Millions of people see staying home and cleaning as their idea of a good time

Professional cleaner Ann Russell calls herself a “very middle class old English bag” with practical solutions (dust with a damp cloth not a dry one, for instance) and relatable household woes, such as tidying up after her rotund dog, Hollie, who sheds too much.

“Everything I possess is covered in Hollie hair,” Russell confesses.

In a big way, though, Russell is no ordinary cleaning pro. The bespectacled 59-year-old has millions of fans, who tune in for her daily social-media updates that offer advice ranging from what a prewash is to how to get rid of fake tan stains.

She’s racked up 2.5 million TikTok followers, written two books, and is being paid by the world’s biggest makers of cleaning products to tout their sprays and wipes.

“When times are uncertain people like to do things that allow them to exercise control,” Russell says of cleaning’s current appeal. “If you feel you can keep your home neat and tidy it makes you feel secure.”

TikTok says its “Cleantok” hashtag has amassed some-84 billion views—more than any other on the platform.

Hoping to ride this wave, consumer-goods giant Unilever
in June said it would pay more than 100 content creators (also known as “cleanfluencers”) to get more of its products such as Cif spray and Domestos toilet cleaner into videos on TikTok. Russell is among them.
“There’s a new breed of GenZs who see staying home and cleaning as the new going out,” the company said then.

Older fans are also soaking up the niche programming.
From her home in Yelm, Wash., 41-year-old Gretchen Barocio follows online cleaning star Jack Callaghan, who brings viewers along as he degreases the oven or scrubs the toilet. Barocio finds it calming.

“He uses the same products and follows the same routine,” says Barocio, a human-resources professional. “I like watching because it makes me feel like my life is organized.”

Cleaning videos can, for some watchers, elicit what is known as ASMR, or “autonomous sensory meridian response,” a tingling sensation often felt in the scalp and down the spine when hearing certain sounds.

The hum of a vacuum cleaner, the gentle hiss of spray paint, the soft whoosh of a brush and the peeling of masking tape are all amplified in a recent video as Callaghan, 28, tackles a damp patch of wall in his bathroom at home in Northern England.

Among top crowd-pleasers on TikTok are “Sunday resets,” showing people vacuuming and cleaning their entire homes, as well as closet-organizing clips, particularly ones showing a messy before and a pristine after.

Hacks are another big draw: such as scrubbing a couch with a cloth-wrapped saucepan lid, using dryer sheets to clean baseboards, and spraying shaving cream to remove makeup stains.

While Callaghan’s videos feature him tidying his own—already very tidy—apartment, Brandon Pleshek’s videos show heavy-duty cleaning jobs he does for others: super grimy showers, sticky floors and stained carpets.

“The joke is I was born with a Johnny mop and a vacuum in my hand,” says Pleshek, 34, whose grandparents started the cleaning company he now runs in Appleton, Wis.

He learned his best tip—neatly dusting fan blades by closing a pillowcase tightly around them and then pulling it off—from his grandma. Soon after the pandemic hit, he posted a seven-second TikTok video, demonstrating the technique using a pretty pink pillowcase, and put his phone down to eat dinner.

When he picked it up 20 minutes later it was blowing up with alerts and the video had a million views. “I touched my phone and it was like a slot machine going off,” says Pleshek.

Pleshek’s curly-haired grandma sometimes features in his videos, including when he cleaned her burned pot using vinegar and dish soap. “Whhhhoa” she says in the clip, which is overlaid with sentimental piano music. “I was going to throw that away!” The post has some 56 million views on YouTube.

“This is actually so adorable I’m crying,” wrote one viewer. Pleshek has 1.6 million followers on TikTok and companies pay him between $5,000 and $15,000 per post to feature their cleaning brands. Those deals often include an exclusivity clause barring the janitor from promoting rival brands for a certain period.

Some of his personal tips are basic but crafty: to keep sneakers smelling fresh, put two tablespoons of baking soda in a coffee filter, tie it with a rubber band and place inside.

In New Forest, England, Russell, the 59-year-old professional cleaner, is also something of an accidental influencer.

She joined TikTok just to keep tabs on her young niece. To avoid being “a creepy stalky aunt” she began putting up videos from her home and answering questions posed by other users. “It would seem rude not to,” she says.

Russell’s videos have an appealing homespun feel, her face filling the camera as she riffs.

“Many people going on Instagram and TikTok are presented with these unachievable images of these perfectly curated rooms,” she says. “I show my own home which has never got much cleaning done. I show it warts and all.” (Filming is occasionally interrupted by Hollie, who might bark at the wrong moment.)

Among Russell’s many tips: Use less detergent than brands recommend since, she says, it is better for clothes, the washing machine and your skin. Read the “dwell time” on the back of individual antibacterial sprays to determine when to wipe off, after spritzing, for maximum efficacy.

And an untested wild card: To figure out if a hotel bed has bed bugs, turn out the lights, quickly pull back the sheet and slap a damp piece of soap about—if there are bugs they will stick to it.

Russell also often does takedowns of trendy hacks, such as using a lemon to degrease an oven—she favors stainless steel scourers with dishwashing liquid—or, more bafflingly, using apple juice to clean the floor.

“If you’re trying to clean your floor with apple juice, you deserve absolutely everything you get!” she tells one hapless fan. “And what you get are ants. Lots and lots of ants.”

Trends

“Two key trends to emerge from the global pandemic were environmentalism and hyper hygiene,” Harnett says. “Shoppers are increasingly aware of the chemicals they use in their homes as well as the amount of plastic.”

It helps that the new-gen eco cleaners are Insta-friendly, too, in sleek packaging that can be left out, boasted and posted about. “A bottle of eco-friendly washing-up liquid sitting by their sink says, ‘I care about our planet’ to every guest,” says Wilton founder Sam Whigham.

Criticisms

But both the #ecocleaning and #cleantok trends have come in for sharp criticism, including accusations of greenwashing by some brands and that some cleanfluencers are giving out poor, even dangerous, advice. Microbiologists and poison control experts have spoken out about the perils of mixing certain chemicals together — advised in some #cleantok videos to get a better clean — such as bleach and vinegar, which can create chlorine gas.

Willingness

Last March, two academics published a paper in The Sociological Review arguing that cleanfluencers, the majority of them being young, married women, are repackaging housework in an aspirational way, promoting women’s willingness to participate in unpaid domestic labour.