At 12:51 am, on a random Tuesday night, I found myself scrolling through five back-to-back TikToks from fellow Gen Z’ers, bawling their eyes out, convinced they weren’t ‘TikTok Pretty’ enough. Even the comment section wasn’t spared from frustration. The obviously young gals behind anime profile pictures also vented their exasperation, saying they simply don’t fit the TikTok definition of pretty.
By now, you’ve probably come across the very, very diverse fragments of TikTok beauty labels like Model Pretty, Instagram Pretty, and Popular Pretty. While you may think these are just like any other fleeting TikTok expression, these new terms have actually reached a point where they’ve blurred the very definition of what being pretty is. And tbh? It’s quite confusing, even spiteful, but most of all, exhausting.
Women and girls alike can’t catch a break, especially with the endless beauty trends passing by after each scroll. But what can we expect? We’ve built the FYP, brick by brick, curating the content we want to consume. Whether it’s mindlessly saving new beauty inspos to add-to-cart or even just blindly buying the latest release on a budget site (which, please–don’t *begs*). Now, we’ve reached a point where we’re stuck between chasing what the next viral TikTok has to say or embracing ourselves wholly.
Funnily enough, while you’re reading this, I can assume that you’re probably hunched back on your chair (sit up straight, you banana spine!), crying over a seven-second TikTok of the prettiest blue-eyed girl lip-syncing to Charlie XCX’s party 4 u. And if you’re anything like the rest of us, you’re probably asking yourself, “Am I TikTok Pretty?”, right about now.
TikTok Pretty has been a phrase the community used to express and describe a certain beauty standard. For the chronically online, such as myself, this can be anything between the doe-eyed or siren-eyed girls with thick eyeliner or the bright highlighter under the eyes for that soft girl look. You get the gist of the aesthetic.
The phrase itself may seem harmless at first glance. But I’d nit-pick and say no; it’s quite the contrary. When you’ve been doomscrolling enough, you’ll know that many TikToks have a revolving pattern of users projecting their insecurities and comparing themselves to the viral influencer in the comment section. Between the “You ate that”, “How many letters are there in devoured? ATE”, or “Diva 💜”, you’ll find a slew of self-deprecating ones, which just show how much this phrase can cut.
“I come on this app, and sometimes I feel so ugly,” said Nikki Rodri in a TikTok she posted last year about the phrase. A TikToker who, by the way, creates content focusing on beauty and lifestyle. She later mentioned, “The Internet standards are just too harsh. All these labels, these aren’t things people notice in real life.”
The conversation isn’t new. The beauty standards that social media has set have obviously affected every woman or girl’s perception of what makes them feel truly beautiful. “To me, ‘TikTok pretty’ is someone who is incredibly photogenic and looks striking on camera,” Mina said, a 24-year-old Afghani beauty influencer. You may remember her for the viral TikTok hot take where she ranted about how much the Clean Girl makeup trend isn’t for the Middle Eastern and Central Asian baddies. “Since we practically live in an era where everything is two-dimensional, it’s not one that always translates well,” she rightfully added.
Because of our desire to be like others, we lose our sense of self to the chaos of likes and virality. “It’s honestly like an unreal standard of beauty—something that seems unattainable,” Mina mentioned. Unfortunately, we’re also under the impression that because certain features aren’t deemed to be conventionally attractive (another chronically cursed online term), whether it be the doe eyes or thick Middle Eastern brows, this automatically means someone is at the bottom of the pyramid.
Some might even tell a person they’d swipe left on them in real life just because they don’t fit their scale of facial value. It has become so fragmented that being called TikTok Pretty has become the best compliment you can give to someone. “If you’re considered TikTok Pretty, you’re seen as the epitome of beauty, which, truth be told, seems to be more simplified and widely accepted.”
Whether it’s trying the latest Korean make-up trend, like the aegyosal, or the Douyin-styled make-up with its doll-like shimmer, it’s no secret that because of the direction the girls take to fit in, the more distorted it has become.
Dr Saliha Afridi, a clinical psychologist, notes that the rise of social media beauty standards and trends has drastically altered how young women perceive themselves. “With the popularity of beauty filters, many users develop distorted self-perceptions. Some feel disconnected from their real appearance, experiencing what’s now called ‘TikTok Dysmorphia,’ where they want to look like their filtered selves in real life,” she explained.
This relentless exposure to TikTok trends led to a distorted self-image (whether it’s the need to look like Addison Rae, Tyla or BLACKPINK’s Jennie), making women feel like they’re in a never-ending race to keep up with an unattainable It-girl image. “This has contributed to an increase in young people seeking cosmetic procedures, such as lip fillers, Botox, and jawline enhancements, to match digital beauty trends,” she added.
Mina, too, felt the pressure. But she took a step back and reevaluated her relationship with beauty. “I believe makeup is meant to enhance our natural features,” she said. “This isn’t to say that lighter makeup doesn’t look beautiful on Middle Eastern or Central Asian individuals, our features are naturally striking. However, bold makeup, such as eyeliner or eyeshadow, defines and accentuates our eyes, making them stand out rather than being overwhelmed.” It was only when she stopped viewing bold makeup as any less beautiful that she felt more ~confident~ in her own aesthetic. “I still enjoy experimenting with different looks and occasionally wear clean girl makeup, but I no longer see it as a standard I have to meet.”
TikTok has undeniably changed the game, especially with the diverse features and styles that we often look at for inspiration, ehem, Pinterest users. However, as Mina puts it, “Every day we come across someone who is out-of-this-world and astronomically beautiful, which can be overwhelming at times and sets an unrealistic standard.”
The sheer volume of ‘perfect’ faces taking over our feeds makes beauty feel less natural or innate and more of something we need to achieve. As Dr. Saliha warns, this creates an exhausting “pressure to conform to TikTok beauty trends which can cause stress, anxiety, body image problems, eating disorders, and low self-esteem. This constant need to keep up with the trends makes people feel like they are not ‘enough'”.
This is particularly true for women of colour who often find themselves caught between celebrating their natural features and conforming to Eurocentric trends. “The clean girl trend, like many beauty trends, often feels more accessible to white women, while women of colour struggle to fully embrace it,” Mina said. “For us, trends like these can feel exclusionary, as our natural features, such as deeper skin tones, stronger bone structures, and textured hair, don’t always align with the idealised aesthetic.” Instead of adapting the trend to be more inclusive, the expectation often falls on women of colour to soften their features to fit the mould.
So, what can women and girls do to break free from the TikTok Pretty trap? Dr Saliha emphasises the importance of media literacy and self-awareness, especially for younger girls. “Limit the exposure to social media in childhood and adolescence. It’s always better to be around real and positive people who notice that there are many different shapes and sizes and looks around you,” she advised.
While it’s easier said than done, Dr Saliha also quipped one simple (maybe not so simple) thing: Go on an unfollowing spree. “Unfollow influencers who promote unrealistically high beauty standards. This is one strategy for achieving this goal,” she said.
Mina also shares her strategy: “I started focusing on what I liked about my face instead of what I wished I could change. Once I stopped worrying about fitting into an aesthetic, I naturally felt more confident.”
In an era where we often see others bring each other down for their features, Mina instead encourages women to redefine beauty on their own terms rather than waiting for trends to accommodate them.
“When it comes to makeup trends, I think it’s wonderful to experiment with different looks and encourage girls to have fun with their makeup. But it’s also important to remind them that they don’t have to follow every trend out there or constantly change their style. At the end of the day, the most important thing is to do what feels right for you and embrace what makes you feel confident,” she said.
So, when the next TikTok term comes out, instead of pestering the brain with self-deprecation and self-loathing, maybe it’s time you take a page out of Ariana Grande’s book and say, ‘Thank u, next.’