The shift from following to knowing
Why the people you've admired are suddenly more compelling than ever.
I was a guest on a podcast this week and got asked a standard question: What’s your favorite recent read?
My answer wasn’t a book, or an essay, or something I could physically put on a shelf. It was Substack.
Just… Substack.
And as soon as I said it out loud, I knew exactly why.
Because what’s happening here right now feels less like consuming content and more like sitting at a dinner table with someone you’ve admired from afar for years, finally getting a chance to hear them talk. No wonder the medium is taking off!
For a long time, our inspiration from people was limited to mostly visual. Tiny squares showing us glimpses of how others moved through the world, their style, and the corners of their homes. Instagram gave us that. You could admire, double-tap, save, and keep scrolling. And for a long time, that was enough. We didn’t even know we wanted more.
But Substack changed that.
Now we don’t just see what people wear or buy or how they decorate their personal spaces. We get to see how they make decisions. How they reason annd unpack tension. How they put words to the things they care about.
Some pieces are short and punchy. Others might wander longer like an essay. And sometimes you get a glimpse of someone who is certain one week and questioning something the next. That honesty and variability is what makes it feel real. It’s what makes it feel like we’re actually getting to know each other.
From the conversations I’m having with people, it’s clear we aren’t looking for more perfection. We’re craving proximity. Good-old-fashioned connection and conversation that matters. We want to understand how someone thinks and learn from them, not just what they recommend or how they live. We want the context and the substance. A point of view that matters because we’ve seen the person giving it has been living intentionally.
And that’s why the moment someone you’ve followed on Instagram for years launches a Substack, there’s that immediate pull to follow. That little jolt: Wait, now I get to know you?
It’s the same feeling as finally being looped into a conversation you’ve been on the edge of noticing for months. Or when that outfit you’ve saved a dozen times finally has the LTK link attached. Phew! You’re in. Behind-the-curtain information is gold. And Substack is that, at a scale we weren’t really even asking for, for people we’ve admired from afar. Or even getting to know now for the first time.
Take Noted by Anouk Yve, for example. Millions of followers on IG, Impeccable taste that is unapologetically hers. That perfectly lived-in yet polished energy so many women aspire to conquer. Admiring her from afar, and what she wore on the outside, was more than enough for me. But now, through her Substack, she shares what’s inside: how she reasons, the discipline it takes to trust herself in a world that’s constantly trying to sell something else, the push and pull of influence, the effort to maintain taste and joy even when the world is loud and performative. Seeing inside her headspace, however much she chooses to share, makes her even more compelling.
On a smaller, more personal scale, there’s Madeline Nachbar, someone I’ve loved to follow since my 2017 Minneapolis days. Always impeccable style, often captured in a bedroom mirror selfie and paired with a sharp, understated wit. Instagram gave glimpses into this, just enough to know there was depth there. Substack pulls the curtain back further. Now there’s humor and honesty along with taste and thinking at a deeper level, all at a frequency you can actually get to know. It’s like finally sitting across from someone you’ve always known you’d like.
That duality: the visuals paired with the freedom to put them into words, without character-count limits, pulls us closer. We don’t just see what people like. We get to understand why they care. What they’re paying attention to. What they’re still figuring out.
And here’s the part that matters most to me: Substack doesn’t just change the reader. It changes the writer.
Being here is an opt-in. You can’t really hide…. or at least, you shouldn’t.
Creating a Substack means saying yes to pulling back the curtain and sharing the interior, the thinking. The things you care about enough to put into sentences. You’re committing to paying attention and explaining it out loud. Not in a messy, oversharing way, or in a performative way. Just in your own way. Just enough to be yours.
So I’m here. At the table. Pulling up a chair. Sharing what I notice, what I’m inspired by, and what I’m questioning.
Not to impress or to perform. But simply because this feels like a conversation I want to join.
Cheers!
Meg
@Madeline Nachbar // @Noted by Anouk Yve
Loved this read! One of the main reasons I started a Substack was to truly connect. On platforms like Instagram, especially when your work centers around style, it’s easy to feel misunderstood—or for your content to be dismissed as trivial in the context of everything happening in the world.
What I appreciate so much here is the chance to step inside one another’s minds. It feels like a more thoughtful, less judgmental space to share ideas and creative process. I’m genuinely so honored to be mentioned in your thoughtful words—thank you!