MRS HINCH: EXPOSED! PART 2

Welcome back to our 2 part exposé of the Zo-fraud-a herself, Mrs Hinch. Where were we? Are yes, our findings…

WE LIKE TO BE IN CONTROL WHERE WE CAN.

In a time where everything seems out of our control, we have a tendency to turn inwards. We spend more time at home (government enforced or otherwise). We retreat to the comfort of our homes. We switch clubbing for cleaning. As a result, we’re more house proud than ever (particularly as half the office is now virtually traipsing round our gaffs thanks to those incessant  Zoom meetings).

What Mrs Hinch has hit on, while it’s probably something we already knew, is super important. Tidy room, tidy mind. We’ve always known we feel stressed and ashamed when our homes aren’t clean, so promoting the benefits to mental wellbeing through cleaning has definitely hit home.

Look at the cleaning product ads we’ve been served our whole lives. As sterile as the surfaces they leave behind. Mrs Hinch is shining a light on some of the unseen, or unrecognised, parts of cleaning, such how it can aid how people feel on the inside. 

As The Drum reported: ‘Her content consists of encouraging people to clean away their blues or even just to gather the motivation to complete one small, but effective task that will bring with it that sense of achievement – the sort we all feel from changing our bedsheets or flipping those diffuser stick things in the loo.’ 

She’s even charmed that bastion of fastidious female opinion – no, not the Women’s Equality Party. Far more militant. Mumsnet. Anyone asked her how she’d solve this Corona thing yet…?

YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE AN EXPERT FOR PEOPLE TO LISTEN TO YOU.

She’s glamorous, yet down-to-earth; she has flawlessly blow-dried long hair, yet she buys her cleaning product bargains at budget stores. She is fully made-up, but highly relatable. She’s beautiful, but she doesn’t even show her face on Instagram. While many influencers would have bought a huge mansion by now and upgraded to a life their followers could only dream of instead of truly relate to, Mrs Hinch has tried her very best to keep her life as normal as possible.

This is probably why 60% of people who have heard of her say they’d buy something purely on her recommendation.

The majority of her work operates through brand ambassadorships with key partners on a long term basis, to maintain integrity and avoid over-saturation. Her popularity is based on her recommendation and demonstration of products, rather than routines and individual cleaning companies, as in the case of other less-successful influencers. The fact that she does not accept money for promoting these products is an important mark of impartiality.

SHE TAKES THE MUNDANE AND MAKES IT MAGICAL.

She has names and personalities for her tools of tidy.

There’s ‘Minkeh’ her antibacterial cleaning pad, the Minky M Cloth. Shelly the Shark (hoover), and Cliff the Cif. It all makes sense once you follow Mrs Hinch, but explaining it to a ‘non believer’ makes you sound nuts. Instead of saying she’s cleaning her toilet, she says she’s “pining” it. No not pining for it, like a Pythonian Parrot, but using pine scented disinfectant. 

Naturally, when they’re off duty, they play together in a mythical cupboard she calls ‘Narnia’.

TO CONCLUDE.

She’s entirely mad. And infuriatingly good at… being herself. 

She’s knowledgeable, helpful, unique, authentic, wholesome and trustworthy. 

That potent combination is what makes her such a valuable commodity, and probably means this whole article has been utterly pointless. Sorry P&G, you can’t bottle this level of authenticity and suckle a cartoon bathroom-cleaning duck to life on it.

I should’ve just listened to my sister, who, when I told her I was writing this article, sighed wearily and said, ‘Just… don’t try and understand her’. 

Back to dissecting the merits of showing people rotting versions of their food I guess.