Gen Z’s Internet Cynicism and ‘Cool Girl Culture’ Is Trying to Ruin Millennial-Born Carefree Cringe

An Ode to the Twee Era of the Early Aughts

The Twee era of fashion and pop culture was one for the books. Millennials paved the way for younger generations to embrace what it means to be different. They encouraged everyone to cringe at themselves without getting upset about it, and to let their interests guide them instead of following the rip current that is mainstream trends.

_{pinkreference on Instagram}

Indie sleaze and early 2000s Y2K style, crusaded by icons like Sky Ferreira, JLo, and Britney Spears, are among some of the most popular styles of the early 21st century. But I’d like to focus on the cringiest of them all, Twee. Twee’s style is dressing “affectedly or excessively dainty, delicate, cute, or quaint.” In the height of the Twee era, wearing your heart on your sleeve was seen as a victory, and stoicism was rejected at every turn. Think: Zooey Deschanel or Alexa Chung. Plus, Chung’s ex-partner, Alex Turner of the Arctic Monkeys, shared the pop culture stage as one of the faces of the 2010s indie rock scene.

There was no TikTok—only Tumblr and MySpace. Instead of “mogging” your social media peers and calculating an Instagram story post for an hour before finally pressing “post,” you posted low-effort content that was real and raw, or at the very least, less calculated than the social media presences we’re witnessing today. Social media has turned into a performance of sorts, and everything the Millennials have fought tooth and nail for over the years has proven to be moot. It appears Gen Z just can’t stop collectively overthinking.

Millennials Broke the Pattern, Gen Z Brought it Back

As a fellow Gen Zer, it’s difficult to defend myself and my generational peers against the fact of the matter: We’re all too caught up in the overly-manufactured nature of social media that we don’t let ourselves embrace our own whimsy. Were humans meant to constantly critique the enjoyment of others? Our favorite cups of tea might not coincide with another’s, but who decided that’s so wrong? It feels like we’re all just brooding nowadays.

_{@wrkhs and @fairygabbana via bernieorbust2k4ever on Reddit}

Millennials, especially in the 2000s and early 2010s, were simply happy to be here. Their hipster essence awakened a certain level of whimsy that previous generations and succeeding generations didn’t and do not possess. Why? Because the preceding Gen X and “Boomer” generations were the poster children for convention. Gen X less so, due to their grunge era—but they still held certain values that millennials rejected. Many millennials identify with the notion that they are the “lost” generation, a collection of misfits who eventually birthed millennial “cringe” culture (which I believe should not be called cringe at all).

Just as soon as the millennial tsunami of acceptance, ascots, mod dresses, and ukuleles came, the millennial culture subsided. Gen Z began embracing stoicism, nihilism, and cynicism; thus, creating a more apathetic generation. Now, policing style for anyone considered “other” is the norm. Which brings us to the weaponization of over-aestheticizing everything.

Are You a Clean Girl, a Soft Boy, or a Cool Girl? An Analysis of Over-Aestheticization

If you didn’t know, there’s a name for everything now.

A “clean girl” wears her hair in a slicked-back bun and always has her nails done. She wears no-makeup-makeup and makes sure she’s always wearing an Apricot-colored Aritzia sweatsuit. 

But if you don’t want to be a “clean girl,” you can always be the “cool girl.” She wears leather jackets and listens to the Arctic Monkeys. The “rockstar girlfriend” makeup look is her go-to, not because TikTok told her to, but because she coined it herself. She doesn’t post on Instagram, but you can see what she’s up to in her tagged photos.

_{littlemoon****** on Reddit}

Oh, you’re not a girl at all? Maybe you’re a “soft boy.” He was in the Spotify top 0.02% of Tyler the Creator fans last year and got a mullet haircut before it was cool. The mustache he’s growing isn’t performative, but representative of his true spirit—and when he’s not talking about himself, he’s talking about how much he enjoyed The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath.

Now, giving the Twee era a name might make me look a bit hypocritical, sure. The difference between an era being given a name years after it was mainstream and naming hyper-specific niche aesthetics as they become popular is this: Everyone is thinking too much about their perception that they can’t possibly be doing things for themselves, but rather for their audience.

Everything is a Carefully Calculated Performance, and It’s Time to Stop

Public approval has always been the goal, but never to this extent. Overthinking about how you are perceived and what aesthetic you want to channel completely removes the actual intention behind whatever aesthetic you’re actually trying to channel. It’s a shame that the world has convinced us we need to exist in a box.

Twee culture, and millennial culture in general, made a point to reject their predecessors because they preached conformity, and millennials wanted to deconstruct that idea. The reason why I look back on Twee culture and the height of millennial culture with such fondness and impersonal nostalgia is because the cringiest thing to be back then was a stick in the mud. Now, that’s embraced. 

The bottom line? Folks need to stop living for everyone else and live for themselves instead. Cringe is good so long as you’re not harming anyone—teeny-tiny mustaches and flower crowns won’t hurt you. Just because you hate it doesn’t mean that it’s bad. Long live cringe, love live Twee, God bless millennials.