The Plague of the Performative Male

Matcha in hand. “The Feminine Mystique” in a burlap tote bag. Clairo blasting from wired earbuds dangling from a jorts pocket. 

This modern specimen may be encountered on a walk to class. They’re classified as a “performative male.”

Characterized by their thrifted Doc Martens and not-like-other-men mentality, they’ve seemed to run amok across Chicago and the nation, leaving lafufus in their wake.

But to truly understand these creatures — and their implications for society at large — their origins must be understood. 

The “performative male,” as it’s known, was born in the depths of the Coronavirus pandemic, where the term “male manipulator” was coined in 2020. This name was used to describe straight men who listened to artists with a traditionally female and homosexual fanbase — Lana del Ray, Fiona Apple, for example — to appeal to potential alternative female suitors. Bands like Radiohead, TV Girl and The Smiths also became associated with this breed, as a sort of litmus test for toxic and controlling boyfriends.

Since 2020, however, the “male manipulator” has morphed into the contemporary “performative male.” Just as a pufferfish will create intricate mandalas in the sand for a mate or birds of paradise executing elaborate mating dances, the performative male will put on a facade of nicheness in hopes of finding a woman. 

While I do believe there is room for fluidity in historically group-exclusive spaces, such as queer-only and women-only safe spaces, the question of authenticity becomes a problem when it becomes a trend to seize the aesthetics of a certain marginalized group and claim it as one’s own.

The same people mocking gay men for cropping their shirts now trim the bottoms of their shirts to flaunt their happy trails. Those who said Taylor Swift is just for girls may now post Phoebe Bridgers on their Instagram stories. He who might’ve said matcha tasted like grass will now pay upwards of eight dollars for the same drink.

This look has become commercialized in a sense, with “performative male competitions” taking place across the country. Contestants are rewarded for dressing up, acting more “performative” — or in other words, “more gay.” Effeminate voices, cocked hands and stereotypical mannerisms are the norm at these contests. Yet this is the whole joke. Isn’t it funny these straight men act gay, but in reality aren’t? 

One such contest took place in Wicker Park Aug. 8, which saw over 80 different contestants enter. Ironically enough, the winner of the contest wasn’t a straight man at all — but a woman dressed in drag, a practice that has played a crucial role within the gay community. Just as drag queens are over-the-top feminine personas, drag kings are portrayed as overtly macho, the embodiment of the “masculine” essence.

The rise of this strain of man also mirrors the rise of homophobic hate crimes. In 2023, hate crimes based on sexual orientation grew 23% from the previous year, with over one-in-five reported hate crimes being anti-LGBTQ+ motivated. While it might not be a one-to-one correlational effect, it shows a growing — and worrying — trend of violence against queer people who are visibly queer. 

Inversely, the harm this fad causes extends past just gay and bisexual men, encompassing all men, regardless of sexuality.  Delegating parts of our culture as “performative” — the wide majority being seen as effeminate — only grows an anti-feminine sentiment. Because there are straight men I know who genuinely enjoy collecting CDs, reading on the train and watching obscure arthouse films. Hell, even I used Letterboxd unironically!

In an era where young men are being siphoned to the alt-right pipeline at earlier and earlier ages, it’s now more important than ever to stop reinforcing beliefs that certain hobbies will lead to emasculation. In turning their serious interests and fashion sense into a caricature, it can lead to shame, internal resentment and confusion. 

It’s just jarring seeing the same people who stopped listening to Lil Nas X for being “zesty” start spinning a Sufjan Stevens record. Yet, after walking past the one-hundredth man with a “The Cranberries” shirt or painted nails holding his girlfriend’s hand, I begin to question myself.

Will people think I’m just another performative male? To be validated as a gay man, do I need to dress gayer? Am I dressing too gay?

This same type of mockery has manifested itself in pop culture before, namely through cultural appropriation — the many races of Ariana Grande, hip hop as a “look” or Awkwafina’s blaccent, just to name a few. People want to take the “desirable” parts of a group while still distancing themselves from the source.

A similar trend gained prominence in the early 2000s — such as the “metrosexual man.” A combination of the words “metropolitan” and “heterosexual,” the term was used to describe men who took up more feminine appearances and interests, like skin care or designer jeans. Numerous news articles and shows like “Queer Eye” served as a catalyst to push this new breed of man into the mainstream. 

Straight men who used moisturizers or took pride in their outfits were branded as “metrosexuals.” The whole point of the trend wasn’t to celebrate the newfound popularity of practices common within the gay community, but rather to point out its exoticness and the taboo nature that a heterosexual would dare act like a gay one.

Both cases set the same precedent — it’s okay to exhibit the characteristics of a certain group as long as you yourself aren’t part of it.

Where can this issue go from here? I wish I could find the answer within the deep pockets of my baggy jeans. Delegating certain styles to a specific group of people will only further strengthen existing stereotypes. But leaving the current epidemic unchecked will only lead to a continued wave of both predatory straight men masquerading as gays and a diminishing number of straight men who feel comfortable expressing themselves.

I think the solution lies under the vintage Carhartt jacket — in understanding. 

Yes, it’s okay to listen to CharliXCX as a straight man, but understand her career is built upon the LGBTQ+ community. Sure, use a carabiner to hold your keys, but know they first gained prominence within the lesbian community. Go ahead, read your feminist literature in a cafe in Boystown — just be aware of the space you’re in and the people around you.

Maybe then, everyone can create an environment where queer people, straight folk and everyone in between can listen to Clairo’s “Sling” and sip on an overpriced latte in peace.