Aesthetics: Their application, both the literal Merriam-Webster definition sense as well as the colloquial Gen Z sense, is detrimental to the way we consume, shaping our quality of life. In their very nature, aesthetics allow us to blur the lines between reality and art – a line that can be very easily turned into a double-edged sword. It can either inspire us to absorb and perceive the beauty found in small, everyday things or submerge us in the destructively mundane, leading us to compare what we don’t have with those who have it. However philosophical this might initially sound, it’s very easy to observe this phenomenon, almost as easy as it is to monetise it.
Let’s all agree on one thing: art is subjective. Although there might be a consensus that certain pieces of art, like a few well-known paintings, abide by the laws of aesthetics, it is very difficult to get a crowd to unanimously agree that a piece of art is absolutely beautiful. At this point, you might even have to break up a debate on whether the piece in question can be considered art in the first place. This happens because every single person is unique, as are the things in which they find themselves reflected in. The subjectivity of art and its appreciation translates to the inherent subjectivity of what one finds beautiful. Combining these two lines of thought, we quickly conclude that, to decide if a piece of art is indeed art, one has to either find it beautiful or see a piece of oneself expressed through it in some way, thus making it an extensively subjective task.
The aestheticization of everyday life highlights the fact that even the most commonplace forms of consumption can be enjoyable and expressive and that an increasing number of aspects of daily life are subject to the laws of aesthetics. In short, the way that we aestheticise life nowadays has destroyed the appreciation of subjectivity, uniqueness, and authenticity. We have transgressed from finding creative ways to express what makes us different to searching for which “aesthetic genre” we fit into.
It almost sounds like a broken record, but the combination of recent technological advancements and world events (including, but not limited to, pandemics) have made everyone, especially the generations from Gen Z and onward seek a sense of belonging somewhere. The isolation that has highlighted our upbringing has inevitably sent us looking for what will help us connect with those around us and fit in. We value our authenticity, but only to the extent that it helps us connect with people who have the same type of authenticity. In an increasingly lonely world, we purchase the things associated with that genre of authenticity in an attempt to belong in a community through our material possessions.
A very simple example that I fell victim to when I was younger was the “indie aesthetic”, also known to some as the “2014 Tumblr” aesthetic: Doc Martens boots, fishnet tights, bold eyeliner, and an overt obsession with Arctic Monkeys’ AM album were just some of the elements associated with that aesthetic, quickly adorning the walls of my room and the drawers in my closet. A more recent example is “dark academia”, which heavily romanticises the study of philosophy, classical literature, and castle-like university campuses straight out of The Dead Poet’s Society. I could go on forever as the lists and niches are endless: from cottage-core and clean girl to Y2K and grunge, there is no limit to how far these aesthetics can go or just how niche they can get. But doesn’t that, in a way, defeat their purpose?
The aesthetics corner of the internet is no stranger to discourse criticising the specificity of some of those aesthetics or, sometimes, even intense discussions over whether a specific style, music, or other element falls under the umbrella of a specific aesthetic. The oversaturation of internet aesthetics and what they represent is where we come back full circle to the beginning of this article. In our attempt to find (or at times even create) a place to feel like we belong through these internet aesthetics, we are inevitably faced with our innate subjectivity. This should be the wake-up call for our generation to realise what we are so afraid to admit: the only aesthetic we truly fit into is the one we create for ourselves.
So, what does this mean? Does this mean that we need to cancel the concept of aesthetics altogether and hunt it down with fires and pitchforks? Absolutely not. Finding community through shared interests is something precious, and thanks to the internet, it is easier now than ever. What we need to do is understand that, although we might share some interests or traits with other people, our perception and appreciation of the seemingly ‘common aspects’ we have in common might be completely different – and that is not something to hide or avoid just because it does not fit the “aesthetic” we have labelled ourselves with. Don’t switch running for pilates (even though you enjoy the former more) just because you want to fit into the clean girl aesthetic. Don’t break the bank and suffer through blisters from Doc Martens just because you want to fit into the indie aesthetic when you clearly find Birkenstocks more comfortable.
In conclusion, and on a positive, New-Year’s-resolution-y note: embrace all the things that make you belong while also appreciating the things that make you stand out. Because no matter how hard you try to fit into the seemingly correct mould, you will eventually – and authentically – break out of it.
Featured image provided by the author.
