As a kid, it seemed like I was counting down the days until I could finally become a teenager. During my tween years, shows on Disney Channel and songs on the Billboard Hot 100 pushed the idea that turning 16 would unlock a whole new world. We’d be able to live a life filled with freedom and expression, without having to answer to anyone. This message was everywhere at the time; there was so much media centred on how transformative teenagehood would all be, to the point that it was inescapable.
As a result, teenagers were pushed to the forefront of mainstream entertainment culture, with much of the beauty and entertainment world structuring their releases around teenage tastes. It was clear that teenagers were the most dominant consumer group, with billions of dollars a year being poured into marketing towards this age group.
But this wasn’t an exclusive experience to my generation of older Gen Z’s. Throughout recent history, teenagers have always served as cultural curators, deciding what’s hot and what’s not.
Subcultures, such as the Sound System wave that took over London or Hip Hop that dominated the Bronx, were born out of an innate teenage search for self-discovery. It isn’t rare to come across a story of teenagers growing together when they feel as though they’re on their own and no one understands them. A hunger comes to life in these spaces, fueling the group and pushing them to create and live in ways that are true only to them.
The authentic creativity and passion within these spaces inspired culture as a whole. To this day, we see runway shows and marketing campaigns that draw inspiration from the ideas of teenagers of yesterday, creating pieces and movements we still engage with.
Society was shaped by these subcultures, but today it seems to be flipped around. Today, creative spaces for teenagers are far more algorithmic and exist exclusively online. According to data from Archrival, 77 percent of teenagers in the U.S. search for inspiration online at least monthly, with approximately half doing so exclusively on social media.
This leads to an infinite loop of consumption, where inspiration and exploitation weave in and out of public consciousness until platforms are ready to push the next marketable item, restarting the loop.
Celebrities and influencers play a large role in this, acting as a bridge between consumers and markets to successfully sell teens an idealized identity, something that we didn’t see much of in the past. As a result, teenagers and young adults are being marketed the same products at the same time, leaving no room for younger generations to explore their identities outside of the marketing matrix.
Additionally, the loss of media created exclusively for teens through the shutdown of various teen magazines (the Teen Vogue merger, for instance) makes spaces for self-expression outside the adult world slimmer. Therefore, teenagers are placed in a position where they’re encouraged to assume adult roles and responsibilities at a young age, while the world treats them as if they’re older than they are—this process is known as adultification.
Adultification of teenage girls is nothing new, especially to Black girls, but this mechanism is becoming more widespread and happening at an accelerated rate. While society at large is pressuring teenage girls to mature faster, there is a parallel cultural shift changing what “growing up” is meant to look like in the first place.
The rise of contemporary conservatism across the globe has played a significant role in this transformation, ushering in a return to traditional ideals of femininity that leaves no room for the experimentation that once defined teenagehood.
In many ways, we are witnessing a regression towards 1950s values; a period where the concept of the “teenager” was still in development. During this era, one was either a girl or a woman, with very little space in between. This was evident in social customs, fashion, and media at the time. Children were expected to transition seamlessly into adulthood through domestic roles, caregiving and early marriage.
Today, that framework is reemerging in a more palatable way through the digital age.
Online, there has been an increase in content that romanticizes traditional femininity through the image of the ‘trad-wife’; she is soft-spoken, a domestic servant, and her primary aspiration is motherhood before all else. Influencers like Nara Smith have become a figurehead for this shift. Her home-cooked meals, childcare, and hyper-feminine presentation reflect the growing public interest in what appears to be a slower, organic lifestyle (though it is truly anything but).
While there is nothing inherently wrong with choosing a life of domesticity and motherhood, we should not ignore the harm that comes with championing this aesthetic to young audiences.
The appeal of the trad-wife aesthetic, paired with the loss of spaces for adolescent exploration, signals a broader cultural pendulum swing. This shift is tied to political and social movements advocating stricter gender roles and a return to traditional family values.
Pushing young girls towards these ideas denies them the opportunity to exist in spaces that are theirs alone. Stripping away the ability to challenge and question norms prevents young people from understanding themselves in relation to the world and stunts collective cultural evolution, as we’ve seen in previous generations.
Challenging these shifts allows us to advocate for girls’ empowerment, especially in a culture that has shown us that the disempowerment of women’s autonomy is its end goal. If we continue to ignore this shift, young girls will lose a quintessential part of maturity, unable to navigate their own paths without the weight of social pressure raining down on them.
As a result, the teenager, once a cultural curator and a symbol of change, is being repositioned into a passive role. There is limited space for genuine self-discovery, and one should question whether this was intentional.
What makes this all the more alarming is that this restructuring has resulted from a merging of various social forces. Shifting political ideologies, market pressure, technological advancements and cultural nostalgia have all reshaped the boundaries of adolescence, leaving teenage girls particularly vulnerable.
So I ask, who will look out for the teenager, and return us to a period of resistance and self-discovery? That role rests on us; we have to resist the call of apathy in the face of conservatism and allow teenage girls to be girls, just as we were before.