The ugly truth behind ‘aesthetic friendships’
WORDS BY BRONTE WINNEM
“The thought of people actually disliking the friends they willingly choose to spend time with but persevering based strictly on a shared affiliation for cargo pants and Salomon’s was absolutely absurd to me.”
When I moved from Sydney to Melbourne last March, the daunting task of making friends as a 25-year-old occupied a permanent top spot on the list of things that terrified me (that and hook turns, strangely). Anyone who’s had to endure the first day of university ‘get to know each other’ exercises or has made the move themselves to a new city or country knows all too well just how uncomfortable (and at times cringe) it can be to put yourself out there in a bid to meet new people.
My friendship fears were only exacerbated upon my first outing to Collingwood wine bar and restaurant, Hope St Radio, where I watched the hottest and best-dressed waitress I’d ever seen sit down with a vape and vino mid-service with the hottest and best-dressed group of people I’d ever seen. I was convinced I couldn’t shake my Sydney-ness and was positive I wasn’t ‘cool’ enough to ever be part of a friendship group like that.
For more content like this, tap through to our Life section.
Truthfully, the scenes at Hope St Radio weren’t all a complete surprise to me. Having some family and friends residing in Melbourne for a few years now, I was somewhat familiar with the stereotypes of Melbourne aesthetics. In the North, it’s some complicated mashup of gorpcore, covert high-end and designer labels and pseudo-grunge with a touch of femininity that I’ve heard many describe as ‘rich people cosplaying as poor’. In the South, it’s more shiny, preppy and overtly luxury fashion.
In a lot of ways, the way people speak about the Southside of Melbourne reminds me of the issues people in Sydney have with those who hail from private schools, the Northern Beaches or the ‘East’. Either way, at first glance it seemed there was an unspoken code of aesthetic alignment as a throughline within these groups. Regardless of whether that was actually true or not, I felt as though I needed to adhere to a certain taste and lifestyle in order to find my people.
So when I was scrolling on TikTok and came across creator Josephine Sunshine’s musings on Melbourne’s problem with something she dubs ‘aesthetic friendships’, I jumped straight to the comments. I was half surprised to find that people agreed and that many had felt this way for some time.
The (since-deleted) video began with Josephine stating “If there’s one thing I don’t want on this earth… I don’t want to be in any aesthetically pleasing friendship groups”. But what is an ‘aesthetic friendship’? Josephine went on to describe these kinds of groups of friends as “a bunch of people [who] hang out together and you know damn well these people don’t like each other, they talk bad about each other [and] they only hang out with each other because [they think] ‘you match my aesthetic’”.
She went on to lament how she believes these kinds of friendships exist only at a surface level and are somewhat soulless – “‘cause at the end of the day when the aesthetic has finished… once we’ve done everything that looks aesthetically pleasing, what’s next? If I’m depressed will you be there for me? [They’re] only there for you if you look nice.” The comments were flooded with agreeance, one user chiming in to say “Their favourite line is ‘You’re so pretty, let’s be friends’ like how do you know they’re a good person?” while others said that these types of friends are only in it to “party together” or “take photos”, or both.
The comment that stuck out to me the most was from Vibras Australia, an energy reading ‘auraphotography’ business based in St Kilda that captures and interprets the colour of people’s auras. It read “… You’d be surprised how many people in our readings admit they hate their friends… like a lot!”. The thought of people actually disliking the friends they willingly choose to spend time with but persevering based strictly on a shared affiliation for cargo pants and Salomon’s was absolutely absurd to me.
Perhaps I just got lucky, but the friends I’ve made here are some of the most down-to-earth, inclusive, and interesting people I’ve met in my life. As one user commented about their friendship group on Josephine’s video, when we all trickle into The Union together on a Friday night we look as though “we were forced together into a group project at uni”. I found myself nodding my head at another user’s take, who insists that “true friendship is when everyone rocks up for the same event looking like they’re all going somewhere different”.
The way my friends and I look as a unit may be inconsistent, but we have a genuine love and respect for one another, are interested in each other’s lives and share commonalities in areas outside of the way we dress. It would be remiss of me to not touch on the fact that obviously, not all friendship groups who dress similarly or have a distinct ‘vibe’ or aesthetic to them are automatically shallow.
What I think Josephine’s video failed to address is that while some people may first become friends because of the way they dress, often having these aesthetic commonalities means there’s a good chance you’ll have other things in common too.
My only advice for those reading this who are feeling a pit settle in their stomach because they don’t feel connected to their mates beyond a love of raves or the brands they buy, is perhaps it’s time to reevaluate who you’re spending your precious time with.
This article was originally published on October 10, 2023.
For more on how to make and keep adult friendships, head here.