The Cottagecore Kids are Alright
/In terms of age, to the kids on TikTok, I would most likely be considered the Grandma for whom #grandmacore was named. I’m about as far from actually being a member of Gen Z as I can get. But allow me a moment of indulgence to talk to you a little bit about an enormous trend that I wasn’t sure what to think of at first. Now I love it. I’m talking, of course, about #cottagecore.
If you haven’t encountered the cottagecore culture online yet, (it trends the most on TikTok, a social media site I haven’t yet explored firsthand) it is “an aesthetic inspired by a romanticized interpretation of agricultural life…centered on the idea of a more simple life and harmony with nature.” (Aesthetics Wiki) Although much of cottagecore focuses on the idea of a romanticized farm, a post I saw on Facebook perhaps put its broader definition most succinctly: “If you want to run away to the country and live in a cottage, then you belong in cottagecore.”
My first reaction to finding out about cottagecore was incredulity. Wasn’t this just the mori girl (Japanese “forest girl”) and prairie style aesthetics repackaged a few years later for a younger audience? Well, yes…and no. Over time, as I learned more about cottagecore and its enthusiasts, I started to realize I was reacting like an over-the-hill hipster who wanted to mumblingly insist “I’ve been going to the woods for years,” or “you whipper-snappers aren’t the first to ever make bread or pick berries.” In short, I was being a silly grump. Once I admitted this fact, I was able to watch TikTok cottagecore compilations on YouTube with an open mind (and keep watching, and watching, and watc…they are addictive!) and gain a better understanding and respect for this aesthetic and, really, movement.
Gentleness is an attribute of cottagecore, featuring hobbies that require very little modern technology. Baking, embroidery, gardening, chickens, foraging (for mushrooms, berries, bones…), picnics, and frogs all feature prominently in the visual language. However, because it is an aesthetic largely followed by and promoted among Gen Z, it also has a quiet backbone of hidden steel. The teens of today include such movers and shakers as Greta Thunberg, Emma Gonzalez, and Malala Yousafzai. From my time working with teens in my small Ohio town at the library, I’ve discovered that these three young women represent qualities of their generation: a courage to stand up to adults in a way I never would have at their age, a serious concern for the future they will inherit, and flexible minds that are willing to play with ideas we once held “sacred.” Cottagecore represents all of these things.
Cottagecore respects the adults who came before and embodied the concept, such as Tasha Tudor, but doesn’t accept the idea that a person has to wait until they are a certain age or living in a certain place to learn the skills and adopt the hobbies, or even wear the fashion of an older generation. Try laughing at a cottagecore person for sitting at a school lunch table and working on embroidery, or wearing a lace collar they sewed onto a prim dress, and they would more likely than not look back at you, unphased and unperturbed. They love what they love.
A few recent online articles have made the (accurate) observation that cottagecore seems to be gaining even more popularity lately, and argue that this may be because the quarantine we’ve all collectively experienced makes us appreciate simple and homely pleasures all the more. It reminds us that while modern cultural life may be lost to us for a while, not all sources of joy are lost. While this seems a likely reason for its upsurge, cottagecore already blended well with the Gen Z awareness of environmentalism, ecological impact, and protecting the future. Sewing or thrifting one’s clothes, room/home décor, and learning to grow one’s own food and cook meals all may be old-fashioned concepts, but they represent steps toward a more hopeful tomorrow.
There is a sub-group among cottagecore followers, and they are very prevalent and vocal. That is the “cottagecore lesbian.” And, quite frankly, I love them. So much. They are perhaps the biggest reason why cottagecore tugs at my heartstrings. Growing up in central Ohio to a pastor father in a conservative family, cottagecore is not unfamiliar-feeling to me. Modest dresses, homey hobbies, and country life have long been associated with my religious upbringing. I live in a part of the country where to wear long skirts and have long hair automatically makes some people assume that I am Pentecostal rather than pagan even with my flower crowns and bell-sleeve tops,. Because of this, I think perhaps I felt for a long time like I couldn’t embrace the side of me that loved some of these simple pleasures because of their association with tradwives and a culture I am no longer a part of. But oh, cottagecore. Cottagecore lesbians say “Hey, we love this aesthetic and it’s not just owned by Christian housewives. We as lesbians don’t need to just be one stereotyped aesthetic you see in the media. We can want to be overalls-wearing chicken-raising mushroom collectors, or gingham bonnet-wearing picnic queens.” Cottagecore loves who it loves. And it is perfect.
Seeing these sub-threads woven throughout cottagecore videos I watch…the lack of shame in “old lady” hobbies, the desire to live a more eco-friendly lifestyle, and the determination not to let the romance of country life only be a straight conservative aesthetic…makes it clear that cottagecore is more than just another style trend. It may or may not be a movement in and of itself, but it is a sign of a shift in today’s teens, a quiet and gentle voice that says “the future will not be the same as the past. Vintage style, not vintage values” with every lilting “cottagecore check!” video uploaded on TikTok.
PS: Can someone explain the frogs?
Recommended articles discussing cottagecore further:
Cottagecore is the pastoral fantasy aesthetic taking over TikTok