Are my gen X peers the influencers the world has been waiting for? | Emma Beddington

Their careers are peaking, they’re rich in money and time, and young people think they’re cool. But maybe it’s not as simple as that

‘S top sleeping on gen X.” I heard this on TikTok recently. I misinterpreted it, with a guilty start, as: “Stop sleeping, gen X,” because I am 51 (peak X), so always tired; while not sleeping at the time, I may have been resting my eyes. In fact, Joel Marlinarson, a marketing guru , was suggesting my generation have become a powerful, if underrated, force online.

Aged between 46 and 61, gen Xers with proper jobs are peaking, career-wise (although it’s a different story for those out of work, as a report last month on the struggles of over-50s jobseekers made plain). We’re more likely to own homes than the following generations ; we’re emerging from the trenches of childrearing and, the argument goes, ready to indulge in some me-time. “If gen X were a country, it would be the world’s second-largest consumer market,” the World Economic Forum reported last year , with gen X women in particular influencing 70% to 80% of all consumer spending.

That makes us great customers, witness the tidal wave of menopause-washed wellness guff (Which? reported last month that many pricey supplements were no better than a cheap multivitamin ) and beauty brands for people suddenly horrified by their necks . But does it give us content-creating clout? We’re supposed to be (or at least meme lore presents us as ) the forgotten generation, low-key, countercultural slackers on the sidelines in the grudge match between millennials and boomers; aspiration and self-promotion aren’t really part of our brand.

Sure, kids are scrambling for Oasis tickets and rediscovering zines ; US Vogue called us “the cool ones” and the New York Times went further with “the greatest generation”. I get the argument that it’s our time to shine. But real gen Xers have a lot on their plate and it doesn’t necessarily lend itself to fun, aspirational content.

Being peak career means peak responsibility: our parents are faltering (I’m writing this as my mother-in-law is moving into sheltered accommodation) and our kids are facing awful geopolitical and economic prospects that undermine their mental health and chances of independence. We’re falling apart physically: for women, the sorting hat of perimenopause doles out a set of grim symptoms, while men are wondering what will fell them next, heart, stomach, back or knees? Who wants to hear about that? And who can be arsed to make perky TikToks?

I’ll tell you who: Kathryn Turner . I was introduced to Turner, M&S Food’s director of product development, by Marlinarson, for whom she is evidence that over-50s employees are “ the next biggest influencers ”. Turner, a cheery woman in smart trousers who exudes quiet competence, has worked for M&S since 1995. She launched her account in May, but her TikToks already garner up to 2m views and her nearly 250,000 fans are devoted: “Would follow that woman into war,” commented one . “Why did we give Andy Burnham the job over her,” asked another . “ I love you Kathryn turner [sic],” wrote an account claiming to be the Heartstopper actor Joe Locke . I love her, too: Turner’s calm sunniness, as she talks viewers through innovations in the picky bits space, is a balm in a fractious world.

Turner isn’t Kate Moss, Miranda July or any of the other impossibly glamorous gen X figureheads, she seems like a normal, middle-aged woman who knows her stuff and does it well. I love that she’s popping up on TikTok and I get it, I’m projecting, but I bet Turner’s great in a crisis, her desk drawer and handbag well stocked with protein-rich treats, blister plasters and ibuprofen.

Maybe this is our online USP. Could watching grownups quietly bossing their busy, complex lives be the next ASMR? Because, mostly, gen X aren’t the “cool ones”: they’re the knackered ones, dealing with life, death, work and frozen shoulders. I don’t know any Mosses or Chloë Sevignys, but I know lots of Turners and I, too, would follow them into war, or at least get a dopamine hit from watching them be extremely competent in short-form videos. No one would want to watch me staring at a screen then breaking to fold some pants, obviously, but I’d love to see more of my capable peers ditch the self-deprecation (very gen X) and shine online.