By Valleryna Amanda
Do you see the way this blog post is written? It’s very demure, very mindful, very considerate … and if you haven’t already caught on, I am referencing the most recent TikTok trend to go viral.
The ‘demure’ audio, created by TikToker Jools Lebron, has taken the internet by storm, reaching other platforms such as Instagram reels, Facebook, and even X. The term has spread as fast as ‘girl dinner’. Some even suggested describing something as ‘demure’ might replace the much loved slay. Before this, we saw a similar rise of other aesthetics, such as the ‘clean girl’, ‘cool girl’, ‘office sirens’, and ‘Y2K’. Most recently, Charli XCX’s newest album, Brat, invited Gen Zs to have a ‘brat summer’. Brat summer has ended, rest in peace, and we are now rapidly entering a new aesthetic and lifestyle, the ever-modest demure era.
But a Gen Z ‘era’ has an extremely short life span. Gen Zs have become overly reliant on these micro-trends to make sense of the world and their identity. Has this age of doomscrolling and overconsumption created an identity crisis for the new generation? Is Gen Z’s tendency to fast-cycle trends preventing young people from living authentically?
Micro-trends as the new identity
The term demure was invented as the antithesis of the ‘clean girl aesthetic,’ an aesthetic that promotes an effortless (yet unrealistic) minimalist lifestyle. The clean girl journals in the morning and is beautiful in that no-makeup-makeup kind of way. She bakes bread, makes her own soy milk, and meditates—all before 8 a.m.
So, ‘demure’ is used ironically to poke fun at this unattainable clean girl lifestyle. For example, @ahslee_ruth on TikTok describes her inability to get out of bed as demure: ‘See how I’m rotting in bed,’ she said in her video, submerged in blankets. ‘Very demure, very mindful, very cutesy…’
Are you still with me? Because this is just the tip of the iceberg.
The quick evolution of trends has influenced Gen Z’s sense of self. Questions like ‘Who am I?’ and ‘Who do I want to be?’ have become linked to questions like ‘Which aesthetic am I going for today?’ and ‘What does this trend say about me?’
Trends and aesthetics have always existed. Historically, they were huge drivers for young people’s search for self-identity and self-expression. These trends and aesthetics, like the ’60s and ’70s subcultures of skinheads and hippies, were usually built around a specific style and ideology that rebelled against the status quo.
But the overabundance of aesthetic terms like ‘sad girl’ and ‘pink Pilates princess’ makes it hard for anyone to keep up. Most Gen Zs battle with this constant need to stay on trend and not fall behind, especially when we keep getting fed content that goes through the quick wash cycle. It has also become increasingly difficult to achieve these trends and lifestyles without buying the products associated with them.
Micro-trends have neatly manufactured identities and labels for young people to relate to and engage with others as part of a group. But unlike previous generations’ subcultures, these trends and aesthetics are less about ideologies and personalities and more about ‘looking the part’ through one’s spending habits. Almost all of these viral trends come with a specific aesthetic that prioritises products more than a belief or worldview. For example, being a true pink Pilates princess requires Uggs, Stanley cups, and a Pilates membership—quite a pricey aesthetic to achieve.
Today’s obsession with micro-trends is embedded in the idea that self-improvement, belonging, and personality can be bought. It almost always involves getting a new wardrobe, makeup, or paid membership to a specific club—all of which cost money. This leaves no time for self-reflection to figure out what we like and what we don’t like before being thrust into the next ‘it’ thing.
The normalcy of seeing these trends has changed how Gen Zs view themselves. As a fellow Gen Z, the unending cycle of changing trends has made it hard for me not to be influenced. One day, I exist in the clean girl aesthetic bubble, and the next, I’m being told it’s lame and we should all be in our ‘brat summer’ instead.
Gen Z has essentially set the trend cycle to ‘quick wash’, with trends filling the machine to the brim, only for a few to survive the harsh rinse and spin.
The detergent? Short-form content.
Bite-sized content is the real girl dinner
Short-form content exists on nearly all social media platforms, from TikTok to Facebook. I guarantee you can find one soon after opening any popular social app. About 66% of marketers consider short-form content the most popular and effective format for content consumption. Around 1.6 billion people used short-form content in 2022, and that number has only risen since.
Short-form content carefully curated by marketers has accelerated the rapid changes in trends. TikTok and Instagram have a quick turnover on trends and aesthetics because the algorithm feeds users what is popular to keep up a high engagement. This also strategically keeps users on the apps longer.
Media outlets and marketing strategies use these aesthetic trends on young people to promote their projects, brands, and political agendas. Let’s not forget Kamala Harris’s use of the brat summer trend in her presidential campaign. What better way to get Gen Zs to vote than by appearing relatable and paying homage to a trend they created?
Apart from politics, this new way of marketing toward Gen Z is also found in various businesses and high-end brands. Companies, political figures, and influencers exploit young people’s search for identity by selling them personalities in a box, which they can purchase and return whenever they see fit. And it works—every time.
Short-form content makes information delivery faster and more efficient than ever before. Exacerbated by capitalism and personal agendas, the speed with which we now receive information and the overabundance of content consumable online send our brains into overdrive and our trends into a quick cycle.
Can we take a second and press pause on this cycle?
For many Gen Zs, changing aesthetics is a big part of growing and learning. Aren’t we always changing as people? Maybe I learned that the brat summer aesthetic is not working for me, but that does not mean I should be ashamed for not jumping on that bandwagon. As we grow up, we learn to appreciate different things, we find new interests and preferences, and that’s natural. Demure might be trendy right now, but it could be cringeworthy tomorrow.
There’s also no harm in getting those shoes that your favourite singer is wearing or that Y2K jacket, as long as we stay mindful about how much we purchase. Overconsumption is not demure.
At the end of the day, Gen Zs need to remember that as long as they’re enjoying themselves, what’s the harm? With the way content is now being fed to us, trends will be stuck in the quick-wash laundry cycle. Whether we like it or not, aesthetic trends are here to stay. They have influenced how we speak, our sense of humour, and our understanding of the world. Words such as ‘slay’ have become a part of the Gen Z vocabulary. But is it really that different from kids in the ’80s saying, ‘That’s gnarly, dude!’
It’s also OK to pick and choose the trends you love, much like your garments—you must separate your activewear from your work attire. My summers might be brat and my winters demure, and that works for me! If building our sense of self is tied to the cycle of trends, then it becomes increasingly important to take the time and delicately—or, shall I say, mindfully—wash your favourite aesthetics to ensure they last the next cycle.
Valleryna Amanda is a writer and graduate of the University of Melbourne in Creative Writing and Media Communications. When Valleryna Amanda is not busy writing, she works hard to level up her characters in fantasy games set in extraordinary worlds—much like her own works.
Cover image by Mike Balbus. Used under the Unsplash License.


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