The “performative male” has seemingly taken over every space where the average age is less than 30, leaving unopened books and splatters of carelessly spilled matcha in his wake. It’s clear that the buzz around him is one for the history books – or as he would say, “herstory.”
As of late, social media has been inundated with content about these so-called “performative males,” including how-tos, cultural critiques and oddly anthropological “spotted in public” videos. Those of us who don’t inhale the Gen-Z zeitgeist as part of our morning routine are struggling to keep up.
In case you don’t already know, a performative male is a species of men who have been identified online – mostly by young women – as men who disingenuously try to perform (get it?) in-touchness and emotional intelligence through the way they dress and what they consume. A 2025 update of the salaciously motivated male feminist who is just a bit too stoked on sexual liberation.
Certain signifiers have started to be associated with these men, beginning with their garb, which includes baggy clothes, bandanas over the head, wired earphones, ample jewelry, Labubu keychains and a militaristic use of tote-bags with the unspoken rule that everything they wear must have been acquired from thrift stores (or have plausible deniability that it was). To these performative males, one man’s trash is another man’s prop.
Don’t assume a performative male is so surface-level as to be categorized by only how they dress. They, too, have hobbies. Some favorite pastimes of the performative male are: reading feminist literature in public (with the cover visible so people can see how progressive they are), drinking overpriced drinks in boutique coffee shops and vinyl – anything vinyl. What these hobbies have in common is a strict adherence to the most convenient forms of counterculture; one must be as different as feasible while still having both feet planted in the luxuries of 21st-century excess.
With performative males, we also see an incongruity of thrift and consumerism – where wearing $10 jeans from Goodwill is paired with an over $100 designer Labubu doll or wearing corded earbuds (one-tenth the price of their Bluetooth corollary) while also drinking an $8 matcha latte. They seem to work through the lens of irony, where at once they are tongue-in-cheek, displaying hyper-consumerism, while also showing a rejection of society’s value of wealth by wearing thrifted clothing.
Now that you know how to identify one of these performative males, you should also know the audience to which their performance is directed. Conveniently, the intention behind the method acting of these men is not up for speculation, as one Yik Yak poster explained it.
“A ‘performative male’ particularly does it for the female gaze (literally peacocking his way into her pants).”
The female gaze, which is often overshadowed by its predatory counterpart, “the male gaze,” is the idea of a uniform (or predominantly accepted) archetype of man who women would see as ideal. In the case of the performative male, that would be a man with emotional intelligence, rejection of convention and interest in women’s social issues. The image performative males seek to foster is one broadly characterized by a rejection of masculinity’s more unapproachable or threatening aspects. Because society as a whole still views femininity as non-threatening and emotionally intelligent, performative men take on a more feminine presentation. Often, they will express interest in artists or media usually enjoyed by women, as another Yik Yak post points out.
“If you like Clairo because you want people to see the album open on your screen and think you’re emotionally healthy and secure in yourself for listening to music like that…”
In case you are unaware, Clairo is an American singer-songwriter known for her soft, intimate vocals and indie-pop sound. Importantly, she is considered an artist primarily listened to by young women.
Heterosexual men trying to fill the niche of the “female gaze” is not a new phenomenon. The surface-level operationalization of women’s preferences by performative males shares a resemblance in both intent and form to the pick-up artists that dominated the early 2010s, where women’s dating preferences were simplified to a set of aesthetics and appearances advertised as guaranteed success with women. In a world where relationships between humans are often referred to as a “dating market,” we are once again seeing an attempt to game the system. Why focus on self-improvement and emotional maturity when you could just dress like you already have them? As they say, dress for the job you want, not the job you have.
What’s interesting in this arms race of performativity is where men choose to stop – the lines they see as too far. If it really was about seeming as feminine and in touch with your emotions as possible, then why don’t we see these performative males commonly wearing dresses? Or lipstick? It seems that they are trying to strike a balance, signal “I’m not like other men”– while at the same time still communicating their masculinity. A confluence of heterodoxy and a surface-level rebellion against gender norms.
Because there is a precedent for many performing in this way, many are left wondering why this specific stylistic trend has been called out so forcefully. Arguments that we all perform to some extent when we dress or that even gender itself is largely performative have been around for decades, yet the performative male has been uniquely identified in this cultural moment. One reason for this could be that it seems some of the loudest voices on the topic are the performative males themselves.
As TikTok and Instagram reels have continued to blow up, men (and some women) have begun to embrace it. Across American college campuses, students have started hosting performative male contests, taking literally the adjective “performance.” Prospective contestants have shown up in large numbers wanting to be crowned “the most performative.” They have strangely taken on the mantle of being disingenuous and embraced it.
The structure of these competitions seems to vary from campus to campus. However, there are a few common rules. They usually involve contestants displaying their appearance or “fits” to the audience, examples being mimicking a red carpet/runway or standing shoulder to shoulder on a stage. These competitions also conscript competitors to do an act demonstrating their performance of being performative males, usually in the most satirical way possible.
For example, in a TikTok from Florida International University’s performative male contest, one of the competitors can be seen on one knee monologuing with his hands to the sky in a display of ironic melodrama.
“Period, it ends a sentence, period, that’s for women to go through. But not only do they go through it, they grow through it.”
Similarly, a TikTok of competitors at another competition showed them standing around reading canonical books about feminism – one example being the seminal work “The Second Sex” by Simone De Beauvoir. Again, this act is heavily veiled in sarcasm. Competitions are often decided through an audience vote.
While this unique cultural moment has been embraced by all groups involved – the critics and the critiqued – some have noticed troubling underlying sentiments about gender identity. Brittany Luse, host of It’s Been a Minute on NPR, interviewed cultural critics Manny Fidel and James Factora on what the performative male trend may say about society’s view of gender. James Factora theorizes about some assumptions being made by those calling out performative males.
“It’s a little strange to me to be like, a guy can’t enjoy a fruity little drink or chipped black nail polish without it being tainted as a tactic of manipulation,” Factora said. “Maybe we should think deeper about what that implies.”
If we assume that some men are being falsely labeled as performative, then we must consider the downstream effects this could have on the way that men behave. Labeling someone as performative is deeply pejorative – to claim someone is lying in their self-expression would be deeply hurtful if misplaced. Thus, the risk of being labeled in this way could serve as a massive disincentive for any man who has an interest in the “performative behaviors,” even if their interest is completely genuine. You almost horseshoe men back into typical expressions of masculinity by labeling those who don’t as performative.
*Sips matcha disapprovingly.
