Performative males have emerged as the archetypal Gen-Z meme. The kind of man who carries a tote bag, sips an iced oat milk matcha latte, wears baggy pants, accessorized with a Labubu and pretends to read Angela Davis. The performative male can be spotted in most metropolitan cities. In many ways, he is the antithesis of the “Alpha Bro” promoted by toxic masculinity influencers. Performative males have a trendy, soft and stylish aesthetic calibrated for the female gaze. The image is catered to what would make him more attractive and desirable to progressive women.
The trend has gained so much traction that we’re now seeing performative contests taking place all over the world, from San Francisco to Jakarta. The defining characteristic of the performative male is that his choices are less about a genuine interest in music, clothes, books and food and more about external validation. A heavily curated and constructed appearance of what other people might find admirable. What can marketers learn from the performative male trend? And what are the wider implications for society?
Performative males reflect a broader wave of meta-irony shaping Gen-Z internet culture. A unique form of irony where the true meaning of the action is deliberately obscured. Academic Linda Hutcheon describes irony as “a semantic balancing act, as a fencesitting, bet-hedging middle where evasion and complicity sit – not totally comfortably – with commitment and critique.” Irony acts as a shield. It protects young people from the fear of “doing too much” or being labelled “cringe”. Sincerity and genuine enthusiasm can prove risky in a world where actions can be screenshot, memed and replayed. By contrast, irony helps Gen-Z deflect judgment and critique. Irony is a coping mechanism and a tool for detachment in a chronically online world. The rise of situationships among Gen-Z is another manifestation of the same self-protection instinct. Declaring your love can come across as needy; instead, many sustain a performance of cool detachment.
You could argue that everything we do is performative. To quote William Shakespeare, “All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players.” For centuries, people have used clothing, music and brands to signal who they are and which community they belong to. However, the fundamental difference is that the performative male represents a shift from self-expression to self-curation. Self-expression is rooted in genuine interest, shared values and cultural identity. Self-curation, by contrast, is about anticipating how choices will be perceived by others—mediated by powerful algorithms—and under the constant pressure to stay on trend.
The sociologist Erving Goffman used the analogy of the front stage and backstage to explain human behavior. The front stage is where we perform for others, often displaying an ideal self. The backstage is where we drop the mask. But in the age of social media, the backstage has collapsed. For performative males, irony is built into the act itself as a safety net against mockery. They know they are performing and lean into it. The irony doesn’t expose the performance; it completes it.
Gen-Z discovers trends and tastes largely through algorithmic recommendations. For previous generations, identity was inextricably linked to ideological subcultures, including local music scenes, fashion movements and shared experiences. People were active participants in shaping their cultural identity, not passive consumers. For Gen-Z, taste is a collection of virtual, algorithmically served aesthetics, often loaded with irony to avoid being labelled cringe. The starting point is no longer a backstage of personal beliefs and cultural identity. There is no fixed anchor. Instead, self-curation begins on the frontstage: with how one wants to be seen—in real time—in the endless pursuit of validation and escape from judgment.
There are some major implications for brands and marketers in the era of irony. Firstly, in a world of self-curated identities, brands are no longer consumed for functional purposes or even self-expression but as performative signals. Labubu has generated $677 million for Pop Mart in the first half of 2025. Stanley grew its annual revenue from $70 million to more than $750 million in four years by expanding its audience. And Birkenstock, a shoe brand historically rooted in orthopaedics, was valued at $7.5bn when it floated on the New York Stock Exchange in 2023 after becoming ironically cool. Secondly, the sincerity and earnest brand messages that resonated with Millennials might feel too heavy-handed to Gen-Z, who are more drawn to ironic, playful and chaotic content. Finally, brands can play a constructive role by helping Gen Z move beyond ironic performance and constant self-curation. Brands have the opportunity to help young people discover what they genuinely like, value and believe in.
Who are we really? How can we distinguish between the sincere and the performative? Perhaps the distinction no longer matters in a world where performance isn’t hiding reality. The performance is reality.