Femininity, not Feminism

The other day, at the march held here in Bologna for International Women's Rights Day, there were many people—teenagers, elderly individuals with walking canes, children in strollers or energetically carried on shoulders, and numerous signs. One of these signs read, "Feminism is not a bad word." Apparently, as I’ve noticed in the fragmented world of TikTok, feminism is seen as a bad word: a term, a movement to stay far away from. When instinctively reflecting on the concept of anti-feminism, the online spaces that come to mind are those dominated by self-proclaimed incels—such as the "Forum dei brutti" where women are referred to as np (non-persons)—or subthreads on more international platforms like Reddit and 4Chan. Surprisingly, it is on social media platforms like TikTok that anti-feminism finds fertile ground to thrive, thanks to its intrinsic capabilities (the one-to-many sharing model, the immediate replicability of trends, and an almost non-existent interpersonal connection among users.

Housewives, Algorithms, and Anti-Feminism

On TikTok, anti-feminism has become a brand, characterized by hashtags such as #SAHM (Stay At Home Mother, with nearly 6 million videos), #MomsOfTikTok, #tradwives, #FemininityNotFeminism, and #homemaker. Women promote their traditional lifestyle as an alternative to the ambitious yet potentially stressed and exploited #girlboss culture: "While the feminist woman fights to feel empowered, the feminine woman simply is. She doesn’t need to compete or shout for recognition because she knows her worth isn’t tied to that" says Jasmine Darke, who has made it her brand by blending unrelated concepts and adding a touch of anti-capitalism.

Reinventing the Patriarchy

The narrative of contemporary feminisms as a threat to femininity is further reinforced by the glorification of an idealized femininity, associated with floral prints, white dresses, and neatly tied blonde hair (a propaganda style that drags us back to a sort of 1940s aesthetic 2.0, except now we’re on TikTok). Anti-feminist influencers disguise their role as political content creators, instead presenting themselves as small business entrepreneurs or lifestyle influencers. Simultaneously, they leverage social media dynamics to spread ideological positions through storytelling filled with personal anecdotes, testimonials, and supposedly objective analyses—presented with the apparent spontaneity typical of social media—while occupying seemingly harmless digital spaces. 

In an increasingly dark landscape, particularly in the United States, where progressive values—along with words—are being banned, these figures subtly infiltrate, building an alternative ecosystem. It is crucial to ask: how far does this claim of right-wing ideology diverge from the norm, and how long will it continue to feel unsettling?