Here we go again—another scroll through the feed that feels more like a casting call than a property tour. Diving straight into the deep end because some realtors still think the key to closing is looking like they belong on a subscription service.
Big believer in using what the good Lord gave you—your market knowledge, your negotiation chops, that sixth sense for when a buyer’s about to bolt. But this? This is real estate, not OnlyFans. We’re not here to monetize thirst traps; we’re here to move square footage. Yet the poses keep coming, each one more predictable than the last.
Exhibit A: the eternal kitchen counter coronation. Perched up there like it’s a throne, legs crossed, venti in one hand, designer bag in the other, staring down the camera with that “I could be sipping this in the Maldives, but instead I’m blessing your listing” smirk. Because nothing says “trust me with your largest financial transaction” like using the seller’s granite as a personal runway.
It’s not just one rogue agent—it’s an entire genre. Next scene: the doorway lean. Head tilted, soft smile, one hand on the frame like they’re about to whisper sweet nothings to the molding. Buyers aren’t here for romance novels; they’re here to see if the roof leaks.
Then we’ve got the poolside power move. Clipboard in hand, feet dangling in crystal-clear water (shoes off, naturally), because who needs to discuss flood zones when you can look effortlessly glamorous?
The driveway boss stance—hands on hips, chin up, staring down the lens like you’re about to negotiate world peace instead of a 3% commission.
And the couch conquerors. Sprawled across the seller’s sectional like it’s happy hour at your place, not an open house. Make yourself at home? Sure, but maybe not literally in someone else’s furniture while the owners are still packing boxes.
Twisted truth: if your headshots and reels are getting more engagement than your actual deals, maybe pivot to content creation full-time. The rest of us will keep grinding with facts, follow-ups, and the occasional well-timed sarcasm. Because in this market, the only fans that matter are the ones who actually sign the contract.
Keep the countertops for cooking, not content.
Brad Wilson, Broker