Every possible name for an aesthetic has been exhausted at this point — from “cottagecore” to “dark academia” to the satirical “corecore.” The online space has found language to classify all sorts of different physical appearances in niche corners of the internet. It’s all well and good, but I think it (even if only innocuously) reflects a broader trend of aesthetics taking precedence over actual meaning.
Of course, I’m not declaring “cottagecore” and “dark academia” as bad omens in and of themselves. It’s about the growing popularity and fanaticism surrounding the reproduction of aesthetics. Especially those with apparent socioeconomic implications, like the “old money” and “trad wife” (traditional wife) aesthetics. It’s these sort of aesthetics that have been gaining traction in recent years, accompanying the rightward, conservative cultural shift that brought Trump’s reelection (especially among young men who turned out for him in higher numbers than anticipated).
These trends hark back to the inequalities of the past: rewriting and sanitizing them for an audience far enough away from their realities to fall in love with them. I only need to call upon a few examples to demonstrate this point.
For example, on Twitter/X, a video with the caption “Casual parties at Lake Como” went viral and has received over 30 million views at the time of writing. The video depicts a group of well-dressed young people dancing and conversing throughout a lavish, chandelier-adorned dining room; taking trips out to sea on antique wooden boats; and looking out from a balcony across an endless green lawn. The clips appear as if they’re from a distinctly different era, perfectly encapsulating the essence of the “old money” aesthetic that has captivated so many. (According to one Twitter/X user, this video is actually sourced from the Tuxedo Society, a private club where members pay thousands of dollars to film “old money” content. The glamour is a manufactured illusion that idealizes extravagant wealth.)
On TikTok, an influencer named Nara Smith amassed millions of followers by dressing elegantly while preparing a variety of meals from scratch for her family. Some have connected Smith’s videos to the “trad wife” aesthetic because of her homemaking content. Smith has since come out against the label, though that doesn’t change how many publicly perceived and responded to her online presence.
Even still, other social media personalities like Estee Williams have openly referred to themselves as “trad wives” and advocated for women’s submission and service to their husbands. As happy as some openly “trad wife” influencers are, there’s an element of romanticization of a historically-entrenched power imbalance that can’t go ignored.
It’s more than just fashion. These aesthetics are centered around the performance of a lifestyle, whether constructed purposefully or by accident. It’s not only about individual creators, but the widespread consumption of this type of content and the language being spread around it. The conversation about these aesthetics often takes on a purely cosmetic tone, veering sharply away from the underlying, unstated realities of class inequality and the patriarchy. Instead, people see lifestyles they wish to emulate, absent of real historical significance.
The problem with aesthetics is not limited to aesthetics cultivated around conventional beauty and elegance, either. Many see a pattern of various punk and counterculture aesthetics — which originated in conjunction with anti-establishment political and social views — being appropriated for internet clout. There’s a clear goal to use these aesthetics to project specific and curated images of ourselves, whether they’re reflective of our true beliefs and desires or not. The meaning associated with the real history, politics, and art behind the aesthetic is dwindling away.
It’s a change that isn’t confined merely to our digital spaces. It influences how we perceive each other and how we want to be perceived ourselves. It’s in the clothes we wear and the pictures we post, but also how we market ourselves to others: how we speak, rather than what we say. It’s a pursuit of decorum in a myriad of forms.
I don’t write this article to ruin the fun of aesthetics, or to say that we should never find any of them appealing. However, just as with everything we like, we need to interrogate why we feel the way we do and consider the history that we might be manipulating in the process of co-opting aesthetics. We need to have conversations about our search for online validation, widespread tendencies toward materialism, and the morality we attach to beauty.
We need to ensure that the rise of aesthetics doesn’t bring about the death of meaning.