sometimes I take the time for a luxurious self-care moment, complete with essential oils and soft lighting. Other times, I slapped it on five minutes before a Zoom call because my face felt dry. Both experiences are real. My job, I realized, was to reflect both of those realities to the segments of my audience who craved them.

The metric that really convinced me of this approach was engagement. When I started experimenting with these dual approaches, I saw my overall engagement rates climb. Not just the likes, but the comments, the DMs, the shares. The aspirational posts continued to do well with their target segment, but the raw, unpolished posts started generating a whole new type of conversation. People were asking more specific questions, sharing their own similar experiences, building a deeper connection. It wasn't about choosing one style over the other; it was about embracing both.

Now, when a brand comes to me with a product, I think about how it can translate into these different user experiences. How does this fit into a dream scenario? How does it fit into a "just trying to get through the day" scenario? It allows for a richer, more nuanced storytelling that ultimately serves both my audience and the brand better. It's about knowing your people, all of them, and speaking to their diverse needs and desires, even for the exact same product.