I never really fit into one aesthetic growing up, and this is not for a lack of trying. When I was fourteen I wore the same khaki green jacket and messy bun most girls in my classes were wearing. Totally laid back, yet so chic. At fifteen I started listening to The 1975 and decided being soft grunge was my true calling. Yet, I never fully leaned into the fashion, or the attitudes that came with them. Over time I gave up on having a specific style that would force people to make snap judgements about my personality. Then one day my For You Page (FYP) broke me.
If your TikTok algorithm is like mine in any way then you would have seen hyper-specific aesthetics being forced upon consumers. The original idea of aesthetics is a philosophical study towards beauty, art, and taste. Nowadays, it is mainly a word used when discussing something in pop culture, and specifically a style/fashion (warning: this article will be heavily using the latter definition). Cultures and subcultures of style have existed most likely since style was created, but within the last couple of years I have noticed how hyper-specific they have become, which led me to ask myself: does this make anyone feel good about their style?
On one hand, a hyper-specific aesthetic style could help someone find like-minded people and build a community. It could help them gain a sense of self, and grow in confidence. There is absolutely nothing wrong with this, but the problem is when it feels like my algorithm is desperately clawing at my eyes begging me to pick one niche it can market to me. It never ends. I watched a few videos on the “clean girl”aesthetic and decided that couldn’t be me, and days later I was being fed “whimsigoth.” Then it tries to get me to become a “coastal grandmother” (essentially Diane Keaton), and eventually the videos get extra hyper-specific with the creation of a “coastal granddaughter” (the same as Diane Keaton but also you have a trust fund).
This barely even scratches the surface of the multitude of aesthetics that TikTok creators provide their followers, and other users. This isn’t to say I haven’t ever given into these niches; have I picked up a horribly written book because I knew that if people saw me reading it on the bus I would be deemed a cool girl like TikTok says? Yes, of course I have! I nod along happily when someone says my bangs give them Sally Rooney era vibes. My worst habit is exclaiming to friends that yes, their dark green sweater is incredibly dark academia. For however long the video lasts I love being a part of this weird niche community that thousands of other people relate to, but to be completely honest, I am tired. For one minute I think I have finally found my niche style. Then suddenly I am being pushed into a whole new direction.
As time goes on it becomes clear that these niche aesthetics are simply being used to sell users products, and it contributes to the overconsumption of both media and products. This push and pull into so many different style directions that my FYP gives me has left a question mark over my sense of self, despite now being the time where I have a million aesthetics to choose from. Enough is enough! From now on I will not force myself to fit into a niche craftily-prepared style made for me by someone with a brand deal and millions of followers.
Eva Davey is a UFV student majoring in English Literature and minoring in Media Communications. She is a fan of poetry, oat milk lattes, and the final girl trope. Currently, her worst enemy is the Good Reads app.
