When speaking on Camille Walker’s Call Me CEO podcast, Crumbl Cookies co-founder Jason McGowan said he did not expect his heavily frosted, large-scale cookies to find success outside of his home base of Utah. The local popularity of sweet treats like cookies is no accident, after all — 42% of the state‘s population are members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Its adherents, more popularly known as Mormons, do not drink alcohol or coffee and, subsequently, are known for high rates of sugar consumption.
But Crumbl has found popularity outside of LDS-heavy enclaves, and then some. Founded in 2017 by McGowan and Sawyer Hemsley, who have served in missions for the LDS church, Crumbl Cookies now counts more than 980 locations across the country and brings in more than $1 billion in annual sales. The franchise is especially popular among Gen-Z and Gen-Alpha consumers, who document the stores’ weekly flavor drops on TikTok. Crumbl did not respond to Glossy’s request for comment.
Crumbl Cookies is also just one of many aspects of Utahn Mormon culture to reach the mainstream zeitgeist in 2024. “The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives” debuted on Hulu in September — it stars Provo, Utah-based “MomTok” influencers like Taylor Frankie Paul, who has 4.9 million TikTok followers. The show clocked 729 million viewing minutes in its first week. Bravo’s “The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City,” which first premiered in 2020, reached a record 2 million viewers for its season 4 finale in January. Its cast includes both current and former members of the LDS church. So-called tradwife influencers like Utah-based Hannah Neeleman, a practicing LDS member better known as Ballerina Farm to her 9.8 million TikTok followers, have courted controversy and virality for promoting traditional gender roles.
And, potentially polarizing religious affiliations aside, beauty and fashion brands are seeing the financial opportunities in those Mormon-affiliated or adjacent figures.
“There’s sort of, for lack of a better idea, the flattening of the religion into some sort of aesthetic,” said Amy Cotteleer, chief experience officer and partner at advertising agency Duncan Channon. “But it doesn’t have these religious connections for [consumers] at all. It’s about this experience or aesthetic, or literally the taste.”
In July, Kylie Cosmetics teamed up with Crumbl Cookies on a limited-edition cookie box to promote its new blurring skin tint. In August, the cookie franchise launched a limited-edition purple sandwich cookie in promotion of Olivia Rodrigo’s Guts tour. TikTok star and model Nara Smith, whose marriage to model and LDS member Lucky Blue Smith has led many to speculate on her religious affiliation, has partnered with the likes of K-beauty brand Laneige and Marc Jacobs on sponsored social media posts. Others have started their own lifestyle brands: “Secret Lives” star Mayci Neeley is the founder of natal nutrition line Baby Mama. while Neeleman sells protein powder and rustic apparel under her Ballerina Farm brand.
But with that mainstream popularity also comes hesitation from those both in and outside of the LDS church about how cultural values like modesty and gender roles are portrayed by reality shows or MomTok influencers.
“The mainstream streaming channels and platforms are trying to almost exploit Mormonism, being like, ‘Oh, wow, look at this weird religion.’ But then the people who are on the shows are like, ‘No, guys — look, we’re normal,’” said Shelise Ann Sola, a former devout Mormon who hosts the YouTube channel Cults to Consciousness. “It’s this weird disconnect between active Mormons — people who really want to follow all the rules and wear the garments and be modest and not drink alcohol and not swear — and the ones who are kind of living on the fence.”
That dichotomy is at play in “Secret Lives,” where stars like Paul are shown having children out of wedlock, wearing revealing clothes and eschewing church guidelines around wearing Mormon temple garments on a daily basis.
“When people from strict cultures publicly post content that rebels against traditional values, it creates intrigue. It’s relatable beyond the Mormon community, as so many people have experienced tension with the values they were raised with,” said Megan Herren, strategy director at social media agency Movers+Shakers. “Gen Z highly values these creators’ transparency and relatability, affording them cultural influence.”
So-called tradwives like Neeleman and Smith, known for their polished aesthetics and idyllic family life, make for successful influencers, in part, because of their perfect outward image, however.
“[Mormonism] is selling an aspirational life,” said cults scholar Daniella Mestyanek Young, who chronicled her experience growing up in the Children of God cult in her book “Uncultured: A Memoir.” “America’s all been taught, a little bit, to want that aspirational life. We don’t want to give up our coffee or wine, but we want to have kids that are that respectful and we want to have wives that are that pretty.”
Shows like “Secret Lives” also give insight into how beauty culture intersects with Mormon culture. One episode shows MomTok member Jessi Ngatikaura as she gets ready for a labiaplasty. LDS members have cosmetic surgery at higher rates than average Americans.
But the beauty standards within the LDS church have also been damaging for some members, Sola said. “One thing that our guests talk about on our show is how hard it is to keep up with the perfection — how hard it is to maintain this facade of being the perfect wife, the perfect mother, the perfect daughter, the perfect everything. And that comes with making yourself look as beautiful as you can,” she said. “But then there’s also the side of, ‘But don’t look too hot, because then you’re going to look like you’re wanting attention.’”
While the LDS church has not explicitly addressed shows like “Secret Lives,” it issued a statement days before the show’s premiere criticizing recent cultural depictions of the church as misleading. Talise Hirschi, a graduate student at Brigham Young University and LDS member who has contributed to academic writing on the LDS church’s intersection with beauty culture, said cultural depictions don’t always accurately depict the church’s teachings.
“We’re imperfect people trying to live. And sometimes culture is not always fully representative of what our actual beliefs are,” said Hirschi. “We’re not taught that we’re supposed to be perfect right now, but it’s something that we’re working toward. However, I think some people internalize that, and they feel like they do have to be perfect right now, especially because society is always saying, ‘You need the perfect body.’”
The rising popularity of Mormon reality TV stars and influencers impacts the LDS church beyond public perception. LDS guidelines stipulate that members must tithe 10% of their salary to the church. The LDS church’s net worth was estimated to be around $265 billion as of 2023, making it one of the wealthiest religious institutions in the world.
According to some, the fact that Mormon culture has surged to mainstream prominence in 2024 is a reflection of broader cultural anxieties.
“Cults always pop up in times of social turmoil,” said Young, who stated that the LDS church meets mainstream definitions of a cult. “It’s because life is exhausting. Everybody under 40 right now has had national-level events going on every other month.”
And the influence of those reality stars and influencers is still percolating. One of the most popular accessories on “The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives” — which has already been renewed for 20 more episodes — is a large “dirty soda” from Utah-based soda franchise Swig, which, like Crumbl, is expanding across the country.
But whether or not following MomTok influencers means promoting a powerful religious institution is not necessarily of concern to many consumers.
“[Consumers] are going to enjoy the cookie, and they’re going to watch the program, and they’re going to tune in and see who she’s wearing while she’s making beef jerky from scratch,” said Cotteleer. “They’re not going to concern themselves because, to a certain extent, it’s escapism for the end user.”
