Cultural Phenomenon: How the Conjunction of TikTok and Isolation Has Given Birth to a Wave of New Styles
by Ellie Connor-Phillips
Graphic by Jas Calcitas
“All yours ... babooshka, babooshka, babooshka!”
I find myself humming Kate Bush whilst sitting down at my desk to write. It isn’t really an abnormal occurrence, however, this time Babooshka has not seeped into my brain from Spotify, or my record player, or a documentary on TV, but instead through its constant use as a sound on the ridiculously popular app TikTok. I swore I wouldn’t download it: watching kids half my age film dances on a freezing Dorset beach last January, it seemed like something I was far too old and bitter for. But, of course, that was before COVID-19 changed everything.
Before I knew it, we were in total lockdown, something so totally unfathomable to many of us who had depended on leaving the house for work, studying, groceries, shopping, socialising...everything. And, despite my belief that it wasn’t really my thing, I downloaded TikTok (as did 115 million others in March 2020). I was immediately indoctrinated into its world of sounds and duets, dances and trends; I couldn’t stop watching. There is good reason TikTok is one of the most popular apps across the globe at the moment — it has a careful algorithm that changes so quickly, yet is easy to adapt to your preferences, which makes it easy to always see new and interesting content while staying within the niche parts of it you wish to remain in. Each little branch of content has a name —there’s FrogTok, for videos of and about frogs and frog themed things; BreadTok, for bread making; even WonkaTok, for videos by someone dancing dressed as Willy Wonka. Really, there is something for everyone. There’s even a distinction between straight and gay TikTok; LGBTQIA+ users of the app frequently joke about clicking on a few of the wrong videos and “ending up on straight TikTok by accident”. It’s a really bizarre and yet utterly spellbinding app, with just so much content to consume and not enough hours in the day to get through it al
One of the things that is so exciting about its 2020 surge in popularity is the fact that it has been driven by, and coincided with, the lockdowns and periods of isolation. This has created a really fascinating cultural phenomenon which seems to have led to the birth of a whole new wave of fashion styles and subcultures, something which I truly didn’t think I would ever get to witness. It seems that due to the combination of being unable to go outside, and the constant stream of visual information from all over the world, TikTok has inspired many people to liven up their lockdown by experimenting with their style. Some are sampling different styles they have always wanted but never been able to try; some are creating new styles from scratch; some are finding others who dress similarly and forming trends, and others are just taking their usual style to the next level as they have more time and less constraints.
These styles are not just trends that exist in day to day life, but internet aesthetics: “a visual heavy concept that is grouped around a consistent theme, repeated imagery, and a particular colour palette — and might show up in things like fashion choices, Tumblr photosets, Pinterest boards, or even offline activities and pastimes which are then recorded and displayed back online.” Tumblr and Instagram have been known to cultivate these sorts of internet aesthetics. However, I would bet that neither has created so many so quickly and with as high a turnover as TikTok has. One of the most well known examples is cottagecore, an aesthetic based around countryside dwelling, crafting, baking, plants, flowers, wildlife, mushrooms and being at one with nature in a slower pace of life. It soared in popularity in April last year, mostly fueled by queer people creating an almost mythical realm on the app. Instead of the usual narrative of yearning for times gone by that often comes hand-in-hand with nostalgic styles and subcultures, they purposefully chose to set these visions of the future in the potential nearly-now: giving us a glimpse of what life could be like in a non-capitalist, eco-friendly, LGBTQIA+ inclusive setting. There is no naiveté in this decision: through videos of polymer clay sculpting and plant foraging, cottagecore content creators are designing a new imagined visual landscape that is subtly, yet steadfastly, defiant against the marginalisation of certain groups, and the destruction of our planet.
Cottagecore overlaps with several other styles and aesthetics, including mushroomcore, goblincore, grandmacore, “dark academia” and fairycore, but these are truly only the tip of the iceberg. Take a deep dive into TikTok and you will find so many aesthetics, from the more well-known “e-girl’”style with pink blush noses and a blend of y2k influences, emo and scene kid references, to the more unusual clowncore, which overlaps with kidcore, rainbowcore and neoncore. Then, there are the catboys, catgirls and bunnygirls, softgirls — there is even “light academia,” and royalcore — probably heavily inspired by the many period dramas that have been released recently). Oh, and a personal favourite — vampirecore. I’m sure you can guess what that one is. There is also space for existing and historical subcultures, from Skins teaching the younger generations about lace code, to Punks demonstrating what hairspray is best to hold a mohawk, to Goths doing Outfit of the Day videos to the sound of Depeche Mode’s Enjoy the Silence. The vast majority of these styles and the videos that have popularised them have connections to the younger generation, and the LGBTQIA+ community — not to say that everyone who engages with these trends or identifies as being part of one of these internet aesthetic subcultures is queer, but a large percentage do appear to be. A lot of these styles also have references to historical queer fashion, and pull inspiration from looks that generally are seen mostly within the queer community, even if the wearer is not LGBTQIA+ themselves, such as looks that play with traditionally gendered clothing.
Whilst TikTok clearly is responsible for the exponential growth of the popularity of these styles, it is not their creation in itself that is so unusual, or exciting. The thing that I am so fascinated by is how lockdown and isolation have played into the natural influence that TikTok has had over its users' lives: how this combination of environmental factors and the app itself has led to a once-in-a-lifetime set of circumstances that has generated possibly more new trends and subcultures at once than anything before ever has, as well as changing the way people dress and present themselves to the world, forever.
One of the trends I noticed that made me think about writing this article was a type of video I have seen produced frequently on TikTok, by many different people with different styles. It involves the individual showing the viewer how they used to dress vs how they dress now — with the suggestion that in the present day they have more confidence and are presenting themselves as their true self. Usually the fashion sense of the person featured is more defined or more extreme, or sometimes the videos also depict non-binary or transgender people showing how they are now more free to wear gender-affirming outfits. After watching a few of these, I realised that many of these people, particularly those who were showing a new change in their style, were perhaps more able to try these new looks specifically because of lockdown. One of the most common reasons people tone down their outfits or sense of style is to avoid drawing attention to themselves in public, as this could cause bullying if they attend school, harassment in the streets or even incite violence in others in the worst cases. This shouldn’t be the case, but more often than not, it is; I don’t want to have to put a long coat over my outfit when I’m going out clubbing, but the fact is that I will get harassed by men on my journey if I don’t. TikTok, for me, seems to be a glimpse into this world where everyone is safe to express themselves however they want without the threat of physical violence — whoever that could be from. It seems evident that from the safety of isolation, from their own homes, people are able to play dress up like never before, a game with no limits and no dangers that normally would hold them back. For people who still attend school, they can reinvent themselves without having to answer questions from their peers about it, and without having to face situations of bullying, especially if they are LGBTQIA+ and maybe more at risk if bullying already in some school environments. For LGBTQIA+ people in general, and adults, not having to go outside or travel takes away the risk of violence so many of us face on a daily basis. Whether that is misogyny, homophobia, transphobia, or a vile combination of them all, being inside can mean a safe place to express yourself. This isn’t to say everyone’s homes are safe, or that queer people are safe online — we all know how quickly a flood of abuse can hit if your content is picked up by the wrong people. However, it does seem that TikTok is cultivating communities of people dressing up in their bedrooms, who are able to hit the “block” button pretty easily to curate their online space.
Even for those of us who were quite visually expressive and extreme with our style before lockdown, the gravitational pull towards more outlandish looks can be felt more than ever. The limits of practicality are smaller now we don’t have to go outside, and there is just so much inspiration online with people sharing cool shops and designers, creators and artists — it’s hard not to end up coming out of this strange time as a more extreme version of the person you entered it as. Plus, being inside constantly is incredibly tiresome at times, and so the serotonin gained from dressing up needs to be even more than usual — often resulting in even bigger looks. Lockdown has not only encouraged a lot more of us to turn to TikTok as a source of entertainment, but given us space to act on the inspiration it gives us, in a way Tumblr users would never have experienced. During Tumblr’s peak use, many teens kept their accounts secret from school friends, especially if they weren’t super famous or had a very niche blog theme. Also, a lot of people were able to be anonymous and out as LGBTQIA+ online, but might not have been out at school yet. For TikTok users, they aren’t going to be around school friends for a long time — and since the algorithm makes getting engagement easier compared to other apps — even when they do return to the classroom, it’s likely their content would be considered cool. Lockdown is also simply just more incubation space for developing styles: a space for everyone to try new things without their peers having to witness the teething stages.
This not only is a window into the homes of everyone isolating at home, but also a glimpse into what the world could look like post-COVID-19 (not that that feels like it will come anytime soon) and a glimpse at how this last year has changed way more than just our day to day lives, but our entire culture and how we dress and express ourselves. The introspection occurring in quarantine combined with the sheer boredom and longing for times gone by is pushing people to really discover who they are or want to be, and BE it. Now. There is a sense of urgency, something before 2020 most younger generations had never really felt. We now know there is no time to waste as every second counts, we should dress how we want every minute, and be our authentic selves whenever possible. This will definitely trickle down into daily life once the outside is somewhere we are allowed to go again, and I truly think this resurgence of opulence, extreme beauty and over-the-top style isn’t going to disappear for a while. I wonder also if this rise in the number of alternative and unusual trends will set into motion a bandwagon effect, not just of new trends and subcultures continuing to pop up, but also the number of people participating in and joining in with them — which will be interesting as currently, alternative subcultures are centred around themes of non-conformity. If these increasingly become the norm, we’ll probably also see a rise in normcore as a way to counter that. I am genuinely so excited to see people revelling in style in ways they haven’t for decades — seeing subcultures like emo come back, and this time all with more acceptance and respect. Whilst in the real world, we still have a long way to go in terms of creating safe spaces for everyone regardless of gender, sexuality, or visual self-expression, inside and online we seem to be getting closer to creating a vibrant and diverse landscape of subcultures that inspire and overlap each other, that hopefully will in turn feed back into a more accepting and visually interesting day-to-day life outside. I am ready and waiting for when all these creative and inspiring individuals can come out of their bedrooms and onto the streets.