Words by Kayra Hidirlar PZ ’28, Graphic by Genevieve O’Marah SC ’28

You may have seen him before. Maybe he was sipping an iced strawberry matcha with oat milk at a local coffee shop, maybe he was talking about how much he loves women and feminist theory on your Instagram feed, or maybe he was holding up a Sylvia Plath book in front of everyone to show what he is reading. He was also likely wearing a thrifted knitted sweater, the baggiest jorts ever, chunky silver rings, and a carabiner that holds his car keys.

The list isn’t finished. It would be a crime to omit the black loafers with white socks, vintage sunglasses, and a tote bag full of the vinyls of artists, such as Clairo, Beabadoobee, and Faye Webster. This guy is indeed the performative male and he is very hard to miss. 

The question lingers in the air: is this a genuine and authentic form of self-expression or is it all simply an act? 

As social media continues to circulate the guy throughout multiple platforms, the performative male trend has sparked numerous conversations. He is instantly recognizable all over the world, both online and in real life. However, the real topic of discussion is not necessarily what he wears nor what songs he listens to, but rather what this performance reveals: the way feminism has been turned into a costume rather than a set of values. 

To be clear, it is not inherently problematic for men to enjoy fashion, pop culture, and music that don’t fall into traditional standards of masculinity. Some men simply like those aesthetics. In fact, it is important that more and more men feel comfortable to push the boundaries of masculinity and break traditional gender norms. The issue arises when all of these aesthetic choices are done not out of authenticity, but instead out of a goal to present as more “emotionally in-tune” or more “woke” to receive attention from women. That is where the performative aspect comes in.

By dressing a certain way with this specific intention, this kind of “performative feminine softness” becomes weaponized to lower women’s guards, so that they see him as a guy who is more “safe” than other men and understands the hardships that women go through. However, in reality, the only change that occurs is in the wardrobe, not in the way that they treat women in any kind of relationship. As a result, the performative male contributes to a rebranding of the patriarchy – one that is dressed in labubus and thrifted cardigans – making it harder to call out.

In addition, performative males are still upholding patriarchal values by aestheticizing feminism and treating it like an accessory instead of a practice. They make feminism more about their image and how they are perceived rather than about women themselves, which ultimately is still centering male voices and male validation. 

Going on a broader note, these acts that performative males engage in contribute to a societal shift that rewards aesthetics over action. Men are increasingly trying to appear “sensitive” or “politically correct,” rather than authentically advocating for the empowerment of women and other marginalized communities. When we continue to applaud such performances, we contribute to a cycle where male validation is perpetuated, feminism becomes reduced to a set of trendy looks, and sincerity becomes optional.

At the same time, social media has done a successful job in highlighting this cycle in satirical ways. With platforms like TikTok and Instagram turning him into a running joke, he has become a meme that people all over the world have engaged with. People have posted exaggerated impressions of him, such as videos titled “How To Dress Performatively” and “Performative Male Final Boss.” While these posts are hilarious and entertaining to watch, they also call out the faux feminism and shallowness in the act itself through this form of mockery.

Beyond social media, the performative male trend has made its way to college campuses as well.  Students at Pomona College recently hosted one of many performative male contests that involved people competing to see who can best embody the character, as convincingly and ridiculously as possible. This again proves the role in which social media helped make people aware of what the performative male looks like and what his intentions are. By making him the subject of a contest, the students were using humor to point out his aestheticization of feminism that centers the male experience. 

All in all, the performative male is more than just something to laugh at – it is a reflection on the ease of reducing feminism to a costume. Social media has played its role in indicating this by keeping the performative male in the spotlight. Behind the host of quotes from feminist literature novels, the multiple pairs of baggy pants, and the daily matcha orders is a guy who has learned how to soften up patriarchy into a disguise. And it is not the clothes or the music that creates the problem, but rather the performance behind it because at the end of the day, feminism isn’t a tote bag, it’s a practice.