Clean Aes­the­tic: the Good, the Bad, and the Cul­tu­re Ap­pro­pri­a­ti­on

- by Tam­zee­da Sha­ki­ra



In re­cent years, va­rious aes­the­tic trends have gai­ned po­pu­la­ri­ty on so­cial media plat­forms, sha­ping the way people pre­sent them­sel­ves on­line. One such trend is the clean (girl) aes­the­tic, cha­rac­te­ri­zed by a mi­ni­ma­list and na­tu­ral look, often ac­com­pa­nied by an em­pha­sis on self-​care and well­ness. While this aes­the­tic is prai­sed for pro­mo­ting a heal­thi­er life­style and self-​acceptance, it is not wit­hout its con­tro­ver­sies.



The term clean (girl) aes­the­tic re­fers to a be­au­ty, fa­shion, and life­style trend based around a look that's in­ten­ded to ap­pear ele­gant­ly ca­su­al but also mi­ni­ma­list and ef­fort­less. [It tells you not only what to wear, but how to clean, bathe and even what music to lis­ten to.]

Clear skin (mi­ni­ma­list make­up), simp­le gold je­wel­lery, slicked hair bun. Ano­ther aes­the­tic with a nar­row view of un­re­a­li­stic be­au­ty stan­dards? What if I can­not fol­low all the cri­te­ria of the clean (girl) aes­the­tic? Does that make me un­clean? Dirty even?



Tex­tu­red skin is not dirty. Acne-​ridden faces are not dirty. Face fat is NOT dirty. And neit­her is fa­cial hair. So, the clean (girl) aes­the­tic, ri­go­rous­ly being pu­shed on Tik­Tok and Reels, sets un­at­tain­a­ble be­au­ty stan­dards for most people, es­pe­cial­ly the young, dea­ling with hor­mo­ne im­ba­lan­ce. And as so­me­o­ne on Twit­ter right­ly poin­ted out, ma­king only straight hair part of the clean look is ra­cist (people with tex­tu­red hair exist and it is not ex­clu­si­ve to only black people).



Yet, for years, con­ven­ti­o­nal Wes­tern be­au­ty stan­dards deemed slicked-​back hair and gold hoops ‘tras­hy’, ‘dirty’ or 'ghet­to' when worn by black and brown women. The issue was never with what was done, but ra­ther, who ex­act­ly was doing it (dou­ble stan­dards). Is it only cool when a white girl does it?



When I brow­se th­rough Tik­Tok, I noti­ce that the trend is do­mi­na­ted by white women. Un­for­t­u­na­te­ly, Eu­ro­cen­tric fea­tures are con­ven­ti­o­nal­ly ide­a­li­zed as the be­au­ty stan­dard. Con­se­quent­ly, for ge­ne­ra­ti­ons, black and brown women have been put down for their cul­tu­ral at­ti­re and aes­the­tic choices.



Howe­ver, be­cau­se of the sud­den po­pu­la­ri­ty of the clean (girl) aes­the­tic, black and brown women must also see mar­kers of their cul­tu­re that they were once sha­med for now being glo­ri­fied when white women wear them.



The in­ter­net has just blown the idea of a clean girl/boy way out of pro­por­ti­on and gives a ge­ne­ral­ly un­re­a­li­stic idea of how one 'should' live (that seems to al­ways be the rhe­to­ric).

Quiet Lu­xu­ry and Old Money: prai­se and cri­ti­cism of the fa­shion trend

- by Sa­bi­ne in Stil



The terms Quiet Lu­xu­ry and Old Money have been buz­zing around the fa­shion world on Tik­Tok and You­Tube for a few weeks now.

As with any fa­shion trend, you can find good and ne­ga­ti­ve aspects. For me, the worry­ing thing about them is that these styles are once again only per­cei­ved as tem­po­r­a­ry fa­shion mo­vements and the­re­fo­re re­main just ano­ther trend that fuels con­sump­ti­on. In the fast fa­shion seg­ment, such as Shein or Zara, garments are pro­du­ced that imi­ta­te the ty­pi­cal look of these styles, but their cheap pro­duc­tion me­thods mean that they are not made to last.



Ano­ther con­tra­dic­tion is ce­le­bra­ting ‘old money’ on so­cial media in such a way that the whole world can watch people spen­ding their money on lu­xu­rious, even if neutral-​looking, fa­shion. From my point of view, that's pret­ty loud...

And let's be hon­est; Quiet Lu­xu­ry and Old Money are just an ex­pres­si­on of the fact that we all want to look a bit ri­cher than we re­al­ly are. But the fa­shion trend is crea­ting a false un­der­stan­ding of how people with money re­al­ly treat their clo­thes. A study of mil­li­on­aires in the USA proves that the ty­pi­cal self-​made mil­li­on­aire would spend less than a mil­li­on­aire with fa­mi­ly wealth. What's more, wealt­hy people are the ones who wear clo­thes to death and are more li­kely to have them re­pai­red. Just look at pho­tos of Queen Eliza­beth, who wore the same cos­tu­me over and over again in pu­blic for years.



What I re­al­ly like about the fa­shion trends from Quiet Lu­xu­ry and Old Money is the new cool­ness of nor­ma­li­ty. All those years ago, the aim on so­cial media was to stand out with unusu­al out­fits. Ever­y­thing had to be ‘in­sta­gramma­ble’. Who hasn't felt the pres­su­re to buy a parti­cu­lar item of clo­thing just be­cau­se it was tren­dy? Now you're au­to­ma­ti­cal­ly hip be­cau­se you wear ti­me­less clas­sics.

It's also in­credi­b­ly li­be­ra­ting to think that you can re­tain some an­ony­mi­ty by wea­ring nor­mal looks in an in­crea­sing­ly trans­pa­rent world. Per­so­nal style is still an ex­pres­si­on of in­di­vi­du­a­li­ty, but in the black, white and beige sha­des of Old Money, many people feel safe and part of a lar­ger group - a sense of com­mu­ni­ty (in terms of fa­shion).



Last but not least, I wel­co­me the sus­taina­bi­li­ty aspect of these fa­shion trends. Old Money em­pha­sises the du­ra­bi­li­ty of the garments. Si­mi­lar to a cap­su­le ward­ro­be, you put toge­ther high-​quality ba­sics that you can ea­si­ly com­bi­ne with each other and wear again and again. The basic idea be­hind these fa­shion trends is sus­tain­a­ble and I would be de­ligh­ted if it wasn't just a quick­ly fa­ding trend, but a long-​term chan­ge in the mind­set of us fa­shion con­su­mers: Qua­li­ty over quan­ti­ty and di­ver­se all-​rounders in­s­tead of fancy one-​off pieces are fi­nal­ly al­lo­wed to take over our ward­ro­bes.