If you walk into a specific kind of coffee shop in the West Village or sit at a bar in Soho on a Tuesday afternoon, you’ll likely see someone scrolling through a lime-green-accented email. It’s not a corporate memo or a news alert from the Times. It’s Emily Sundberg’s Feed Me.
Honestly, the media landscape right now is a bit of a mess. Legacy publications are shrinking, and the middle-class journalist is becoming a rare species. Yet, Emily Sundberg has managed to build what she calls a "small media company" out of a Substack that started as a place for horror stories about girlbosses.
It’s weirdly addictive. One minute she’s talking about billionaire breakfast habits, and the next, she's breaking a story about a landmark NYC building that hasn't even hit the wire yet. It’s business news, but it feels like gossip. It’s cultural commentary, but with a balance sheet.
The Emily Sundberg Feed Me Strategy: How to Build a Modern Empire
People often ask why Emily Sundberg Feed Me works when so many other newsletters die after six months. The secret isn't just "good writing." It’s vigilance. Sundberg has mentioned that she stays "always online," which sounds exhausting, but it's what allows her to spot trends—like the "cultural dairy renaissance" or the rise of Zyn—long before the big consulting firms write their white papers.
Most business reporting is dry. It’s written by people in suits for people in suits. Sundberg flipped that. She writes for the "strivers and dealmakers" who care about where the money is moving but also want to know why everyone is suddenly obsessed with $18 martinis or "friction-maxxing" in 2026.
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Basically, she’s become the millennial Carrie Bradshaw of the creator economy. But instead of focusing on dating, she’s dissecting how capital flows through subcultures.
What Actually Happens Inside the Newsletter?
If you subscribe, you aren't just getting a link roundup. You're getting a specific worldview. Here is a rough look at what the daily rhythm looks like:
- Original Reporting: She doesn't just aggregate; she gets tips directly from people at hedge funds, retail brands, and tech giants.
- The Comment Section: This is where the real magic (and sometimes the chaos) happens. By putting comments behind a paywall, she created a high-signal community where the readers are often as influential as the writer.
- The Curation: A mix of LinkedIn updates, job postings, and obscure internet culture deep-dives.
She recently launched Expense Account, the first Feed Me podcast, marking a shift from a solo newsletter to a multi-platform brand. It’s a move that signals where the independent media world is heading in 2026: fewer massive outlets, more trusted individual voices.
Why Legacy Media Can't Replicate It
Large newsrooms have layers of editors and legal teams that—while important—often sanitize the "voice" out of a story. Sundberg doesn't have that problem. She can call out a "f***ing joke" of a writer's salary or discuss the collapse of a major magazine without needing a committee's approval.
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There's a level of intimacy here. She speaks to her readers in group chats and throws parties in Montauk or San Francisco. It’s not just "content"; it’s a network.
However, it’s not all sunshine and lime green branding. Operating as a one-person newsroom is famously lonely. In various interviews, she’s been candid about the pressure of hitting "send" by 11 a.m. every single day. There’s no backup. If she’s sick, the newsletter doesn't happen. Or, more likely, she just works through it.
The Business of Being a Creator
Financially, Emily Sundberg Feed Me is a powerhouse. With a subscriber base exceeding 50,000 and a high conversion rate to paid memberships (upwards of 10%), the revenue is significant. Add to that high-performing ads that readers actually click on because they trust her taste, and you have a business model that makes traditional digital media look ancient.
She’s also very clear about her "studio mindset." She doesn't just see herself as a writer; she’s a consultant, a director, and an entrepreneur. This multi-hyphenate approach is why she’s able to bridge the gap between "influence" and "journalism" without it feeling forced.
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The Future of Feed Me in 2026 and Beyond
As we move deeper into 2026, the "pivot to media company" is in full swing. We're seeing more non-newsletter projects, more live events, and a deeper dive into video. Sundberg has already teased a move away from just "launching a newsletter" toward something more structural.
If you're trying to understand where the culture is going—whether that's in the home space, the beverage industry, or the weird world of Gen Z masculinity—you kinda have to read her.
Next Steps for Your Own Media Diet:
If you want to understand how the "creator-led" media shift works in practice, start by looking at your own information intake. Are you reading people or institutions?
- Audit your subscriptions. Look for writers like Sundberg who provide "insider" access to specific subcultures rather than general news.
- Engagement over consumption. If you do join a community like the Feed Me paywall, actually participate in the comments. The value of these platforms in 2026 is the network, not just the text.
- Watch the pivot. Keep an eye on how individual creators are building "studios" around their personal brands. This is the blueprint for the next decade of media.
The era of the faceless publication isn't over, but it’s definitely being challenged by writers who aren't afraid to be a little too online.