It seems that every 15 minutes or so a new aesthetic* drops. Weary of dark academia, Cabin-core, Coastal Grandma, and all the rest? Why not investigate an aesthetic that highlights the Zeitgeist we’re actually living in?
None of these are aspirational, but then, that’s what secret Instas are for: weird aesthetic cosplay. And yeah, I’m sure there are brands targeting these exact dropped pins that are stuck into the voodoo doll of society.
Here are ten aesthetics (+ mood equations for each one) that are already out there, festering—they just need to be verbally articulated so they can become hash-tagged, commodified, parodied, and adopted as schticks. To know them is to maybe not love them, but grok them better.
So-educated Hermit
(see also: your least-favorite professor)
This aesthetic was going to donate that threadbare brand-name cardigan they got such a great deal on (before Filene’s closed) that’s missing two buttons and makes their neck look weird, but why waste a perfectly good aesthetic object? They chose instead to wear it inside out and make it their signature piece. Maybe accessorize it with obnoxious sunglasses and stacks of tarnished silver bracelets that chime while pontificating on the failure of the art world to recognize translation as a medium. When your face is eaten by your pets after you die, your torso crushed by a stack of unread books, this look will make all the sense in the world.
Spider Core
(see also: goth horse girls)
This is the aesthetic of those who lurk in corners of rooms and make blanket forts the focal points of their interior design. They take up knitting or crochet not for the end products, but for the soothing habitual motions of the craft. Own the fact that you might be poisonous, but nobody will know unless they get too close. Skitter instead of strut. Let your energy radiate an impossible-to-resist danger and devour anyone who breaches the edge of your fort. Always eat with your hands. Obviously: this aesthetic calls for wearing lots of brown and black.
Big Lint Energy
(see also: overachieving stoners)
Dust. Pet fur. Random stains. The odor of a meal cooked last week is the perfume of this aesthetic. They’re not unwashed: they’re conserving water and saving money on detergent. From more than 20 feet away, and as long as their empty amazon and pizza boxes are not visible via Zoom, nobody will know that Big Lint Energy is even a thing with them. This vibe pairs well with clicking yes when Netflix asks if anybody’s still watching.
Satisficer Chic
(see also: retired and loving it)
Some aesthetics demand the very best of everything, agonize over tiny details and put careful thought into their presentation. Not those who embrace Satisficer Chic. Those characters wear clothes, not outfits. They just grab whatever and if it fits, they wear it. Their mantra is, “Works for me.” They only know where their five favorite items are inside the grocery store and reheat coffee in the microwave while listening to that one radio station nobody can believe is still on the air. They unironically believe “that it just can’t get better than this.”
Interior Freshness
(see also: no longer doing CrossFit but still afraid of carbs)
How they are feeling on the inside matters manifests on the outside. And this aesthetic feels stressed. Their vitamin and probiotic habits are intense. Their water bottle is always full of cold, crisp hydration, especially when taken to the gym that they actually go to. They floss every day, sometimes even twice, sometimes just to see blood on the twine. They use a lot of Q-tips and have a favorite salad. Whatever clothing they wear is assumed to be fashionable, because they have forged themselves into anxiety-propelled hangers. Their dreams are 90% fear and 10% guilt and they never miss a deadline.
Invisible-Agreeable
(see also: anybody in any kind of closet)
All trends are their trends. They always look good but never like themselves. They’re up for whatever, whenever. They don’t think politics have anything to do with them. They talk the talk but take no steps that could make them a single enemy. For them, Pepsi’s fine. They don’t even realize that they haven’t cried in almost a year. They don’t like talking about heavy stuff and tell first dates that they’re not at all high maintenance. They never make a fuss about anything even when its horrifying. But this is an aesthetic in larval form: for when they snap, they will shed their pliability for a loud, hard, and vicious final form.
Insomnia Dad
(see also: soccer moms as seen as a voting bloc in 1996)
College degree cost-benefit analysis. Global warming as a real estate consideration. 401k matching hacks. Thermostat settings. The continual decline of your ever-sweating flesh. The authority-threatening puberty of your ever-present children. Thoughts like these keep this aesthetic up at night. This character flaunts their well-earned red eyes and shaky grip on the tasks at hand as proof of the respectable refusal to run away from it all to a country without extradition where there is lots of rum. They enjoy killing weeds with noxious chemicals while wearing clothing embroidered with logos from their resume: schools attended, companies worked for, and the formerly enviable brands worn before they became so very, very tired.
Smile Enforcer
(see also: church youth group leaders)
The embodiment of toxic-positivity. This character spins bad news into insulting silver linings, often making people guilty for feeling their own grief, suffering, diagnosis, and despair. This aesthetic cannot be emotionally moved by anything. They love a well-tailored blazer. Their vehicle is always spotless and they secretly relish being the unkillable messenger of horrible news. This aesthetic often brings cupcakes to share with colleagues, and then gets butthurt when nobody eats them.
Stunted Hero
(see also: Sisyphus)
This aesthetic makes attempts. Lots of attempts. In many directions. And the more attempts made, the feebler they become. And yet: this vibe endures. They are in all the meetings even if they never have anything to add. They have started and given up on dozens of careers, hobbies, relationships, and educational endeavors. They have one plant that won’t die, and most people call them by the wrong first name, but at least the calls are made. They have more than 3 dozen t-shirts with characters on them. They may be highly susceptible to the advances of cult recruiters.
Secret Expert
(see also: the sketchy people museums are named after)
This aesthetic has a collection of rare and possible looted items that will only become valuable many years in the future. They are the only expert on earth on a topic so niche, they don’t even bother to explain it anymore. They are meticulously organized and chew the inside of their lips. Their manic, strange flavor joy is self-generated, and they are protective of it: it manifests in them always wearing many layers. An entire room is devoted to the hoard of odd stuff. This aesthetic stands in corners at parties, if they deign to attend at all.
*I find it weird that this word has become a slang for “trope” and I have used it as such in this essay. Language changes as the times do, and so we must learn to chatter in new ways.