OPINION Here’s what really went down at this year’s TikTok Awards

Wednesday night this week marked the annual TikTok Awards. Hosted at the ICC (sorry, the TikTok Entertainment Centre), approximately 4,000 influencers (sorry, content creators) gathered to collect their roses.

Naturally, we were there too, because as hard of a job as it truly is, someone does, in fact, have to do it.

Now, we could wrap this up by calling it a “night of nights”. That would almost guarantee us an invite back next year. But obviously, we’re not going to do that.

Here’s the tea…

Let’s start with the positives. The ceremony itself was unreal. Compared to last year (which low-key felt like an end-of-year school assembly we were obliged to attend), this year was actually entertaining.

Keli Holiday sung Dancing2 for the nth time this week, there was an ABBA tribute that genuinely brought us to tears, Abbie Chatfield played the bongos with The Wiggles, and Jonathan Bailey popped out of nowhere for a hot second. Overall, it was a solid 10/10.

But alas…that’s where the wins ended…

This year’s decision to move the Awards to the ICC makes it very clear TikTok wanted to go big. And according to the media release I’m currently staring at, they succeeded: it was officially the largest creator celebration in Australia’s history.

But as we all know, bigger doesn’t always mean better.

Let’s be real: it was overcrowded, chaotic, and the red carpet felt less like a media moment and more like one of those factory-style content warehouses popping up in Shenzhen.

(See below the vibe I’m feeling)…

No matter how you spin it, 50 journos and photographers on a 15-metre red carpet was never going to be able to service 4,000 attendees. Of course, the disorder didn’t just make it difficult for working media, it rubbed people the wrong way. And honestly, fair enough. People flew in for this. They paid for outfits, glam, the whole thing.

The result? In the politest terms possible: a total production breakdown. High-pressure scenarios like this also breed bad behaviour, which is exactly what we unfortunately saw Niiyell and so many other creators be on the receiving end of.

I’d really like to believe this situation could have been avoided with decent signage, respectful communication and better production logistics ahead of time. However, in light of many black content creators coming forward after the event, I also recognise that’s probably optimistic of me. At the end of the day, those are only band-aid fixes to a much bigger issue at play.

Off the red carpet…

Last year’s smaller ceremony meant TikTok could actually spend its budget on attendees. Nothing wild, just the occasional free seltzer and a few pizzas lobbed into the crowd. This year? Consider yourself blessed if you managed to secure a $15 cup of wine and a bag of chips from the vending machine.

It was very clear this was an event built for some creators. And if you weren’t on that shortlist, you were essentially a bum on a seat helping production claim a record-breaking attendance number.

Let’s be very clear: Wednesday night wasn’t influencers demanding too much. TikTok is a mega-platform making mega-money. In return, attendees deserve adequate catering, a chance to feel special, and at the bare minimum…basic respect.