Danielle Cohn, the 15-year-old primarily known for her scantily clad selfies who has called herself the “ one of the most hated girls on Instagram,” recently posted a photo on Instagram in a baggy plaid shirt, Birkenstocks, and a puka shell ankle bracelet - a pretty significant pivot from her brand, as well as clear nods to the VSCO girl aesthetic. The patron saint of VSCO girls, YouTuber Emma Chamberlain, has more than 8 million subscribers, while other influencers appear to be actively leaning into it. That said, those who are adept at replicating the aesthetic are, without a doubt, rewarded for their labor on social media. Given how specific the VSCO girl aesthetic is, it’s less something to actively aspire to and more a trope that’s ripe for parody. (Remember the ska kids in high school? That’s an egirl, only with much better hair.)
The egirl aesthetic is both more overtly “alternative” and higher-maintenance than that of the VSCO girl, characterized by winged eyeliner, pastel hair, and a fondness for ahegao, an exaggerated facial expression popularized by Japanese hentai that is meant to mimic an O-face. ( KnowYourMeme, essentially the Talmud for digital culture scholars, traces its origins earlier, to a 2017 story on the app itself in Galore magazine, but for all intents and purposes the actual trope didn’t really acquire a life of its own until earlier this year.) In the current social media ecosystem, they exist almost in direct opposition to egirls, another uniquely Gen-Z female aesthetic that would not exist without social media. Google search data shows that people only really started searching for the term in June 2019. You probably thought scrunchies were over, but let the VSCO girl assure you: they are not, and your belief otherwise is yet another indication that you are almost impossibly decrepit and old.Įven within the context of the hyper-rapid meme cycle, the “VSCO girl” trope has had a relatively brief shelf life. Above all else, she is known for her fondness for scrunchies. (The California-based brand, which was previously best known for drawing immense criticism for its non-inclusive sizing, is now virtually synonymous with the meme given these connotations, it is perhaps not surprising that most VSCO girls are able-bodied and thin, not to mention white.) If she’s of age, she’ll drink her White Claw out of her Hydroflask if she’s well-off, she’ll use Mario Badescu facial spray in her morning skincare routine. She swears fealty to a laundry list of brands, wearing Vans on her feet and Fjallraven Kanken on her back and a Brandy Melville striped tube top on her lithe, tanned torso. And her VSCO photos are often taken from behind, by an unseen boyfriend or husband or gay BFF or less effervescent female friend, who lies in wait till the moment she can wordlessly enter the frame and revel in the sunlight.Ībove all else, like most female archetypes, the VSCO girl can be summarized less by who she is and more by what she buys. Her shirts are adorably baggy, while her shorts are so tiny as to be virtually nonfunctional.
#VSCO GIRLS SKIN#
Her skin glows from the inside, like she just swallowed a radioactive goldfish. Her hair is long and lush and ombre and is either pulled up into a messy bun or effortlessly cascades down her back, impossibly managing to be straight and wavy at the same time. But the VSCO girl meme itself has primarily found a home on platforms like Instagram and TikTok, with the latter boasting 785 million views of the #vscogirl hashtag.Įven if you don’t know what a VSCO girl is, you have undoubtedly encountered one on the internet. Although the app is somewhat less overtly image-obsessed than Instagram, omitting such now-standard social media metrics as likes or follower counts, it’s best known for its gauzy, beach-inspired filters, which has led to it becoming associated with a certain type of breezy, casual, Hollister-esque aesthetic (though no self-respecting aspiring influencer would actually buy Hollister). The phrase “VSCO girl” is an allusion to VSCO, a photo editing and sharing app with about 20 million weekly active users, the majority of whom are under the age of 25. Now, on the precipice of the Year of Our Lord 2020, the latest stereotype used to malign and mock burgeoning teenage female identity is that of the VSCO girl, a meme that originated among teens using the app TikTok that has now infiltrated the mainstream. In the 1980s, it was the Valley girl in the 2010s, it was the basic bitch. Approximately once in a generation (and by generation, we mean news cycle), there emerges a trope that takes the experience of young womanhood - in all its beautiful, maddening, tumultuous, tear-stained glory - and flattens it to the point that it means virtually nothing.