Photo by Dylan Wells/For The Washington Post
Greg Marzinsky, 30, who posts under the handle @gregory.nyc, has built a distinctive online aesthetic of moody, cinematic shots of the streets of New York City — nearly always set to a Taylor Swift song.
He’s what’s known as a “faceless” creator. Until recent weeks, Marzinsky never appeared in front of the camera, and had posted only a singular, black and white profile photo in his four years posting under the handle @gregory.nyc. Still, he’s reached a high level of popularity and fandom, with more than half a million TikTok followers who developed such a deep parasocial relationship with him that he’s now facing unique challenges to grow his creative outlet into a business.
I spoke with Marzinsky (on the streets of the West Village) about how he built a distinctive visual identity online, the challenges of monetizing and getting brand deals as a faceless creator, and the inflection point he’s at now as he weighs sharing more of himself online.
“The amount of followers I got for not being a face has been astonishing. But also at the same time, it's recently become kind of a problem, because people think I'm not a real person or I'm Taylor Swift herself,” he said.
Fans have developed a Swift-like obsession with his work. Users post about being “Gregged,” often while crying. There are fan videos about being a #gregholic, and POV videos of “your camera roll if you were dating greg.” He’s drawn imitators (like DC’s “Paul”) in different cities and landscapes around the world, leading to questions of whether the copycats, or Greg himself, are AI. Even videos by other creators set to music by other artists are inundated by comments like “Greg core” or “Greg would be proud,” or “Greg got relatives” and “You're not my regular guy but I'll allow it.” More uplifting videos made in the same style are plagued with feedback like “Greg if he wasn’t doom and despair” and “greg (healed version).”
Some have even speculated if Greg is a guerilla marketing campaign orchestrated by Swift or her management, or her own secret burner account (he says he has never been in contact with her or her team).
Greg’s content origins and aesthetic: Marzinsky’s background is in the digital health space, and he now works in freelance marketing. His first TikToks in 2022 were set to trending sounds, which he described as “all over the place” — though even the early posts feature his signature dark and moody cinematography. He credits his Swiftie status and growing up watching New York City daily vlogs as inspiring his niche, which he views as “an audio visual experience.”
“I'm observing people, and they're kind of like characters in the story I'm envisioning … people in the reflection of a window, they're picking up a glass, a martini, the flickering of the candles, it reminds me of a song,” he said.
Many of his most popular videos are filmed at night in the rain, which he believes leads to “a narrative ambiguity” much like Swift’s songs. He does not stage shots, but he will film “ephemeral” moments and detailed close-ups as he walks around the neighborhood and piece them together to a song he’s listening to.
“People know when I have a hyperfixation on a song. I kept using this song ‘Ruin the Friendship (My Advice Version)’ and people [were] like, ‘Are you trying to send a signal to somebody?’” he said.
Creator versus influencer: Earlier this summer social media users became focused on Marzinsky himself and the “Greg” persona. At first, he took all of the commentary as a sign that people hated him, but once he realized it was positive feedback, he leaned into being more of a creator himself — like responding to as many comments as possible.
That’s been an odd transition for someone who set out wanting to be anonymous and for his content to be focused on what he observes, not himself. Many of his friends have been surprised to discover he’s behind the account.
“I try to be more of a creative than a creator,” Marzinsky said. But now he feels pressure to show more of himself — particularly when he sees rumors taking off online, like that he is AI or that he’s a middle-aged man trying to cater to a younger audience. Still, he said he worries doing so will take away from his videos or make it harder for people to interpret them in their own way.
Monetizing and collabs: Being a somewhat-anonymous creator has presented a challenge for monetization. Brand deals with faceless creators are less common, but he said he can imagine making a video with a musical artist or the cast of a movie making a surprise appearance walking by in one of his videos or an artistic fashion feature. He said he was in the TikTok creator rewards program to monetize his views but was disqualified and removed.
He doesn’t have talent management and has yet to be offered a brand deal, though he did secure his first invite as a creator after making a public appeal about his interest in working with a brand to attend the U.S. Open. On Thursday he will attend the women’s semifinals with Lavazza, who invited him after seeing the plea.
“Some comments are like, ‘you must be making millions off of that,’” he said of his videos that frequently get millions of views. “No, I’m making zero dollars.”
This story is part of Verified, a newsletter that is published by Washington Post Creator, a team outside The Washington Post’s newsroom that is focused on the creator economy and content partnerships with independent creators. Learn more about Washington Post Creator.
