Flip is filled with videos that are as impactful as if they were made by aliens. They follow the familiar beat of sponsored content that populates TikTok or Instagram, but something is always a little off — as if the creator is imitating a video they once watched from memory, selling a mushroom-shaped lamp.
The first: an out-of-focus video of a bottle of shampoo, with the camera shaking as the user tries to get a good angle in a dark room. Then someone ripped open the packaging of a kitchen storage jar and their home address was clearly visible on the label. After a few swipes, a faceless woman quietly stroked her long brown hair, apparently endorsing a hair-strengthening product, though it wasn’t entirely clear exactly as she didn’t say anything. The goal of these videos is to entice viewers to purchase whatever product is “reviewed” in the video.
Flip is a short, vertical app whose video origins are a 2020s QVC nightmare, as if a bunch of teenagers started an influencer marketing agency where brand safety wasn’t really a concept. It doesn’t matter what’s in these videos, as long as the product being reviewed is linked below. Flip wants content, and users are happy to play influencer for a day. The whole experience of watching these videos is awkward and a little surreal, a far cry from the polished videos on YouTube or Instagram, but in some ways, Flip also feels like a harbinger of social videos to come.
The app would be similar to TikTok if it were filled only with ads for shoppable products from direct-to-consumer brands. The startup has raised $95 million and is investing in a growth plan that will give new users $30 to more than $100 in credits when they join through referrals from friends. It’s an old tactic: An influx of venture capital subsidizes a deal that seems too good to be true and gets users hooked on a service or product. Flip recommended “money” can be used to pay for up to 95% of purchases.
My goal is to get as many shopping points as possible from the app
Flip bills itself as a “social network for shopping,” but so far it seems to be mostly Gen Z’s version of a Tupperware party. Once people use the app, they can try to monetize their purchases by reviewing products and earning affiliate revenue. This is called the “Maker Economy on Steroids,” a vision in which every shopper is both a customer and a salesperson.
“[Flip is] For everyone who understands that shopping is not just about getting, but about coming together,” the company’s website says. But not for me.My goal is to squeeze as many shopping points out of the app as quickly as possible and write it down edge. I posted a post on Instagram asking friends who would be willing to be guinea pigs, and dozens of people volunteered.
Judging from the videos uploaded to Flip, I’m not the only one aiming to make fake money online through speedrunning. The app will give you some cash up front if you can convince people you know to join — but it also lets you monetize the time you spend on the app by watching videos, creating endless tiny incentives. to allow you to click and view ads.
Within two days of downloading Flip, I accumulated about $300 by inviting friends, who then went on to buy something. Over the course of about a week, I earned another $50 in points by scrolling through endless review videos, 8 cents here, 50 cents there. Creators earn real money by reviewing products they purchase, and they accrue a few cents when someone watches their videos or purchases the advertised product. This is gamification of online content creation to the extreme.
I used referral codes to buy a few products I saw on my feed through videos reviewed by strangers: a pack of gel eye masks I saw on TikTok, a $29.99 pack of protein powder, a “face steamer” , Men’s button down shirt, Kodak 35 mm film scanner. With the 95% off coupon, nothing will cost more than about $10. I would be surprised if something like these products showed up on my doorstep. Then I waited.
Flip lets anyone play the role of an influencer. You can pretend you’re a beauty expert by testing products straight from the packaging, or you can pretend you’re an ASMR unboxing creator by silently cutting open package after package. Where upstart influencers have to go out and get sponsorships or brand deals, or negotiate with marketing departments, Flip users can spend two seconds talking about a lip gloss they bought but haven’t tried yet and make money without an intermediary.
The film doesn’t have to be good—it doesn’t even have to be relevant. Say what you will about influencers, but they must at least build a brand and earn a little trust from their audience. They need some sort of character, even if it’s one of the few predictable archetypes. For people with boring personalities, the most basic requirement is that the photos and videos look good. Flip users – Flippers? Flip? Flip-flops? — Skip all that.
Flip CEO and founder Noor Agha thinks this is a good thing. Agha, who smoked throughout our call and peppered me with questions about my own experience on the app, envisioned an entertaining shopping experience in which you See friends, not internet celebrities, talk candidly about their purchases.
“I generally think that the influencer ecosystem that sells you stuff is not [on the rise],” Aga said. “I think authenticity online is really painful, [for] Anything real, unscripted, unfiltered a thousand times. ” Agha believes that people don’t want to keep buying paid-for products that claim every camera, pillowcase, or teeth-whitening strip is amazing, outstanding, and a must-buy. They want unscripted, real people talking about the product, even if it sometimes seems very Awkward.
Commenting comes more naturally than you think – I’ve probably spent hundreds of hours watching influencers do similar unboxings, reviews, and fittings. I’ve internalized this format: the fast, relevant editing style, the “influencer voice” intonation, and the overwrought facial expressions. Although Flip encourages “honest and authentic” content, there’s an obvious tension here: When people buy something from your videos, you make money. Agha said commissions range from 10% to 40% of the item’s purchase price, depending on the category. He also told me that most of Flip creator spending is on video viewing rather than purchases—you don’t have to make any sales to make money.
The commenter’s feet are on a coffee table with a water gun about two feet tall surrounded by whippet cans
As a result of the melee, much of the content shared has an off-brand quality: low-resolution editing, poorly executed editing, or poor lighting. Sometimes, these comments are vulgar and brands often don’t want to be associated with them, which makes me question what kind of censorship is happening on Flip. (Agha said Flip uses a machine learning system and a team of about eight human moderators to only look for abusive and hateful content—reviewers can be as negative about the products they want, including criticizing Flip itself.)
In a review of the sock, the wearer’s feet were placed on a coffee table with a water gun about two feet tall and surrounded by canisters of whip or nitrous oxide, which can be fatal when abused. To do this, creators will make money based on factors such as views and sales, and brands will pay Flip every time someone makes a purchase through the platform. Do companies know that part of their marketing budget will be used for this purpose? Cozy Earth, the company that makes the socks, did not respond to a request for comment.
The most confusing part of the app is the men’s fashion category: In a video of a pair of shorts, a man is dressed like an old-school bank robber or a mall goth, with deep black circles around his eyes. “The all-around comfort, it’s unbelievable, especially on the bag,” he said, gesturing to the area. “I really like how you can see the outline of my fucking testicles.” Someone laughs silently off camera, indicating that this is an obvious troll.
In another video, only a few seconds long, two people who appear to be teenagers are posting about body care products such as lotions and scrubs. “Hello everyone! Welcome to our next review…” Before he finished speaking, the video ended suddenly. It has 3,000 likes and 39,000 views.
flipping is not pleasure, That’s true, but it illustrates the shift happening in short-form content more clearly than its biggest competitors like Instagram Reels, YouTube Shorts or TikTok. These platforms and their star creators run on advertising. They are driven by you, the viewer, seeing something, wanting it, clicking on it, and maybe even buying it.
If you buy a camera or lipstick directly from the platform, the platform can make a lot of money
Ads used to be sandwiched between content you actually wanted to see: your friends’ vacation photos, breaking news, your favorite pop star’s album announcement. Now, the content itself is advertising—and often little, if any, of this financial relationship is disclosed. Our feeds quickly became filled with creative product placement, paid reviews, and other content designed to sell merchandise. The platforms that provide this content can make a lot of money if you buy a camera, lamp, or lipstick directly from these platforms.
This e-commerce element is becoming increasingly evident across platforms. TikTok is currently devoting significant resources to making this possible through its in-app feature called TikTok Shop. Bloomberg Reports say the company hopes to sell $17.5 billion worth of products in the United States this year. Shopping buttons are even starting to appear on TikTok content shared by non-influencers: In January, TikTok began testing a feature that automatically identifies and inserts shopping links in videos. To some extent, the film is just a vehicle for sales. I almost admire the Flip because it breaks up the look.
There’s a similar program on TikTok called Creative Challenge that allows users to create ads to spec for a chance to make money – but even these clips are chosen by brands. At the same time, Flip doesn’t have a review process; I know that because I tried it.
When my packages started arriving, I was surprised to find the right stuff showing up on my doorstep, usually shipped from the brand itself. The glass candle jar arrived in perfect condition; the facial steamer seemed too hot to get close to my face, but it worked. Obviously, my next task is to record product reviews – is it really as easy as it seems to scrape together a few bucks? The best way to understand is to find out for yourself. Hunter S. Thompson, who hung around the Hells Angels for his coverage, was eventually violently beaten by members of the group after an argument. I would create mind-numbing affiliate marketing videos with minimal editing that amounted to just for the sake of checking, except the checking was hypothetical. The rise in fake numbers showed that I was making fake money through fake “real” content that no one would believe.
After unboxing, I recorded a video of the unopened protein powder bag. I “recommend” this product but obviously haven’t used it yet. From 738 views and two people putting it in their cart, I made $1.68. In the follow-up video, I made a smoothie with what I described as a “terribly bad” powder and netted $2.55 (I didn’t cash out my earnings). No one has any reason to trust me, or anyone else who makes videos on the platform – but then again, people seem to be hungry for someone these days, even strangers, to tell them what to buy and what to do.
There’s a lot of money to be made by convincing others of your taste – but so far, as I expected, I haven’t influenced anyone. It didn’t matter that no one bought my video, though: the important metric wasn’t whether I was a good salesperson, but whether I was willing to try. In order to cash out my influencer earnings, I need to hit $20. As of today, I’ve made $13.92.
