The Clean Girl Aesthetic Is a Lot More Than a TikTok Trend
The “Clean Girl Aesthetic” has taken social media by storm. Favored by young women, the trend calls for light makeup, sleek hairstyles, neutral clothing, and simple jewelry. Its popularity soared as temperatures rose last summer — it was no longer practical to continue to wear your hair down, apply heavy makeup, and roast in chunky sweaters. In essence, the clean girl aesthetic is similar to the many minimalistic trends we’ve seen cycle over the past decades, and like the others, it comes after the alternative styles of the “indie/alt kid” trend of 2020–2021 which was characterized by heavy eyeliner, oversaturated colors, and a more fluid approach to gender expression. Today’s “clean girls” claim the much simpler aesthetic is easy for anyone to achieve and progressive with its focus on natural beauty — but is it?
One of the most definitive staples of a clean girl is her hair. There are hundreds of how-to guides for her signature slicked-back bun, which she often pairs with a classic claw clip. New York Magazine’s The Cut advises to “pull your hair back, and slick down any and all flyaways with a gel or pomade so you cannot hide behind your hair in any way, shape, or form”. For some, this could certainly be seen as a powerful step away from the previously favored long hair and curtain bangs, a sign that women are beginning to feel empowered enough to present their faces fearlessly to the world instead of hiding. Slicking your hair back into this style means you declare to the world that you are a clean girl, and you go through life boldly, unabashedly, and freely.
That is, of course, only if you are white, wealthy, skinny, have flawless skin, high cheekbones, a small nose, and thin straight hair. If you don’t match that description, you’ll struggle to find any place for you in the clean girl community, and you’ll have to scroll through dozens of the aforementioned ‘real’ clean girls in order to find any representation under the #cleangirl tags on TikTok or Instagram. The trend promises to transform any impressionable young woman into a chic queen, and the beauty industry has quickly latched onto these idealistic fantasies, conveniently overlooking the many issues with the aesthetic.
Style guides include lengthy descriptions on how to perfectly emulate the “effortless model off-duty” look, paired with products that promise to make your pores disappear (the apparent key to achieving ‘natural’ glowing skin) and hair pomades that offer “ultimate hold and control”. These tutorials create unrealistic expectations of the “ideal woman” (as does every trend) and convince young women to value consumerism and perfection. Despite this look being “easy” and “natural,” these women are still being taught to focus on how much they can enhance their appearance. The clean girl aesthetic promotes women who are conventionally attractive according to Euro-centric ideals and punishes anyone who has acne, textured skin, or facial hair. After years of being told that these ‘imperfections’ must be hidden behind a thick layer of foundation, the clean girl aesthetic seeks to expose these flaws — and punishes women for having them. Essentially, if you have to put in effort to look like a supermodel, you’re doing it wrong. It’s a natural look (never mind the good genes, plastic surgery, top-shelf products, and expensive dermatologist teams that models have) that’s easy for anyone to achieve!
‘Style icons’ and famed supermodels Hailey Beiber and Bella Hadid are widely lauded as the inspiration and origin of the clean girl aesthetic, but in reality, Black and Latina women created the look decades ago. Slicked-back buns and gold jewelry were a staple of these communities’ styles. They represented cultural pride and empowerment, seen as a symbol for activism in the 60s and 70s when Angela Davis and Nina Simone wore them. To white communities, however, the style was dismissed as “ghetto”. Hoop earrings in particular were often seen as trashy — a popular saying was “the bigger the hoop, the bigger the hoe.” These harmful words were part of the larger stereotypes of Black and Latina women, who were often dismissed as “the loud friend, the promiscuous mistress or the scary aggressor.” As always, the women’s appearances were held against them and used in place of their personal attributes, so their hair and jewelry became easy targets for stereotypes and racism. Of course, that all changed once white women began to embrace the style. You would never hear someone calling a white woman a hoe for wearing big hoop earrings — a Vogue article singing the praises of white supermodels wearing gold hoops claims that “when it comes to accents of gold, bigger is better” — but you might if the woman was Black instead. Previously scorned styles can now be found on red carpets, designer brand catalogs, and supermodel social media pages. Latina writer Chelsea Candelario explains, “for some, it’s high-fashion. But for us, it’s a reminder that something is more valuable when it comes from white culture than when it comes from our own communities.” (To learn more about how cultural appropriation has consistently been an issue in fashion, read Women’s Wear Daily’s discussion or scroll through this list of dozens of recent controversies you may be familiar with.)
For what is essentially repackaged minimalism, the name “clean girl” reveals a lot about the inherent values this lifestyle promotes. Our society’s fascination with duality means the “clean girl” must have an unclean counterpart. The “dirty girl aesthetic” has also been coined by some young women in opposition, but with far less enthusiasm because dirty things are ugly, shunned, and valued far less — as are dirty people. Ironic, given that this aesthetic originated with African American and Latina women who were called “ghetto” and “trashy” when pairing slicked-back hair with gold hoop earrings and long acrylic nails. Now that white women have culturally appropriated them, these styles have been elevated to “clean” status, while the original trendsetters are left with the memories of judgemental looks and racist remarks.
As with many viral lifestyles, there’s an underlying theme of misogyny that isn’t easily identifiable at first. I had assumed (at least initially) that the clean girl aesthetic’s popularity was due to its emphasis on women’s freedom and liberation from the oppressive patriarchy, but I quickly discovered that this aesthetic instead leans heavily on the idea of purity and virginal femininity. Even though the trend is largely marketed to women in their 20s, it’s called the clean girl aesthetic, not the clean woman or clean lady aesthetic. This reflects society’s constant reminders that youthfulness equals attractiveness, and encourages the obsession with a pure, untouched girl. The clean girl wears simple, timeless clothing and jewelry and doesn’t try to attract attention or seduce men. Her hair is pulled away from her face (which has historically been associated with greater maturity and sensibility) rather than long and free-flowing. She is beautiful but not sexy, delicate but not fragile, and confident but not assertive — distinctions made exclusively by the patriarchy. On the other hand, society has consistently viewed Black and Latina women as masculine, aggressive, and overly sexual. The women of color who have reached viral status under the #cleangirl tags often conform to white beauty standards, which reaffirms the inherent qualities that exclude them from truly participating in the trend they created. The language used to describe this aesthetic focuses on an antiquated idea of femininity, so not only do racial biases prevent inclusivity, but it’s clear the trend isn’t as progressive as it claims to be.
The clean girl aesthetic started as a means to draw attention to women’s inherent beauty — to uplift them and encourage natural looks. Unfortunately, its numerous inherent flaws made it an exclusionary trend rather than the inclusive, feminist movement it was posited to be. Millions of young women fell prey to its racist undertones and false promises of “perfection”. As the internet inevitably forgets and loses interest in the trend, a new one will take its place — already, people are predicting a resurgence of the “2014 Tumblr Era” which is famous for its promotion of eating disorders and negative self-views. But there are signs that things are improving. Dozens of white women have joined the ranks of Black and Latinx creators protesting the harmful effects of the clean girl aesthetic and calling out the truth of its origins. Hopefully, this outcry will prevent another harmful trend from taking the clean girls’ place, this time before its effects sink their claws into us young, impressionable women.