Self-promotion was a dirty word. One hired professional humans to take care of the stroking of egos and the rubbing up of the right ways. Gallerists, art consultants, literary agents, PR gurus and lots of other clever and compliment-generous, but also refreshingly and brutally honest, experts were the driving forces behind the gargantuan successes of artists and writers, to name but a minuscule group of creatives, and without these promotional bulldogs (said breed never lets go until the job is done) these triumphs may never have been achieved.
But are these industry stalwarts still necessary in today’s F1equivalent, the dizzyingly-fast-evolving era of social media prowess?
Who hasn’t started a social media page in the hopes of becoming the next Brock O’Hurn (who knew that tying a man bun could bring you overnight über-fame) but then felt the sting of the slow, painful demise of their new passion project and ended up having to lick their wounds in silent defeat?
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