Long gone are the days when the term ‘old money aesthetic’ referred to a searingly predictable rotation of Ralph Lauren jumpers, cream-coloured trousers, modest wrap dresses and ballet flats (all of which, by the way, cost almost half of this month’s rent per piece). Anyone can dress like old money, but not everyone can embody it – are your fingernails kept short and manicured with OPI’s Bubble Bath? Are you learning French, or reading books on art history? Have you queued Sara Jane Ho’s ‘Mind Your Manners’ on Netflix, have you been taking notes? Do you find yourself spending time in overpriced hotel bars, pay-by-hour airport lounges or, if you’re really committed, F1 races?
While ‘aesthetics’ serve as useful tools for fashion and styling inspiration, a whole new level of commitment is introduced when a lifestyle is promoted through a set of curated images and dodgy guides online. An article published by Myra Wealth comparing the behaviours and habits of ‘Old Money vs New Money’ aims to inform the public about the tendencies of the wealthy collective, split into two distinct sub-groups – one more revered than the other. New money is the reckless, impulsive, spendthrift nephew that emerged with millions seemingly overnight and wants the world to know about it. He’s loud, and so is the engine of the lamborghini he had wrapped in 24k gold last Tuesday. Old money, on the other hand, is so inconceivably rich that he’s quiet. This grandfather of generational wealth is stubborn, practical and traditional. Despising the ‘high life’, you’ll never catch him on a flashy mega yacht in Monaco – instead, he prefers to golf, play polo or go sailing; you know, as sophisticated men do.
Aesthetic trends such as ‘old money’ have transcended inspiration and reached aspiration. A feed of pictures on Pinterest, prompted by a search of a niche topic followed by the words “aesthetic” or “core”, opens a gateway of scrutiny for far beyond just fashion – what are the people doing in the pictures, where are they? In other words, what kind of life do they live, and how can we become the sort of people who live that life exactly?
A person who subscribes to RoryGilmore-core (yes, this is a thing) reads on their commute to and from school/work, studies during all downtimes, and is 70% coffee as opposed to water. Would a RoryGilmore girl go to a party on a school night or purchase concert tickets, even if they really, really wanted (and could afford) to do so? Absolutely not! It’s just simply not part of the aesthetic.
There comes a point where this aspiration scaffolds the blueprint for a life that can be far too easily defined. Categorising oneself with the help of labels perpetuated and popularised through aesthetic visuals on social media minimises the struggle of self-identification; a struggle that Gen Z in particular knows all too well. The terms ‘pilates princess’, ‘clean girl’ and ‘coquette girl’, among others, neatly packages the most dominant or aspirational facets of our multifaceted identities into bite-sized concepts that spark recognition in the people we meet as an external idea, rather than honouring our complexities by living authentically and having others appreciate this over time. In other words, when aesthetics are capitalised to create lifestyle guidelines and hence used as a substitute for developing a unique set of interests, hobbies or a personality, we effectively reduce ourselves to arbitrary internet concepts that simply can’t encapsulate the intricacies of being a unique, original human.
The question of why Gen Z has become enraptured by the idea of fully embodying an aesthetic falls down to the paradox of choice. In this digital age of technological advances, increased social awareness and globalisation, among many others, there has never been a generation before them that has experienced the amount of options available for the different facets of their lives – whether that be in how they choose to spend time recreationally, what they spend money on, or even who they date (last one is a bit controversial…you could argue that the quantity of options has unfortunately no correlation to the quality of them).
The volume of choices we have to make everyday overwhelms and ultimately paralyses us from taking action towards discovering who we really are. It’s seen in the way the breadth of majors offered at universities leaves many students questioning what they want to study, or how the emergence of niche roles across various industries makes it harder to set the parameters on what we consider to be the perfect career path. By placing guidelines around how we dress, what music we listen to, how we act and interact with others, even if it is for the sake of an aesthetic, a sense of comfort is established in this feigned sense of self-assurance; we feel like we’re in control. Having a singular thread that strings every aspect of our human-ness together somehow feels more ‘correct’ than being formless and intuitive with our likes and dislikes, which would make us less straightforward to define. In reality, this reliance on external things to define and validate us might just be infringing on our autonomy.
Though a desire for a blueprint may stem from the paradox of choice, aesthetics and related trends also effectively help to alleviate the fear of putting in self-directed effort and having it turn out to be the ‘wrong’ decision in the end. We’re ultimately more likely to follow the limits these categorisations place on us because, even if we don’t end up marrying a long-lost Rothschild or Vanderbilt, the responsibility can comfortably rest on something beyond ourselves.
But listen, buy that mermaid-core skirt, put pink bows in your hair, sign up for that 6am reformer class on a Sunday morning – honouring our natural inclinations towards styles and activities is honouring authenticity. However, as soon as aesthetics turn into a rulebook, a way of living, a subscription to a concept in substitute for embracing one’s multiplicities as a person, it actively denounces the one characteristic that unites everyone, and should be left un-influenced: complexity.
We like what we like! Aesthetics should not be given so much power so as to override personality and suppress originality; you don’t have to bind yourself to being a “___ girl” just because more of those things fall into one category over another.