Pop on your slouchy beanie, slip on your Docs and blast My Chemical Romance - because we're taking a little trip down memory lane. Specifically, the years between 2010 and 2014.
Your favourite shows are Gossip Girl and Skins. You want to look like Serena. You love everything about Effy.
You spend approximately all of your spare time on Tumblr and Facebook. You take moody, glassy-eyed selfies sitting in your dark bedroom. You frantically search for nonsensical quotes and deep and meaningful lyrics that'll prove you're feeling a LOT of things right now.
Then, you wait.
And soon enough, the likes and reblogs start to roll in.
Watch: Speaking of which - here are some banished beauty trends from the '90s. Post continues below.
It's a very different time to 2022.
... Or is it?
Because it looks like all things associated with the era of Tumblr are making a comeback, and the resurgence is dragging with it a bunch of heavy implications - the resurrection of 'performative sadness' being one of them.
In case you missed it, 'sad girl' beauty is all over TikTok, and experts are saying that while it's perhaps a reflection of what's happening in the real world post-pandemic, faking sadness is layered with issues.
Just take a look at TikTok's viral makeup trend - dubbed “crying makeup”. That is, makeup that makes it look like you’ve been crying.
Yes. We are now doing our makeup to make us look sad when we may not in fact be sad.
What is the 'crying makeup' trend?
'Crying girl makeup' was originally pitched by content creator and makeup artist Zoe Kim Kenealy from the US, who made a tutorial about how to look like a sad girl - like you've been crying.
It had 130 million views.
She refers to it as a makeup tutorial “for the unstable girlies” to achieve the look of crying “if you’re not in the mood to cry”.
@zoekimkenealy #greenscreen crying makeup look tutorial 😅 Can I go as a crying person for Halloween or is that not a thing #cryingmakeup #tearmakeup #cryingeyes #makeupforhalloween ♬ Show Me How (Album V) - Men I Trust
She starts by creating “that puffy, soft lip” with some lip liner and lip gloss, before applying a heap of cream blush over her eyes, under her eyes and on her cheeks and nose.
There's some liquid glitter to recreate "the glisten in our eyes", and some shiny balm to literally mimic... a trail of snot running down your cupid's bow.
One follower commented, “I want to look like I’m pretty crying all of the time."
Another said: "The soft weep but ethereal.”
'Crying makeup' is part of the broader trend called 'sad baiting'. And yes - trends come and go. They always have, always will.
But this one feels different.
'Crying girl makeup' is finding beauty in fake sadness, and it signifies a resurgence of all the toxic implications of a past era - with the glamorisation of depression at its core.
Why is 'crying makeup' so popular?
A recent episode of Mamamia Out Loud discussed the 'crying makeup' trend, pointing out the recent popularity of celebrities sharing candid teary photos.
In particular, there's supermodel Bella Hadid - who recently shared several photos depicting her in bed, hair messy, eyes red and puffy, with tears spilling down her cheeks.
Mamamia Out Loud host Jessie Stephens said, "She didn't kick-start it, but she's part of this influencer/celebrity trend."
"The caption will usually read almost identical to this: 'My life might look good. But I still feel anxiety and sadness. Here are 11 photos of me crying very prettily. Give me empathy, you are not alone, everyone struggles', etc., etc."
"It becomes a performative vulnerability."
However, as Mia Freedman argues, there can also be a communal aspect to it - with shared sadness and trauma reminding you that other people feel the same way.
"There is authenticity in saying 'yes, sometimes I cry.' Everybody cries. If you cry, it's not just you," she said.
Mia goes on to share, "I was at a very, very dark low point in my life where I was feeling so distressed. I took a photo of my face - and it was puffy and I was crying - I didn't post it. But I wanted a record of it because I didn't know how else to capture the depths of what I was feeling."
Bella, who is now 26-years-old, has previously opened up about battling depression and anxiety when she was a teenager.
So then, could this overly candid sharing of deep and personal moments be seen as more than merely seeking validation and attention?
"It could be an attempt to externalise or physically depict something that is invisible," explains Jessie.
Layered over the prevalence of celebrity vulnerability on social media, is the current resurgence of everything to do with the early noughties - from fashion to beauty and everything in between.
If you’ve been on TikTok recently, you’d know that it's all about the revival of the 'indie sleaze', 'original hipster' look.
It's messy hair and messy makeup. It's beanies, black ankle-length leggings with dresses worn over the top. It's ripped tights, oversized band tees and platform shoes.
When you look back at this era, characters like Jenny Humphrey and Serena Van Der Woodsen from Gossip Girl, and Cassie Ainsworth and Effy Stonem from Skins come to mind. They were the fictional icons we all wanted to be.
As producer Mikayla Floriano shared on the You Beauty podcast, "I was 13, I was on Tumblr and you better believe I was watching Gossip Girl."
"My favourite character was Serena, obviously, 'cause I wanted to be her and in hindsight, it was for her looks - which was the way others idolised her. My other favourite show at this time was Skins. My sister loved it and we had it on DVD - and my favourite character was Cassie. I loved the way she dressed. Everything she wore, I wanted."
"But as an adult, if you’ve seen either of these shows you’d know that both of these characters were deeply traumatised. Something I didn’t truly understand in my teen years."
"They’d often be seen crying, hair a little messy but only in an 'I look perfect when I cry' kind of way, with mascara running under their eyes. Their sad girl aesthetic was glorified. Pretty girls who are mentally unwell, who would be hounded by men but yet unwell enough to have to seek retreat off screen."
With shows like Euphoria showcasing characters like Cassie Howard who struggle with similar narratives, the 'sad girl' aesthetic and this commodification of female frailty still seem to be very much alive on screen. And the ramifications of this are deeply unsettling.
Why the glamorisation of sadness is a problem.
Fredrika Thelandersson is a postdoctoral researcher in media and communications studies at Sweden’s Lund University. She studies online girl cultures and communities and is also the author of a book called 21st Century Media and Female Mental Health.
In an interview with the Guardian, Thelandersson describes the glamorisation of sadness like this: “In the current landscape, celebrities and brands want to have authenticity, to appear real,” she said.
“One way to do this is to disclose a diagnosis or reveal a trauma. It’s literally profitable to show some kind of vulnerability.”
She explains that this then filters down to TikTok - a platform with approximately one billion users worldwide - which hazes and dilutes very real and very serious psychological terminology.
“Dissociation is a symptom of PTSD, and now it’s being picked up as an aesthetic,” she said.
“This says a lot about how people are not doing so well right now and need support, and social media becomes the place where they can find what they wouldn’t get from a traditional healthcare system.”
This is particularly true when you look at the data on the mental health of Gen Z post-pandemic.
Gen Z has obviously grown up with a very different experience of the world than previous generations. This has also brought with it increased psychological concerns - especially off the back of the COVID pandemic.
In comparison to previous generations, studies show that Gen Z is more likely to report mental health concerns.
More than nine in 10 Gen Z adults (91 per cent) said they have experienced at least one physical or emotional symptom because of stress, such as feeling depressed or sad.
As Mia Freedman talked about before, sharing these feelings online can not only give people a sense of validation and confirmation about how they're feeling, but also a sense of community.
As Thelandersson goes on to say, “Maybe it is performing sad feelings, but there is a communal aspect when you realise that other people are feel the same way, and that’s a sort of belonging."
But it's complex.
Because while depicting these emotions on platforms like TikTok may harbour a sense of community and connection, at the same time it can seriously undermine or trivialise very serious health issues.
While it's a good thing that people are more aware of mental health and psychological illnesses than they were in the early noughties, it can also be argued that normalising it on screen and on social media makes it feel diluted and flat.
In fact, it almost makes light of the realities of living with a mental illness - pushing it into just another 'aesthetic' people are striving to be a part of.
Makeup trend or not - in 2022, are we really still doing that?
What are your thoughts on the 'crying makeup ' trend? Share them in the comment section below.
Feature image: Tiktok/@zoekimkenealy
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