“I’m a different kind of woman / If you want some basic bitch, go to the Beverly Center and find her.” – Lana Del Rey

Pain and the feminine existence 

Pain has always been inherent in the feminine existence, but society as a whole ignores and downplays it. There are viral videos of men doubling over in pain upon trying a period pain simulator, while women snort at how trivial the pain is compared to their actual period pain. It takes an average of around ten years for a patient to receive a diagnosis for endometriosis, a disease that 11% of menstruating people suffer from, that there is barely medical relief for. There is the famous case of “Dora” that set the precedent for modern rape culture, where (female) victims of sexual violence are held responsible for their perpetrator’s crimes, simultaneously creating the archetype of the hysterical woman. Even though “hysteria” is no longer a diagnosable disease, there remains a stigma surrounding feminine pain, such that society continues to deem the woman in pain as undesirable and taboo. A female identifying person is always overreacting, whiny, unattractive, and most of all, a threat to the patriarchal status quo, when she expresses her pain. A female identifying person in pain remains a social pariah, unless she is a Sad Girl. Only then can her pain function to idolize her as a “different kind of woman”. She can now take her privileged position as a “not like the other girls” girl in a patriarchal society. She, in her pain, can finally be beloved and accepted. 

You are #PrettyWhenYouCry (if you are white, skinny, pretty, and submissive)

First emerging around 2011, the Sad Girl aesthetic pioneered as a socially acceptable way to display feminine pain as the Sad Girl, despite being in pain, is in all other aspects society’s perfect woman. Popular predominantly among middle and upper class young white girls in the western world, the hashtag #PrettyWhenYouCry effectively sums up the Sad Girl. The Sad Girl is always a thin, white, and conventionally attractive girl. Her pain enhances her conventional beauty by making it unconventional yet acceptable when stereotypical white beauty is mixed with inert sadness, pain, and self destruction. And this is exactly why the Sad Girl is socially accepted, if not promoted. As the Sad Girl expresses her pain passively while upholding the patriarchal standards of feminine performance, she is harmless in a society that fears the potential of women’s pain to act as catalysts of change. In other words, the Sad Girl is a static image wallowing in her pain and powerless towards it. All she can do is to look pretty as she listens to Lana Del Rey, smokes a cigarette, and cries. 

This is not to say, however, that the Sad Girl is completely powerless in her capability for positive societal change. The social acceptance of the Sad Girl allowed female identifying young people to find a community of acceptance among other Sad Girls, which functions as a safe space for them to validate their pain. The Sad Girl, though in a limited and problematic way, opened the door for feminine pain to finally be heard in a world that has always ignored it, and this is why women, especially young girls, resonated with her. The Sad Girl aesthetic, in its inherently pessimistic worldview, validates and acknowledges the toughness of the period of change and turmoil for female identifying people from puberty to young adulthood, when society belittles and gaslights them and their feelings. In this way, the Sad Girl is cathartic. In a world where she is denied and not understood, where she has always felt different due to her pain, this difference is no longer castigated, appearing even attractive and cool. The Sad Girl was the solution for femmes in pain. 

Being #PrettyWhenYouCry is Anti-Woke

Nonetheless, the Sad Girl aesthetic, when further examined, ceases to be a solution but a reflection of society’s issues surrounding feminine pain. The Sad Girl, in promoting a specific aesthetic image that revolves around a skinny, white, and conventionally attractive girl, inherently conveys the message that the pain of female identifying people can only be accepted among a very narrow demographic. The Sad Girl promotes not only fatphobia but also negative stereotypes of female identifying people expressing their pain, like that of the angry black woman, while completely excluding non female passing femmes. Like mainstream feminism and the women’s suffrage movement, the Sad Girl underscores the privilege of white middle and upper class women and how they are able to be “one step ahead” in the progression towards gender equality, viewing themselves as the beacons of progress, while everyone else is silenced and left behind. 

The Sad Girl also takes popular culture back a few steps in terms of mental health awareness by fetishizing and aestheticizing mental illness and a certain kind of woman with mental illness. Among Sad Girls, general dysphoria and mental illnesses such as depression and anorexia, are promoted as a life and aesthetic style. Sad Girls are characterized not by actual productive discourses of their pain, instead by certain passive cathartic behaviors and music and fashion preferences that are socially coded as representing feminine sadness. This harkens back to the argument that the Sad Girl became popular and socially accepted due to her passivity, such that she, by reducing feminine pain to a fetish, an aesthetic, and an archetype of woman, transforms the ugliness, rawness, and discomfort “unembellished” feminine pain releases upon society into a harmless and sanitized version that society is comfortable dealing with. 

Fundamentally, the Sad Girl thrives on patriarchy. As touched on earlier, the Sad Girl perpetuates the age old “pick me” mentality, where she inevitably has to put down other “kinds” of girls in order to gain the privileged label of being “not like the other girls”. The Sad Girl holds herself above “other” girls, who are “basic bitches” compared to the supposedly so revolutionary Sad Girl, who is not only pretty, but also has better fashion and music taste than the other girls, because her sadness allowed her to cultivate such an unconventional taste that sets her apart and above from girls who don’t seem to be experiencing the same sadness. Harkening to the supreme priestess of the Sad Girl, Lana Del Rey herself, the Sad Girl is a “different kind of woman”. When in reality, she is just another girl playing into the patriarchy, promoting the oppressive standard of beauty for female identifying people, downplaying the feminine pain by reducing it to an aesthetic, and putting down other women so she could rise above them to become the beloved.

The Poster Girl of Patriarchy

Ultimately, the Sad Girl is not a girls’ girl. At first glance, there seems to be a feminist argument for her. The Sad Girl, a movement initiated by suffering women, hence, though problematic, a movement created by and for women’s desire for self expression, could be interpreted as paving the way for greater societal acceptance for expressions and discourses of feminine pain. However, does the Sad Girl actually change anything regarding feminine expression? Is it contributing to undoing the stigma surrounding feminine pain? On the flip side, is the Sad Girl not a perpetuation of this stigma among other forms of oppression female identifying people experience? 

The Sad Girl, being a movement to recognize and accept feminine pain, is inherently passive in her philosophy. While it is indeed crucial for her to recognize and accept her pain, the Sad Girl wallows in it in the name of acceptance, rather than seeking help or initiating change. The Sad Girl relinquishes her power, like society wants her to. She is used against herself to keep her pain in check, threatened by the condemnation she would receive if she dares express her pain in any other way. Hence the Sad Girl is not a girls’ girl. She holds herself above other women, she delays and ruins the progression towards gender equality for them.