The Gen-Z Bimbo: Taking Control of Patriarchal Standards or Pandering to Them?
By Isobel Knight
The modern-day ‘bimbo’ goes against everything the word has connoted in previous generations. Instead of ditzy, silly, and shallow, she is politically engaged and sexually liberated – an empowered woman who dresses and acts exactly as she pleases.
Yet, to someone who is not in the know, it appears that the bimbo look hasn’t particularly changed over time. Despite efforts made in the community to increase inclusivity, the beauty standard idolised is not exactly new. Thin, white, blonde women – such as 00s and 90s icons Paris Hilton, Britney Spears and Elle Woods – are now inspirations to a new generation of young girls. But is this trend as empowering as TikTok claims or a dangerous step back?
When singer Billie Eilish appeared on the front cover of British Vogue debuting her new look – blonde hair and a pink corset, as opposed to her signature baggy clothes – it was heralded as empowering, a young woman showing her body on her own terms. It was more than a photoshoot; it sparked a debate on beauty standards, womanhood, femininity, and how Gen-Z women are interacting with these issues.
Eilish herself has said: ‘It’s all about what makes you feel good’, and ‘I feel more like a woman, somehow.’ It’s hardly surprising that Eilish feels good dressed in a gorgeous Mugler bodysuit or a custom Gucci corset that reflects an ideal of womanhood that has existed for hundreds of years, with the singer herself admitting that part of the appeal was how it hid her insecurities. That anyone would see her as a perpetrator of the patriarchy, as opposed to a victim of it, is absurd.
Everything women do is politicised. We cannot win when it comes to fashion: women who dress modestly are called prudes, whilst women who dress in a revealing manner are slut-shamed and seen as vacuous and shallow, even being accused of putting themselves at risk of violence. In a world where we cannot please anyone, why not just do precisely what pleases ourselves?
The question of why dressing in a hyper-feminine way makes so many women feel so good is perhaps beside the point. Teen girls are criticised mercilessly for whatever they choose to do, and the discourse surrounding our actions can become exhausting when we are often just trying to enjoy ourselves. Female beauty standards were created long before any young women today were born and being called out for adhering to them seems bizarre.
The male gaze is as old as society itself, making it entirely impossible to know how women would dress or present themselves without the influence of men. And yet, it is undeniable that fashion is so much more than a reflection of societal standards. The blueprint for womenswear may originate from male sexual desire, but the art that has come from it since is not.
It is creative expression, an art form in its own right. To centre women’s fashion around male desire is crude and reductive; yes, men may be attracted to it, but that is far from its purpose or appeal for most women. In a world where many heterosexual men could not differentiate between whether a corset is Vivienne Westwood or Shein, it is laughable to claim women dress solely for male approval.
Part of the issue is the age-old demonisation of femininity. Women who participate in hyper-femininity, glamour or plastic surgery are seen as less worthy than those who do not. A trend alongside ‘Bimbo-Tok’ is the increasing number of men on TikTok who spend hours and hours in the gym to build a certain physique.
The lack of criticism online is astounding. People seem content with their insistence that they are doing it for their own personal improvement, and even if these men do admit their goal is to attract women, this is met with understanding rather than calls of promiscuity. It’s a double standard not new to any woman, yet the stark contrast is alarming. If women do want to dress a certain way to attract men, why is this not allowed?
Perhaps the most glaring issue with the bimbo movement and similar trends is its focus on aesthetics, which has led to a resurgence of dangerous body standards which are shared around the internet through Pinterest boards and TikTok edits. Trends such as ‘balletcore’, ‘y2k’, and ‘indie sleaze’ often glamourise an unhealthily thin body and lack the diversity that has been fought so hard for in recent years. Nostalgia reigns in a time of such intense uncertainty, and this can lead to a yearning for a less politically correct or complicated time.
The increased discourse around the ‘trad wife’ movement is another example of women choosing to live their life according to patriarchal expectations if they so please. Merely existing in the 21st century is exhausting; the endless debates online and the Western insistence on hustle culture places such a strain on the mind that it is hardly surprising people are turning to the soul (through astrology or tarot) or to the body and its physicality (through cooking, crocheting or fashion).
The philosophy of the Gen-Z bimbo is far from perfect. In fact, it seems contradictory in more ways than one, and only time will tell how harmful it may be. Yet the society we live in is also deeply imperfect. As a young woman growing up amidst capitalist hustle culture, hyper materialism, tabloid news, social media, global uncertainty and sexualisation from a young age, it feels like a huge relief to simply dress up and have fun.