From Punk to Pinterest: How the Internet Killed the Subculture Star

Subcultures once existed as spaces for expression that challenged the mainstream. They were rich in ideology, identity, and belonging—often emerging as countercultural responses to mainstream cultural norms and values. Many of these communities came to fruition in the 1960s, a tumultuous period in American politics marked by the peak of the Civil Rights Movement, the assassination of numerous prominent political figures, and national division over the Vietnam War. Among young people, in particular, joining together to establish their own cultural and social networks defined by a shared identity and values, resistance to hegemonic norms, the welcoming of oft-marginalized individuals, and an intentional lack of formal leadership offered a sense of escape from the turmoil and establishmentism of the rest of American society. 

However, the rise of the internet and its emphasis on aesthetic-driven communities has diluted the depth and authenticity of subcultures, replacing meaningful social connections rooted in sociopolitical belief systems with superficial trends that glamorize consumption. 

The Transition from Subcultures to Niche Communities to Aesthetics

In the past, subcultures like the Beatniks, Hippies, and the hip-hop and punk scenes were not just about fashion or media consumption. They were about shared beliefs and collective experiences, often tied to specific locations and political stances. 

Participants in the British punk movement of the 1970s, Courtesy of Museum of Youth Culture

Members of the Hippie movement in 1968, Courtesy of Britannica

But today, with the popularity of platforms like Instagram, TikTok, and Pinterest—all of which make consumption and cross-geographical connection easier than ever—aesthetics have become detached from these deeper roots. Where subcultures, at their core, were appealing for their locality and sense of true community, movements like “cottagecore,” “dark academia,” and “vaporwave” in their present forms emphasize visual appeals without requiring participants to engage with any real underlying ethos (despite the original political roots of all of these communities). 

Where punk, for example, was fueled by anti-establishment politics, today’s internet aesthetics often lack that ideological backbone. Aesthetic communities are organized around the pursuit of a particular look or “vibe,” not necessarily a lifestyle, belief system, or any sense of true rebellion. They commodify subculture into something consumable and ephemeral, driven by algorithms and social desirability rather than human connection. Even communities like “art hoe” and “vaporwave” that once had deeper ties to racial equity or anti-capitalism have been drained of those values as a result of internet co-optation. 

The “art hoe” community, started by Tumblr user @sensitiveblackperson as a movement to recognize African American women in the art space, was quickly appropriated by white internet users and turned into the “art mom” aesthetic, which promoted a colorful way of dressing without the political intentionality of the original movement. Courtesy of Wide Walls.

In the past, individuals would invest deeply in a particular subculture, shaping their identity through music, fashion, politics, and social activities. Now, the rapidity with which internet trends rise and fall has led to young people drifting between aesthetics and losing out on the opportunity to develop a personal identity.

The Internet’s Impact

Courtesy of Harvard Graduate School of Education

Numerous factors—including the COVID-19 pandemic, the onset of social media, and increased income segregation over time—have brought about the decline in the physical spaces where subcultures used to thrive. Third places like record stores, libraries, cafes, skateparks, and DIY venues once served as critical community builders. Now, the internet dominates that role in the lives of most young people, but it’s no coincidence that despite being the most interconnected generation, Gen Z is also the loneliest. In some ways, the internet has made subcultures more accessible, but it has also stripped away the sense of local identity and true togetherness that made subcultures so powerful to begin with. 

Cottagecore originated as a rejection of modern hustle culture, with ties to the Hippie movement of the 1970s and the idea of de-gendering traditionally feminine activities. The movement also placed a strong emphasis on environmental awareness and encouraged DIY culture. Now, brands have co-opted the term and stripped away the intention behind the movement, turning “cottagecore” into a synonym for dressing in floral patterns, gingham, and bows (that can be purchased from their websites and delivered within the week), Courtesy of Motel Rocks.

The transformation of online communities into internet aesthetics, brought about by the influence of corporate interests, is another development that sets them apart from what subcultures used to be—or at least what they were supposed to be. Subcultures were meant to act as resistance to the mainstream consumption imperative of capitalism, though different sociological schools of thought have debated the extent to which this mission was truly accomplished. Still, it is undeniable that many of today’s aesthetics are either created or quickly commodified by companies and influencers looking to sell a particular product or lifestyle. Particularly in the fast fashion industry, clothing companies advertise new, trendy pieces by connecting them to the day’s biggest aesthetics on TikTok and Instagram—such as “coastal granddaughter,” “tomato girl,” and “clean girl.” This has turned what was once an act of resistance or self-expression into a marketing tool, furthering the detachment between aesthetics and real community. 

Pushing Our Way Past the Surface 

While the digital world has made self-expression more accessible, it has also traded substance for spectacle. The challenge now is to reimagine how we can build meaningful communities in this new space. To preserve the sense of belonging, creativity, and resistance that subcultures once embodied, we must move beyond mere visuals to rediscover the connections that made those movements more than just passing trends. Subcultures are about more than just looking the part—they’re about living it. And that can never be truly replaced by pixels on a screen. 

Featured Image Courtesy of In Reach Magazine