Why bizarre creators like "Bread Face" will never go out of style

Before the fashion/foodfluencer-hybrids of today, we had Bread Face.

In 2015, an anonymous woman pressed her face into a Martin’s potato roll to Fetty Wap’s "Trap Queen". Ten years down the line, Bread Face has become a digital fixture, a decade-long commitment to one of the most hypnotic and inexplicable acts to grace our feeds.

Despite the mechanism of her fame (literally smashing her face into baked goods), Bread Face has outlasted the usual internet life cycle of viral one-hit wonders. She’s still here, still posting (albeit less frequently), and still captivating. But why? And what can brands, marketers, and digital creators learn from the woman who turned carbohydrate collisions into an art form?

The internet loves the bizarre, the hyper-specific, the why does this exist of it all.

Bread Face embodies the kind of absurdity that initially confuses, then fascinates. Before you know it—you’re invested.

Her content works because it operates on two levels. On one hand, it’s pure sensory satisfaction (the softness of the bread, the gentle indentation of her face). On the other, it’s completely irrational. It doesn’t mean anything, which somehow makes it more compelling. Absurdity thrives because it leaves room for interpretation. Bread Face can be whatever you want it to be.

Bread Face has pulled off something quite rare: fame without recognition. At a time when personal branding is currency, she’s removed herself from the equation. There’s no real personality behind the bread—just a visual, a ritual, a presence.

And that works.

It’s the same reason we’re drawn to faceless creators like Corpse Husband, Banksy, Daft Punk, or MF DOOM. Anonymity builds intrigue. It lets the content speak for itself. In an era of overexposure, when every influencer is one bad day away from a PR disaster, Bread Face’s lack of personal narrative keeps her free from the usual pitfalls.

Most viral sensations burn bright and fast, their relevance evaporating the second they try to capitalise on their moment. Bread Face, on the other hand, has played the long game.

She’s never overproduced. Never overshared. Never turned her niche into a desperate cash grab.

She posts less frequently, yes. But with each post comes a reminder that Bread Face is still here. And that’s the key—pacing. Staying relevant isn’t about constant output; it’s about knowing when to remind people why they cared in the first place.

At first glance, Bread Face looks like another bizarre social media stunt. But after nearly ten years, it’s clear this isn’t just a bit. It’s an ongoing, carefully curated project. The music choices, the aesthetic, the unwavering commitment to the act itself—there’s an argument to be made that Bread Face isn’t just an internet oddity but a legitimate performance artist.

If Marina Abramović’s The Artist Is Present is about endurance and human connection, Bread Face is about transformation. Something as mundane as bread can become hypnotic, sensual, even surreal. And the internet might have laughed at first, but longevity has a way of shifting perception.

What brands can learn from Bread Face.

Despite the temptation, Bread Face has never over-monetised. She’s done some brand partnerships, sure, but never at the expense of the mystery. The best collaborations have felt seamless, not forced—a rare achievement. So, what does that tell us? Brands should understand that mystery is a commodity.

Not everything needs to be explained, and over-saturation kills intrigue. Sometimes, the best strategy is to create something so compelling that people need to talk about it. Bread Face didn’t chase virality. She created a space where it could happen naturally. And nearly a decade later, we’re still watching.

You may think we’ve all ruined our attention spans. But Bread Face reminds us that there is life after brain rot. And sometimes all you need is commitment to the bit, to your bit, to stay relevant.

-Sophie, Writer