Gen Z ‘core’ culture is fundamentally empty

Cottagecore. Clowncore. Regencycore. Gen Z has many aesthetics — so much so that a Wiki was needed to keep up.

But, where did all of these “–core” suffixed subcultures originate?

Dictionary.com defines the “core” as “the central, innermost, or most essential part of anything.” 

The online dictionary further speculates two origins of the “–core” suffix. Origin one was it simply denotes the core of an aesthetic — the centre of Barbiecore is, unsurprisingly, Barbie. The second origin was that it came from the word hardcore, meaning the topic is something a person is hardcore about. This, of course, begs the question, are fans of “normcore” hardcore about being normal?

The difference between these two definitions is the gap between what subculture can be and what it has become. The first places the aesthetic at the center of the experience, while the second highlights the individual.

When I was in high school, K-pop was my entire life. I’d spend all my free time watching K-dramas and Korean variety shows, learning K-pop dances, and visiting Korean restaurants.

I started spending my weekends wandering Crystal Mall. I learned to read Hangul. I even applied for official permission to take Intro to Korean 11 online, which now remains permanently on my high school transcript.

As cringe — and culturally appropriative — as this phase was, at least there was something I was hardcore about.

Social media is becoming central to everyday life, and participating in a subculture is less about a person’s own identity and more on how they present themselves to others.

Cottagecore isn’t a rural lifestyle — it’s wearing the right dresses and curating the perfect kitchen. Gamercore is less about enjoying video games and more about flexing your LED keyboards and cat-ear headphones. Gorpcore actually is about hiking, but only if you’re wearing a $200 Patagonia fleece pullover.

In place of this hollow aesthetic chasing, these three new subcultures — Contemplationcore, Philanthropycore, and Flâneurcore — can set you apart from the normies.

Contemplationcore might seem crazy, but all you need is a rainy bus window, a thousand-yard stare, and a laundry list of regrets on how your last relationship ended. You can even bless your friends’ Instagram feeds with the wisdom that springs up during your thought sessions, whether it’s Socratic-level philosophy or thinly veiled messages to your ex.

Philanthropycore is meant for the people posting a performative Instagram story about socializing stray kittens at the animal shelter — but they’re also the people who are so passionate about service that they don’t mind being mislabelled as performative. Go ahead, milk all the content you want out of that weekend beach cleanup, just so long as you’re truly helping people in the process.

A flâneur is a wanderer — someone who understands the artistry of a perfect city walk. To live Flâneurcore, you have to grab a camera and let yourself meander. Stroll through the park and admire the different loves in the world. Leave your headphones at home so you don’t miss the saxophonist on the corner playing that one song you haven’t heard in years. Add a pretentious black-and-white filter to all your blurry candids before compiling them into the perfect Instagram carousel.

Curating an online image isn’t wrong. Yet, at some point, you need to ask yourself if you’re truly living the aesthetic or just reflecting it to the world?