It is 10.15am. I’m waiting for the bus to Douglas Shopping Centre, which is late, but mild mortification prevents me from walking — even if it’s only 10 minutes.
It’s not what a Mob Wife does. Nor is taking public transportation come to think of it. So far, I’m not doing such a great job.
Let me explain. I’m on a mission of sorts — to find out whether TikTok aesthetics are an excuse to play dress-up or an opportunity to explore personal style. The video-sharing app that entertained us during the pandemic with silly dances and banana bread has since evolved into a platform for fast-moving fashion micro-trends or aesthetics, also known as ‘cores’.
Last year, viral buzzwords like Quiet Luxury, Barbiecore, and Coastal Grandma dominated the style lexicon, each with prescriptive pieces to inspire instantly recognisable looks. Perhaps I’m just a disgruntled Gen Xer, but I prefer to choose my own style adventure. Why can’t I be a Quiet Coastal Barbie? Why should the algorithm say what goes? Well, there is only one way to find out.
I’m giving myself a task: to wear three of 2024’s trending aesthetics, each for a day — Mob Wife, Balletcore, and Eclectic Grandpa. I will rate them by what I find most and least appealing, how others react and how confident I feel. Mob Wife I start with Mob Wife — TikTok’s most controversial aesthetic.
A reaction to the beige bloodline of Quiet Luxury, Mob Wife is conspicuous in her consumption: big earrings, big fur, big hair and a big attitude to match. Inspired by Italian mobster wives from television and cinema like The Sopranos’ Carmela Soprano and Scarface’s Elvira Hancock, the core’s increasing popularity has met with backlash, namely accusations of cultural appropriation. In the interests of authenticity, the clothing chosen for each aesthetic comes from my existing wardrobe; nothing was borrowed or newly bought.
For me, Mob Wife is an energy: unapologetic and unbothered by the opinions of others. She owns her glamour: something which I feel I’ve lost since the pandemic. So used to running to the shops in leggings, sneakers and a baseball cap and rarely going out in the evenings, I want to see if I could, perhaps, channel this attitude visually.
I head to the local pub with my sister and niece, wearing a vintage fur coat over my black top and trousers, adding pointy kitten heels, a Pinko chain bag, some gold jewellery, and fear-inducing red lipstick. I don’t have the emotional bandwidth to wear anything higher on my feet. The paranoia of looking like The Joker at the end of the night is enough.
Not that it matters. No one pays me the slightest heed, which is a small mercy on my maiden voyage. I’ll try again tomorrow for a better read, and with a few tweaks.
The following morning, I opt for a wearable nude gloss but spend most of the morning curling my mane into a statement of intent. My first stop is Tesco. Walking to the bus stop, I feel self-conscious in my fur coat and finery.
A Mob Wife wouldn’t care, I tell myself. Glamour doesn’t have a curfew. Twenty minutes and a come-to-Jesus-moment later, I am upstairs at F&F, buying a few holiday bits.
When I go to pay, I can’t see the card reader. I forgot my glasses. I fumble the buttons as my Parkinson’s tremor wakes up.
When the transaction finally goes through, I apologise and scurry off to Insomnia to meet a friend for coffee. When I arrive, I order a camomile tea, find a cosy corner, and remove the teddy bear on my back as I wait for her. It’s like Wonder Woman taking off her tiara.
I’m back to being me — just with bigger hair. Ironically, the more-is-more aesthetic doesn’t have the desired trickle-down effect on my self-confidence, but it did get me outside of my comfort zone — even if that was only down the road. Verdict: 6 out of 10.
Eclectic Grandpa Next up is Eclectic Grandpa (aka ‘grandpa core’). Like Mob Wife, he’s a bit kitschy and wears what he likes — a corduroy jacket, jeans that are a tad too short, a sweater vest and a jaunty hat. Add some retro streetwear, a vintage watch or a tie.
Anything goes. There’s freedom at the core of this core. Not only does it lend an element of bricolage —mismatching fabrics and clashing prints — but it disrupts gender norms in the pursuit of feeling comfy.
I feel most at home with this look, which best reflects my lifestyle and need to be in bed before 10pm. In addition to Grandpa’s capsule, I add a silk scarf and a brooch; along with a lime green messenger bag. That afternoon, I go to the hairdresser and run errands without raising as much as an eyebrow.
I do get compliments on my tweed cap which I post on Instagram, including comparisons to Hozier and the recent Netflix film starring Lindsay Lohan: Irish Wish ‘but in a good way’, or so I’m told. Verdict: 8 out of 10. Balletcore I’m on a city break in Seville when I finish the experiment.
At my height, I’m not sure I can get away with a hair bow and satin skirt with barre flats and an off-the-shoulder top. Neither is my friend Neil. “It’s very Emily in Paris,” he says, unconvinced.
He’s right. Out of all the TikTok aesthetics, balletcore should be the easiest, but its performative nature makes me feel awkward. Plus, there’s no opportunity to make it my own.
Or is there? I change the skirt for a pair of linen trousers and add a rattan bag, tying the bow around the handle. As we walk through the winding alleyways taking photos, I don’t feel dainty or, indeed, like a sugarplum fairy. Sharper separates would improve my mood, but what about the aesthetic? That evening, I wear a blazer over my bare shoulders, switch the linen trousers for a tailored wool pair and lose the bow.
Bingo. I feel like myself again but at the expense of the core, which is now a suggestion rather than a statement. Verdict: 4 out of 10.
The verdict The TikTok aesthetic has the potential to be both a source of inspiration and a means of self-expression. Instead, it derives its power from a combination of elements, which can border on cosplay rather than playing with personal style — except for Eclectic Grandpa, which thrives on customisation and eccentricity. Good man, grandpa.
That’s the beauty of a core: you’ll always find at least one that resonates in the digital maelstrom. The key is not to take things too seriously — it’s only TikTok. Quiet Coastal Barbie will have her moment.
You’ll see..
