The Rise of the Performative Male: Tote Bags, Matcha, and Mild Feminism

We need to talk about the performative male. You’ve seen him. You’ve probably liked his post. He’s that guy who casually drops a quote from The Bell Jar in between his Spotify screenshots and mirror selfies. He’s a feminist—at least between the hours of 9 a.m. and whenever he logs into his private account.

The performative male is not your average dude. No, no. He’s different. He’s self-aware. He owns a tote bag with an ironic print, probably “The New Yorker” logo or some blurry picture of a jazz musician. There’s a Labubu keychain pinned to it. He drinks matcha instead of coffee because “coffee’s too harsh,” and he listens to Clairo unironically. He might post feminist quotes on his story, but don’t ask him to name three female philosophers—he’ll start buffering like a Windows 98 computer.

What sets the performative male apart is his commitment to the aesthetic of caring. He reads We Should All Be Feminists in a café, knowing full well someone will walk by and think, wow, he gets it. He’s not fighting the patriarchy—he’s accessorizing with it.

Now, don’t get me wrong. We appreciate that he’s trying. It’s cute. Society’s bar for men is literally underground, so seeing one hold a book by a woman is practically revolutionary. But there’s something hilarious about how rehearsed it all feels. He’ll post a wholesome “men should cry more” tweet at 3 p.m., then at 3:05 p.m. retweet something that gives off “emotionally unavailable with a vinyl collection” energy. Duality of man, I guess.

The performative male is like if Pinterest became a person and started overanalyzing Normal People. He’s all for “soft boy energy” but only in daylight—at night, his Notes app looks like a war zone of unsent texts and playlist names like “she was the sun.”

And the thing is… he’s kind of winning. He’s charming, he’s curated, and he knows exactly how to look emotionally intelligent without actually processing a single emotion. He’s the kind of guy who says, “I’m not like other men,” and unfortunately, he’s right—he’s a little worse and a little better at the same time.

So yes, let him have his tote bag. Let him post about self-love and then ghost you for three weeks. Let him sip his matcha like it’s a political statement. Because deep down, he’s not hurting anyone. He’s just performing—performing sensitivity, self-awareness, and the illusion of moral superiority.

And honestly? We’ll still double-tap the story.