The Ultimate Performance: What is Beauty in a World Where Social Media Dominates
“Artists point to the Rubenesque female bodies of the bodies of the seventeenth century as an example of how fat bodies were once the beauty ideal” says Tressie McMillian Cottom in her essay “In the Name of Beauty”. Cottom is not wrong to call on the idolization of female bodies in this way at one point in time to strengthen her claim to White Western history and its rather racially exclusive beauty standards. Her claim also interrogates the very structures that female bodies were sculpted from, questioning whether or not they hold value to the oppressed groups who were secluded from these sculptings. A similar, but more present day example that comes to mind when applying this theme is the 2026 Met Gala, that of which highlighted a fashion theme of “Fashion is Art” — a theme where top model Kendal Jenner and her internet famous sister Kylie Jenner showcased what they thought portrayed female bodies. The irony here is that there is no true understanding of the prejudices that play out when casting these figures as “fantasical” as they are. While literally, they wear the couture in extremely unrealistic bodies, sculpted by plastic surgery only top tax brackets can access, and designers whom no lower class can buy from because they exclusively sell to those of similar stature – both physically and economically. Fashion is art, but the fashion here is not sold as art but an image of white western history and access; the beauty standard on display here still resolves the same patriarchal logic underneath the couture: a woman’s body as spectacle, valuable insofar as it can be looked at, desired, and consumed by others — the wealth and surgery are just the modern instruments of an old demand. Instead of portraying a thought-provoking message, the followers of such women are led to believe this — a body sculpted by wealth and only performable by the wealthy — is the beauty standard: not simply an aesthetic, but a reassertion that a woman’s worth is still measured by how desirable, how consumable her body can be made to a watching public.
There is a clear difference between gender norms and sex norms — sex norms being the sexuality a person has, the preference in attraction both sexually, emotionally, physically, etc. The performance of gender is what I am referring to, not the performance in sexuality, because in no way is it truly normalized to appeal to a specific sex in the way that it is to appear a specific gender. Gender operates on a different scale, one that is determinant of societal placement, specifically positioning women at an either a place of desire or not. Like Cottom also says, the social hierarchies are determinants of beauty, but they are also rarely going as far as to challenge the supremacy of white women. This brings back the notion of female bodies, the sculptures that specifically highlight the physical appearance of white women; through time evolving into a less attainable and pragmatic body type. With figures such as the Jenners representing a fragment of the world with unattainable wealth and power, they are so far from fathoming the depth behind the figures they are representing, only furthering the narrative of superior white female beauty. It is a rather unconscious thing, perhaps due to the lack of intellect that this specific group of media influencers now hold over popular culture. Social trends set through media platforms such as Instagram and Tik Tok portray only the most unattainable and unrealistic of standards, highlighting the difference of class, race, age, religion, and gender. Through examination of social media trends and trend-setters, I will address the ways in which patriarchal gender norms get reproduced from the influencer to the one consuming their content—in ways that might not appear so obvious—challenging the ways in which beauty standards are shaped.
True beauty is the narrative of an honest person—an authentic person, original in their existence— it lies in the messages or conversations they have with those around them, whether it be in real time or through social media. Today, you almost have to explicitly say where you stand politically, admit to your mistakes along with the lessons learned from them, and have a stream of consciousness relative to an earned education or an open mind. Where this becomes visible is between the surface level image and the reality behind it; what experience can be equated to the message or brand or lifestyle shown. The manipulation of matter can make the images and experience seem so aspirational when behind it is opposite to that, far from reality, in fact, dishonest. Social media does not capture true beauty because it inherently follows this phenomenon; the women running their platforms in these ways do not capture the trueness that lies beneath them, and instead they portray themselves in a curated way in hopes of being perceived. Although, this perception is an illusion, as it allows for the perpetuation of patriarchal standards—as done so by them—validating the idea that worth is equated with the perception of others and particularly men. It is no longer a girl competing with another girl for who has the prettiest instagram feed, it goes deeper than that: desire to be perceived, to be chosen, saved by a man, which is made apparent by the flawless content. Thus, this is not beauty but a rather anti-intellectual chase for external validation—given their status and access—and what they believe they must prove as a woman. In this case, authenticity does not pose any discomfort, any originality because it follows the structure of another — one that is inherently unfair to all women.
Jean-Luc Godard, who produced many films in the French New Wave, one of them being Masculin Feminin, had highlighted the fast-paced culture that surrounded the younger generation, a result of Marx and Coca Cola industry, all consumer based and all fast paced. In the end of that particular film, one of the main protagonists notes “poll answers reflect an ideology that reflects not present more but those of the past…to have conscience is to be open to the world.” This may be true, but only to an extent — that the world of 1965 was not at a point of extremely digestible content, consumerism that resulted in instantaneous gratification all thanks to social media. In the context of 2026, the collective mind is reflective of the present only, as there is no conscience of the past or an openness to it. Disillusion drives the absoluteness of younger generations today, as if there isn’t even a message for the content posted other than pure aesthetic. That is not to say that posting something without meaning doesn’t negate what is voiced otherwise, but when the content is purely physical, purely avoidant of the crucial social events taking place around the world, it is feminist issues, gender roles, patriarchal standards most evident in the totality of one’s content. A picture cut and edited to perfection is not real, but a representation of the disillusion of just how intertwined social media is with gender norms—representing only the harm that drives women to injustice.
Creators with big platforms, which is a primary focus for this examination, often uphold the same patriarchal standards when thinking they are combatting it. A prime example of this is through female creators, who hold far larger platforms than male creators. Whether or not these online personalities were built through social media or outside of it is beside the point; I would like to focus on how the platforms they have curated feed into the patriarchy and gender roles through their rhetoric and aesthetic. Social media personalities that best come to mind are female wives and girlfriends, aka WAGs, as they often have an active but still highly veiled online presence in regards to what they decide to post and what not to. Alexandra Leclerc, formerly known as Alexandra Saint Mleux, is one of the more prominent WAG figures in current time, as she is married to the Formula 1 driver Charles Leclerc, and attends almost every race of the year. It is the very right of every woman to be able to choose which products they use, clothes they wear, posts they post, and people they support; it is also the responsibility of every woman to be aware of the message she sends when posting something that gestures toward divine femininity. To be clear, this critique is not of Leclerc's character, kindness, or personal morals — she has her own individuality, her own campaigns and passions, and none of that is in question here. What is in question is the ethics of the imagery itself: what the aesthetic, independent of the woman producing it, ultimately communicates to the women consuming it.
According to Helen Cixous, it is to write and to speak to be able to realize the decensored relation of women to their sexuality, giving her access to her native strength. She writes in her essay “The Laugh of the Medusa” that a woman is reduced to being a servant of the militant male, his shadow, arguing that we must kill this false woman preventing the live one from breathing by inscribing the breath of the whole woman. It is through this analogy where a woman is not whole unless she attempts to uncover her trueness in voice, free will, and constraint to the male in any space that allows for it. This is true within social media: women are obliged to, as Cixous says, “physically materialize what she’s thinking; signifying it with her body”. A woman’s representation of body, negates the voice she has, the grounds she stands on, and the personality she has — but the only truth of that is to be assumed by the physicality of her body. Her body becomes the aesthetic that stands in the shadow of a man and furthering the tropes of a submissive woman through the externalized perception that comes as a result of posing as a desirable object.
Alongside the work of Clarice Lispector, who writes about being, becoming, and living, sharing a vulnerable, fluid internal and external conversation breaching her own identity. This is: A Breath of Life, where she encompasses all feelings and experiences a woman might have in her lifetime, every moment of doubt, or unknowing. Lispector writes: “Angela writes the way she lives: projecting herself. But I am ready to be free: I write for nothing. I clear a path for myself. I live without models. I write without models. Being free is what gives me that great responsibility.” This passage addresses a similar notion to Cixous, in which Angela is an embodiment of an external object, a being with no internal consciousness. Because Lispector includes her own internal reflection of Angela—who still represents her external self—she puts herself in the position of the consumer of external figures. She is the consumer of herself, as are most girls through social media, projecting only her external, aspirational self, while leaving her own challenges and beauty behind. The descriptions of the external, Angela, and the internal, Clarice, are two different beings, trapped in the same body and driven by the external standards that stay present in society. In this case, perception requires work of the viewer, the consumer, in order to understand the nuance behind imagery and aesthetics also. Those consuming the content of Alexandra Leclerc must recognize the unrealistic standard she is setting, that while it remains aspirational, it also upholds misogynist tropes, perhaps even lack of identity beyond that.
The divine feminine is a figure able to carry and nurture anything in her "womb" — her online presence capturing only the most glamorous of clothes or bougiest of yachts; the divine feminine is special and should be worshipped, taken care of in this way. Traditional, yes, but not enough of an encouraging voice for femininity to be shown in men, and inversely discouraging masculinity from women. Even Leclerc's own ventures illustrate this tension: her FRAME collection, a small clothing line released under her name, still speaks in the same visual language as the rest of her platform — a handful of pieces priced and styled for the same narrow class and aesthetic her feed already caters to, an out-of-reach reality for most of the women consuming it.This same logic extends beyond clothing. Kylie Jenner's recent role as the face of Meta's Starfire smart glasses follows an identical pattern: a female creator's aesthetic and platform are used to make a product feel safe, glamorous, and marketed specifically to women, while the actual function of the product — a camera capable of recording others without consent — has little to do with women's interests and, if anything, works against them. When Alexandra Leclerc was seen wearing the same glasses, she extended that same laundering effect to her own audience: another female creator lending her image to a brand whose ethics do not hold up to scrutiny, packaged instead as another aspirational accessory. The glasses, like the FRAME collection, are sold through glamour rather than function, and the woman modeling them becomes the product's alibi.It isn't so much what is posted that is necessarily wrong, as it is any woman's right, but it is also up to the woman posting to cement her own message from it, especially if it accurately feeds into the gender roles women are categorically placed into, and traditionally expected to perform as. It is up to women with large platforms to extend not an illusion of aspiration or desire, but a portrayal of what beauty can be for all groups of people — and it is this same aesthetic logic, one that reduces a woman to body and brand rather than voice, that Cixous and Lispector help make visible.
What are you trying to prove by posting a photo in a long dress, highlighting the curves and freshly oiled skin you so desperately crave to be sexualized? What is behind this figure? Is there thought? Consideration? Critical thinking? Philosophy? Ideology? Who does this person actually think they are, rather than the person they are choosing to portray? There is a stigma around filtering one's life down to only what is perfect or palatable to whoever's gaze — a conformity so absolute, so herd-like, that individual thought disappears into the performance. Comparatively, posting something imperfect might seem trivial, might risk a different kind of perception or disapproval — but it is actually through flaw that a person becomes most real, most beautiful, the same honesty I pointed to earlier as beauty's truest form, not its opposite. Posting the raw and unfiltered is perhaps why photo "dumps" feel more believable than curated feeds: there's nothing to consume but the person herself, unstaged. In doing so, these online personalities challenge the social and political climate around beauty — not by rejecting the platform, but by refusing the normative standards it usually enforces, both for themselves and for everyone consuming their content. It is through this kind of portrayal that beauty is reclaimed — no longer afraid of honesty or clarity, and no longer conforming to the habitus so easily absorbed through a feed of manufactured perfection.
