Martha Stewart paved the way for influencers. But not everyone finds her brand inspiring.

The new Netflix documentary Martha promises a look at her extraordinary life, from teen model to first female influencer to America’s first female self-made billionaire, with a stint in prison and a friendship with Snoop Dogg along the way.

Behind the artfully folded linens and immaculately set tables lies something more.

Martha Stewart created a brand empire that changed the way families lived, monetized it, and paved the way for others.

Beginnings and obstacles

Stewart’s association with domestic art began early.

Growing up in New Jersey, she learned basic homemaking skills such as cooking and sewing from her mother and was introduced to gardening by her father.

She studied art and architectural history, but Stewart began her career as a stockbroker. But her passion for home life led her to entrepreneurship.

As she once reflected, “the life of a housewife was more interesting to me than the life of Wall Street.”

In 1972, she opened a restaurant business in suburban Connecticut. He soon gained recognition for his elegant food presentations. A publisher’s client led her to the 1982 book “Entertainment.” It included notes on how to cook clams for 30 people, a cocktail party for 200 people, and the presentation was rated as highly as the food itself.

The book’s success cemented a partnership with Kmart in 1987 and eventually brought her home goods brand into millions of American homes.

By 1999, she took her company, Martha Stewart Living Omnimedia, public (which included her television shows, magazines, websites, and merchandising product lines), becoming America’s first female self-made billionaire, albeit briefly.

A few years later, Stewart was embroiled in scandal. She received a five-month prison sentence for insider trading and obstruction of justice. Many expected this to mark the end of her career, but Stewart defied the odds.

Opening up new horizons

After leaving prison, she did not shy away from her past. Instead, she continued to share skills, including those she honed during her time in the prison camp, whether crocheting or experimenting with new recipes. As always, Stewart took every opportunity to expand her brand.

Her genius lies in her ability to “sense the void in culture” and turn a personal approach into commercial success.

Since selling her eponymous brand, Stewart has remained in the spotlight, sometimes sharing it with rapper Snoop Dogg. The unlikely duo developed a seemingly genuine friendship that led to television series, speaking engagements and prison hijinks.

She continues to connect with millions of followers on platforms like Instagram and TikTok, where her lasting influence is perhaps most evident.

OG influencer

Stewart’s living legacy is unmistakable in today’s digital world. Scrolling through social media, you’ll find traces of her in carefully arranged desks or perfectly organized closets.

Popular “clean influencers” such as Mrs Hinch and Australian Mama Mila have amassed huge followings by turning household chores into visually engaging content.

A master of minimalism and neatness, Marie Kondo captivated the world with her philosophy of keeping only what “sparks joy.” Her global brand follows Stewart’s signature collectible model. Stewart’s clean, white aesthetic and multi-channel branding can also be seen in Gwyneth Paltrow’s Goop.

When housework is reframed as life-changing and transformative, it moves beyond a private duty and becomes a public, respected, and potentially profitable business.

But is this feminism?

However, the growing influence of influencers over the country’s way of life is also raising critical questions in feminist circles.

As far back as Simone de Beauvoir’s book The Second Sex, published in 1949, housework was seen as part of the trap of domestic femininity.

Figures like Stewart may represent success stories from an economic perspective. But their businesses risk reinforcing the stereotype that housekeeping is essentially a woman’s job, often accompanied by an ever-growing range of consumer products designed to improve it.

Stewart’s vision of home success—immaculate homes, immaculate dinners, and perfect organization—sets a standard unattainable by most. Scholars say her media empire represents an upper-class fantasy in which the appearance of a wealthy lifestyle outweighs its reality.

Focusing on family life is not inherently regressive, but what happens when the standards for success are too high to achieve?

The “solution” is often hidden in the trap of consumerism, where women endlessly buy products to live an idealized lifestyle.

Stewart’s perfectionism contributed to her success. According to her, “being a perfectionist can be beneficial.” However, for women and consumers, the desire for “Martha Stewartness” often seems unattainable.

Martha is streaming on Netflix starting today.

Di Yang, PhD student at the School of Economics, Finance and Marketing, RMIT University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.