The ‘clean girl’ phenomenon - Are the rest of us messy?
- lilyfergusonjourno
- Jul 6
- 9 min read
Updated: Jul 23
My letter:
To my current and future readers of Poised Politics,
I hope my blog finds you well,
Before I get into the nitty-gritty of this week’s article, I would just like to give credit where it is due. This week’s article idea was suggested by my friend Liv, who I wouldn’t have thought of the idea without! She suggested I wrote an article on the new fixation and phenomenon of the ‘clean girl aesthetic’, specifically by social media, and how this obsession encourages overconsumption and how consumerism functions as a marker of class status. And, in turn, how excluding the working class is deemed as culturally legitimate and reproduces class hierarchies. Therefore, for this week’s article, I will dive deeper into this idea and try to expand on this trail of ideas while using my own analysis of Liv’s ideas.
Thank you for all the support! If you enjoy the article, please do subscribe to maintain your weekly dose of Poised Politics.
Enjoy reading.
Xx
What is the ‘clean girl’ phenomenon?
As we emerge halfway into 2026, I believe it may be a good idea to reflect on the good, the bad, and the ‘clean’ of 2026 so far.
The ‘clean girl’ aesthetic has been heavily highlighted on social media as being the most favoured beauty and fashion trend of this year. The clean girl is a woman who wears little to no makeup, loves the dewy, natural and bare‑faced look while still looking flawless. She loves the fashion ‘basics’ like a white spaghetti strap top and a pair of cute jeans, matcha and Pilates is a must. Oh, and she needs to have a sleek ponytail while indulging in both these activities. However, the ‘clean girl aesthetic’ has been around much longer than we may think…

When most of us think of the clean girl aesthetic, we think 2025/2026, but this trend has been around since 2021, perhaps even earlier. The clean girl can be described in a couple of words: heavy consumerism with a minimalist exterior. The whole goal of the ‘clean girl’ is to appear put together without trying too hard - to appear healthy and clean. However, once we dive deeper into this beauty and fashion trend, we will uncover how this aesthetic is the complete opposite of healthy.
The clean girl’s best friend is long‑standing feminine social norms
When you ask a ‘clean girl’ who is her best friend? She most likely will NOT say “oh just feminine social norms, yeah we go way back to when we were in preschool”, she will probably say Emily or Bella (no offence to any Emily’s or Bella’s, your names just popped in my head).
The whole foundation (or tinted moisturiser might be more fitting to the no makeup look) of the ‘clean girl aesthetic’ is to look presentable, to keep up with the trends but not too desperately. But why? Because last time I scrolled on a man’s phone, the last thing I might find is his clean boy aesthetic Pinterest board.
For the record, I don’t believe there is anything wrong with wanting to look presentable, I never leave my house without at least doing my hair and skincare. In fact, I myself do enjoy a basic crop top and a matcha on the side. However, the bone I have to pick with the fixation of the ‘clean girl’ aesthetic is the deep‑rooted misogyny and classism.
Let’s focus on the label of this trend ‘clean girl’. Clean – girl, a girl that is clean. Simple but effective.
First, let’s pick apart the noun ‘girl’. When I made the sarcastic example earlier of a young man having Pinterest boards for the clean boy aesthetic, it probably sounded odd for a man to be calling himself a boy. So why is it different for a young woman (the main age demographic of this trend being ages 18 to late 20s) to call herself a girl which connotes images of youth?
There are two analysis notes I have of why young women refer to themselves as girls, both are quite controversial and purely my own theory.
Theory 1: The economic dependent theory
Young women are often referred to as being girls by the whole of society. Whereas it is less likely for a man in his mid‑20s to refer to himself as a boy, especially in the context of aesthetics and style. I believe this could stem from women being economically dependent on men pre‑1970 (when the Equal Pay Act was introduced in the U.K).
When I hear ‘girl’, I will often think of a female from the ages 1 to 17/18. In casual conversation, when referring to a female child, you will never hear anyone else refer to them as being ‘women’ unless speaking in future tense. Therefore, I immediately associate the word ‘girl’ as a child. Yet, why do women who are independent and above 18 refer to themselves as a word that often connotes children? I believe this stems from society showing the slow gradual impact of cultural change compared to structural. Structural change means instant change in law such as the Sex Discrimination Act of 1975 whereas cultural change is what comes alongside the structural changes which often takes society a long time to accept and adjust to these changes in law. I think it’s painfully obvious to say women are still not deemed equal to men by society globally and this is one example.
Because the majority of women were financially dependent on their husbands only 56 years ago (until the Equal Pay Act 1970), they shared the same economic dependency of most children, unable (by law) to provide as much as the average working man. Therefore, women’s economic dependency was only slightly above a child’s in the economic status hierarchy. So, this means that women being referred to as ‘girls’ could be linked to society’s inability to detach itself from past shared financial status between children and women.
Theory 2 : Ageism
I believe another reason why society keeps referring to women as ‘girls’, especially in terms of aesthetics, is due to deep‑rooted misogyny and ageism towards women.
There has been a recent phenomenon of a boom in the cosmetic surgery industry in terms of Botox and lip filler, especially as some lip filler procedures today can cost only £200 compared to the cheapest in the early 2000s being around £400, this means that cosmetic procedures have become more accessible, even to some of the working class.
This is because women have the uncontrollable desire due to the force of society to look young. As you get older, your lips decrease in size, therefore lip filler makes them look fuller again, like a young girl and Botox removes signs of aging, specifically wrinkles.
But when you really think about it, why would a middle‑aged woman want to look young if you set aside the factors of what society deems as being attractive? No reason at all. Perhaps you could argue it’s to look ‘healthy’, but you can have wrinkles and smaller lips and still be healthy. I acknowledge this may seem harsh and perhaps parts of my theory are flawed but using this analysis and evidence of cosmetic surgery we can understand that perhaps the ‘clean girl’ who is mid‑20s labels herself as a girl instead of a woman due to the want to fit into society’s standards of what a WOMAN should look like to be deemed attractive - a young girl.
Again, as a side note, I do want to add that we are all victims to the patriarchy and societal norms, as I mentioned before, I also use skincare and moisturiser every day in the hopes that it may reduce my chance of getting wrinkles when I am older and there is nothing wrong with wanting to take care of your appearance to feel good about yourself and this doesn’t mean that you are intentionally wanting to look like a young girl, however, my argument is that women describing themselves as a ‘clean girl’ instead of a ‘clean woman’ can be explained by the impossible expectations of society to be youthful, specifically on women.
The clean girl’s second best friend? Capitalism.
If feminine social norms built the foundation of the clean girl aesthetic, then capitalism decorated the house.
After all, why does society encourage these beauty standards?
Because capitalism profits from them.
It sounds like an oversimplification, but when we break it down, it begins to make much more sense. The clean girl aesthetic presents itself as minimalism. It tells women they only need the “basics”; a simple wardrobe, natural makeup and healthy glowing skin. Yet, ironically, achieving this “effortless” appearance often requires buying far more products than the average full face of makeup ever did.
One serum becomes three. One moisturiser becomes a morning moisturiser, a night moisturiser and an overnight mask. Suddenly you need a gua sha, silk pillowcases, collagen powder, Stanley cups, Pilates memberships, protein yoghurts, expensive matcha, slick‑back wax sticks, designer trainers and “capsule wardrobe” essentials that somehow cost hundreds of pounds.
Minimalism has become one of capitalism’s most successful marketing strategies. The clean girl aesthetic does not reject consumerism but simply disguises it.
Looking expensive without saying you’re expensive.
The clean girl aesthetic also quietly transforms wealth into a personality trait. When we picture the stereotypical clean girl, we rarely imagine someone rushing between two minimum wage jobs or finishing a twelve‑hour shift. Instead, social media presents women with endless videos of twenty‑minute skincare routines, 7 a.m. Pilates classes, homemade matcha and leisurely trips to expensive grocery stores. The message is subtle but powerful. Looking healthy becomes associated with having money. Looking organised becomes associated with having time. Looking “clean” becomes associated with having privilege.
Pierre Bourdieu would argue this is an example of cultural capital. Certain lifestyles become symbols of status, allowing the middle and upper classes to distinguish themselves from everyone else. It is no longer enough to simply own expensive things; you have to consume in the “correct” way.
Ironically, the clean girl aesthetic claims to be attainable for everyone while quietly requiring the exact resources that many people simply do not have.
The working class are expected to compete in a game they never designed.
This is where I believe the clean girl aesthetic becomes particularly unfair.
The average person in the working class is more likely to work longer hours, have less disposable income and experience greater financial insecurity than those with higher incomes. Yet social media expects everyone to present the exact same polished appearance.
A woman working an eight‑hour shift followed by caring responsibilities at home is being compared to influencers whose full‑time occupation is filming themselves making iced matcha and applying skincare.
One has time because it is literally her job. The other barely has enough time to eat dinner. Yet somehow society judges them by the same beauty standards. The issue is not that one woman enjoys Pilates while another cannot afford it. The issue is that one lifestyle becomes morally superior.
Somehow drinking an £8 matcha instead of instant coffee has become evidence of discipline. Having naturally glowing skin becomes evidence that you “look after yourself”. Wearing expensive neutral clothing becomes evidence of having your life together.
But these are not moral achievements instead they are often financial.
Capitalism cannot sell contentment.
One thing capitalism relies upon is dissatisfaction. If every woman woke up tomorrow genuinely believing she was beautiful exactly as she was, entire industries would lose billions. The beauty industry, skincare industry, cosmetic surgery industry, fashion industry and even parts of the wellness industry all depend upon convincing women that they are almost perfect but never quite enough.
Your skin is clear… but imagine it even clearer. Your wardrobe is nice… but imagine it more timeless. Your body is healthy… but imagine it more toned.
The goalposts are constantly moving because capitalism cannot profit from women who feel satisfied. It profits from women chasing an ideal that was designed to remain just out of reach.
The clean girl aesthetic isn’t really about being clean. Perhaps the biggest irony of this entire trend is that it has very little to do with cleanliness. Nobody needs £70 skincare, monthly facials or a wardrobe full of beige linen to be hygienic. The word “clean” has quietly shifted from describing health to describing status. It has become another way of separating women into categories.
The clean girl.
The messy girl.
The classy girl.
The lazy girl.
And, unsurprisingly, those categories often overlap with class.
Women who can afford expensive beauty routines are celebrated for their discipline, while women who cannot are sometimes unfairly labelled as not making enough effort. The reality is far simpler. Many people are not lacking discipline. They are lacking time, money and opportunity. Those are structural inequalities, not personal failures.
Conclusion
Ultimately, the clean girl aesthetic is far more than a passing social media trend. It reflects a wider culture in which appearance, consumption, and social status have become increasingly intertwined. While there is nothing inherently wrong with enjoying fashion, skincare, or self-care, it becomes more problematic when these are presented as universal standards that are only realistically achievable through continuous spending.
As a result, consumerism becomes disguised as self-improvement, reinforcing class divisions by rewarding those with the financial means to participate while excluding those who cannot. Perhaps the most concerning aspect is that these inequalities are often hidden beneath the language of wellness, discipline, and simplicity. What appears to be an effortless lifestyle is, in reality, frequently dependent on significant economic privilege. This normalises the idea that success, beauty, and even morality can be bought, further reproducing existing social hierarchies. As consumers, we should ask ourselves whether we are making choices because they genuinely reflect our values, or because algorithms and marketing have convinced us that buying more is the path to becoming ‘better’. Recognising the difference is the first step towards resisting a culture that increasingly measures worth through consumption.
Thank you for reading this week’s edition of Poised Politics. If you enjoyed this article, I’d love for you to subscribe and join me again next week as we continue to unpack the political and sociological issues shaping our everyday lives.
Written by Lily Ferguson
6th July 2026
Poised Politics
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