It’s the fifth bowl of perfectly assembled oats I’ve seen this morning; who knew chia seeds could be such a point of contention? The videos continue; matching workout sets, a green juice, some time for journaling, and a fashion show to find the perfect outfit, all seemingly before 7am before the sun has risen and the rest of the world has even rubbed the sleep from their eyes. A small slice of #aesthetic perfection. As a scroll I tell myself it's time my alarm-ridden, chaotic morning routine (currently powered more by stress than spirulina), was like this. More aesthetic, more that girl. But, who actually is 'that girl', and why are we so obsessed with being her?
By now we're pretty used to the nuances of the social media world; at it's worst a never-ending conveyor belt of fads, materialism, and hustle culture. And yet, despite all of this, we want to be a part of it. As we whirlwind through a variety of trends and aesthetics, some lasting for mere months, some dominating cyberspace, we rarely take a pause to reflect on what we’re signing ourselves up to.
The same goes for our current obsession with being 'that girl'. A trend that sprang up mainly on TikTok some months ago. She rises at 5am, makes her bed, and switches on her sunset lamp. Then it's yoga, skincare and a matcha latte before the day has even really started for the rest of us.
On the surface, she's an untouchable female power force that attacks her day with vigour and confidence, powered by flipclock alarms and a skincare fridge. But, underneath it all, could the lifestyle of aesthetic be stifled by rigidity? Is chasing the 'that girl' life encouraging an overbearing dependence on structure, convention, and expectation?
The trend is just a singular example of our infatuation with aestheticism. The hashtag has acquired over 1.4 billion views on TikTok and is an immediate reminder of how a love for aesthetics has come to define our feeds, inspirations, and lives. The word 'aesthetic' has become so woven into our vernacular that I no longer remember a time in which I wasn’t aware of making something 'aesthetic'. Whether it's rearranging items on tables, going in search of the perfect photo location, or performing a photo shoot over your Sunday breakfast, the need to create a 'highlight reel' aesthetic on Instagram and TikTok seems to have fully taken hold of us.
This may be the heart of the problem. Somewhere along the social media lifespan, it seems as though we've got a little confused and now we're into a phase where the aesthetic is dictating our choices. From editing our photos to match our feeds, to creating a colour-coded bullet journal so our diary looks attractive, aestheticism now rules our food, clothing and lifestyle choices, rather than our lives dictating our aesthetic – who else is guilty of ordering a certain plate of food specifically for your planned photo dump for the 'gram?
For all its negative connotations, as an active Instagram user with a toxic trait of taking too many pictures, I will be the first person to defend aesthetics. I thrive from capturing the perfect food spread, documenting gatherings and events with my phone, and curating a theme for the night. I truly find it fun. I am also a believer in surrounding yourself with creative spaces to spark inspiration. At its core, these trends begin with the best intentions: to promote self-confidence while allowing you to indulge whole-heartedly in your personality and individuality.
"Why does it feel so politicised? Why do 'that girl' videos feel like endless expressions of exclusivity?"
But, sometimes it feels like individuality has morphed into trendsetting and the overwhelming number of 'that girl' videos on TikTok set off a warning sound in my head. Could never-ending cycles of regimented routines, strict eating and exercise schedules be prohibiting our spontaneity and stifling creativity? Why does it feel so politicised? Why do 'that girl' videos feel like endless expressions of exclusivity?
We can look at how aesthetics manifest to understand the toxicity that can come from them. Trends do not self-perpetuate; they rely on traction, obsession – and most importantly – a cult following. Adherence to an aesthetic therefore often breeds competition. In the case of the bullet journal trend, it was who had the nicest handwriting, the prettiest colour palette. For the photo dump, it was who had the best variation and to be 'that girl', it's all about who could showcase their picture-perfect morning routine in the most eye-pleasing way. Even with something like the innocent photo dump, there are certain conventions that feel like they must be followed – but where's your sunset picture?
Given that these are all visual platforms, we're almost encouraged to perform or conform to an aesthetic, which can lead to issues of control. A Reddit thread about aesthetics suggested the importance of "balance" in curating your desired image. Suddenly, the idea of an aesthetic, once an exciting concept describing individuality, identity, personal style or creative expression has been taken over by expectation, restriction, and stringency.
So, after scrolling through my umpteenth video of perfect chia seeds I found myself asking: is there a way one can successfully navigate an aesthetic without feeling trapped? Possibly it comes down to being mindful of our priorities, and understanding our personal boundaries. Trends require virility, and where that can have a negative impact it can also have a positive one. The sustainable fashion hashtag has 1.5B views on TikTok, zero waste 1.6B and body positivity 17.2B (at the time of writing). Without the cycling of trends, what would happen to these societal shifts?
I think one possible solution relies on self-awareness. If we asked ourselves who we would be without Instagram, how much would our daily life choices alter? Something to remember the next time you're out for dinner. The phone eats first? Don’t be ridiculous.
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