The Problem with the ‘Clean’ Girl Aesthetic? It’s Not That Clean

Gold hoops, slicked-back hair, dewy skin— I’m sure you’re already picturing her. The ‘Clean Girl’. 

We’ve seen her all over our Instagram, glowing through morning routines and latte runs, with a skincare lineup longer than a 2000s rom-com. She claims to be a minimalist, but her vanity tells a different story. Marketed as effortless and pared-down, the clean girl aesthetic is anything but. Beneath the surface is a carefully curated world built on invisible consumption, privilege, and a whole lot of waste.

An Illusion Of Effortlessness

The clean girl is all about looking effortlessly put together. But she also contradicts it when using multiple products for her 20-step skincare and makeup routine. Think: sheer tinted serums, brow gels, lip oils, de-puffing tools, high-end hair products, and don’t forget the Dyson Airwrap. Achieving “natural” beauty has never required more products.

With all this, minimalism is just a visual concept, not a practice. The aesthetic doesn’t practise living with less; it appears low-maintenance. The whole “less is more” vibe has overconsumption underlying it.  

Is Clean Girl Really Clean?

In addition to being expensive, the clean girl's toolkit raises concerns about the environment. The packaging, the sheer volume of items, and the seasonally changed fast fashion outfits to keep the colour scheme neutral all add up. Many of these products are packaged in single-use plastics, shipped in layers of branded tissue, and restocked constantly to keep up with trends. And while the term “clean” suggests sustainability, it's often used as a marketing buzzword, not a measure of eco-friendliness.

From microtrends like skin cycling to the viral obsession with glazed donut skin, there's always a new essential product to buy — even when your skin doesn’t need it. The result? A cycle of overconsumption that contradicts the minimalist image the clean girl promotes. 

Who Is A Clean Girl? 

The clean girl is just a label that they try to sell, but underneath the label are many more hidden, problematic things. Also, if you thought anyone could be a ‘Clean Girl’, you’re highly mistaken. It is only the white, skinny, and rich girls who can. Ironically, the slicked-back hair and golden hoops have been a black and brown women staple for a very long time. We all remember going to school with oil in our hair and braids. Well, guess what? That was a clean girl before it became a trend. But she only became aspirational when filtered through whiteness and wealth. 

If the clean girl wants to be truly clean, maybe it’s time to drop the performance. Clean could mean conscious, not curated. Sustainable, not stylised. It could mean less — fewer products, fewer pressures, less pretending. Maybe the real clean girl is the one who stopped trying to aestheticise her entire life.

Because what’s the point of looking effortless if it’s taking everything you’ve got?