My fascination with the US started young, as I think it does for many people. American TV, films and celebrities were a firm part of my childhood. The country seemed glossy and exciting, and despite its similarities with the UK, distinctly different.
So, when the opportunity arose during my second year at the University of Edinburgh to study abroad, seeing the University of California on the list was enough to persuade me - California was the epicentre of coolness in my eyes.
UCSB’s famously lively social scene certainly appealed to me, but the academic opportunity was just as exciting. Learning felt relaxed but engaging; it was quite a contrast to studying inside an Edinburgh building that was several centuries older than the UCSB campus.
The social side was even more memorable. Californians, in my experience, are “good-time people”. Admittedly, I was immersed in the full college experience: I lived in a house of 15 people by the beach, cycled everywhere, swam between classes and travelled to Los Angeles, San Francisco and Lake Tahoe.
I experienced Friendsgiving and Thanksgiving, spent the Fourth of July at Lake Tahoe, rode on the back of a Harley-Davidson in Northern California and played paintball on the beach. I attended basketball games and huge fraternity events with $5k budgets, and watched 18-year-olds drive around in pink Teslas with the roof down.
It was completely unlike my life in the UK. Every day felt like a pinch-me moment.
What California taught me about American Culture
During that year, I began noticing the cultural differences that only become apparent once you spend significant time somewhere. The Americans I met tended to be direct, open and unapologetically enthusiastic. Compared with the British instinct to soften opinions, downplay excitement or hide behind politeness, they seemed much more comfortable saying exactly what they meant. I found that refreshing.
Admittedly, I was surrounded by 18-to-25-year-olds in sunny California - not exactly a representative sample of the entire country. Still, their directness and optimism stayed with me and have since proved surprisingly relevant to my career.
During my interview at Rise, Will Hobson, Rise’s Vice President, US, asked me outright how I would describe Americans. My answer was simple: direct. At the time, I had no professional PR experience, let alone experience in US digital PR, but I was barking up the right tree.
Five months into my role as a US Digital PR Associate, those early observations have become genuine professional lessons. I’ve learned that positivity, confidence and clarity matter. Upbeat stories can provide welcome relief from a heavy news cycle, strong opinions are more compelling than sitting on the fence, and national or regional pride can make a campaign feel personally relevant.
The learning never stops, but these are the five lessons about US digital PR that I now keep close at hand…
The US is huge. That means there are far more opportunities for coverage, but it also means you need to be strategic about where you begin.
Consider the regional identity behind your story and target the states or cities most likely to care. When I worked on a reactive for SIXT+ ranking America’s best family rest stops, it made sense to approach Southern publications first. Road trips and supersized stops such as Buc-ee’s hold a special place in Southern culture, giving local journalists a clear reason to cover the story. They know their readers will love it, and you should too.
This quickly secured an influx of links and created a snowball effect familiar to anyone in PR: those first results prove the story has legs and give you a fresh burst of motivation to take it further.
For stories without an immediate time-sensitive hook, regional outreach can also help refine the campaign before approaching high-priority national journalists. By then, the release is stronger, the methodology has survived scrutiny, and you are prepared to answer likely questions quickly.
That doesn’t mean national outreach should always wait, particularly when speed is crucial. However, treating regional coverage as both a valuable result and a learning opportunity can strengthen the entire outreach approach.
One of the quickest routes to relevance is tapping into national or regional pride. A story about something uniquely American, or something a city or state considers its own, immediately gives audiences a reason to care.
Our family rest stops reactive proved this; including Buc-ee’s helped the story land with major Southern publications, includingSouthern Living, because it was more than a highly ranked rest stop: it was part of the region’s identity.
We found a similar opportunity in a reactive about US summer destinations that could rival iconic European holiday spots. The concept hit two cultural sweet spots: Americans may romanticise a European summer, but there is also a compelling sense of pride in discovering that they can find similar experiences at home.
Crucially, it also tapped into the wider “dupe” trend dominating fashion and beauty on TikTok, but now in the travel sphere. Combining a timely consumer trend with national pride gave the ranking several layers of relevance, securing immediate coverage fromTravel + Leisure andParade.
Do not scroll passively. Whether you are on TikTok, Instagram or Pinterest, pay attention to the themes, aesthetics and conversations that keep appearing. There is often a PR story hiding inside them.
I learned this while working with Classic Football Shirts during the World Cup. Our brief presented a challenge: reach women aged 18 to 24 through lifestyle media, despite vintage football shirts traditionally being perceived as a male-focused product.
Luckily, I fell squarely within that audience. I had already noticed football shirts becoming popular when paired with hyper-feminine pieces such as ballet flats, ribbons and miniskirts. I had even bought a Beckham-era Real Madrid shirt on Vinted because I liked exactly that look.
I knew the trend existed - I just needed to name it. It was part of the “blokette” aesthetic, and searches were surging. Suddenly, we had a timely angle connecting the brand with an entirely new audience.
The ideas kept coming. WAGs were emerging as style figures, so we ranked those to watch over the summer. As an Arsenal fan, I had already noticed Tolami Benson’s growing influence on Instagram. The story landed inVogue.
I had also followed Olivia Rodrigo’s collaboration with FC Barcelona and noticed musicians increasingly releasing merch inspired by sports jerseys. We ranked the most in-demand artist jerseys using search data, securing coverage inHELLO!.
These reactives taught me that trends can unlock even a difficult brief. The client sold “football shirts”, the US audience searched for “soccer jerseys”, and our target audience differed from the brand’s traditional customer. By finding the right cultural crossover, we made it work.
A strong outreach plan matters, but it cannot manufacture relevance.
Thanks to university, I was no stranger to data collection, and I would have described my Excel skills as moderate. What I didn’t expect was to feel like a part-time data analyst within months of becoming a PR associate.
That is one thing I love about Rise. From the beginning, I was trusted to contribute to the entire reactive process: brainstorm an idea, pitch it to the client, collect the data, write the release, conduct outreach and then watch the results flood in. It is immensely satisfying.
Data gives a story its legs, but collecting it can become a task and a half. I learned that while ranking the best US cities for corporate golf. The study used only four metrics, but two required extensive manual research. I found myself scouring dozens of golf websites across 20 cities for average green fees and corporate facilities.
It was time-consuming, tedious and slowed the entire reactive process. When a story connects to a fast-moving trend, lengthy data collection risks losing the momentum that made it timely.
Now, I create a clear plan before starting. Where possible, I use around four meaningful metrics, minimise manual collection and ensure the work can be completed quickly without sacrificing accuracy. Some reactives and certainly campaigns require more depth, but more data does not automatically create a stronger story.
Simplicity helps journalists too. Someone should be able to glance at your table and understand what it shows, why the winner won and which figures matter.
Journalists receive hundreds of emails. If they must scroll between a huge table and complicated methodology just to understand the headline, your pitch is likely heading for the bin.
Simplicity doesn’t make data bland; it makes the insight visible.
Yes, I’m a US PR associate who isn’t American. But I know and genuinely enjoy the market.
Alongside my firsthand experience of American culture, I have developed my knowledge by working with US journalists daily. Learning to trust that insight, and wear it as a badge of honour, has been especially valuable when creating reactive ideas.
During my first month at Rise, I began working on the US account for lighting brand Pooky. One of my first tasks was outreaching a data-led story about America’s most wasteful cities. It had already been in outreach for several weeks but attracted limited interest.
I had already noticed that positive stories often performed particularly well in the US. “The least wasteful cities” was the obvious reangle, but I thought the data held a more interesting story: “The Best US Cities for Furniture Scavenging”.
The idea came directly from my college experience. At the end of each semester, the streets would fill with furniture still in perfectly good condition. Students moving between accommodations or returning home often lacked the transport, storage space or time (or bother!) to keep it. Sofas, tables and homeware were left outside, while locals arrived in trucks to claim their finds.
That observation gave us the cultural context for a more positive, useful and distinctive story. Rather than focusing on waste, it showed readers where they could find valuable furniture being given away for free.
That experience taught me not to discount my instincts because I wasn’t born in the market. Market knowledge does not come from nationality alone. It comes from living somewhere, noticing how people behave, following its media and culture, listening to journalists and learning what makes audiences pay attention.
