If you’ve noticed a shift in digital content toward flashy animal prints, dense fur coats and large statement jewelry, you are not alone. The “Mob Wife Aesthetic” has officially taken over TikTok.
Seemingly overnight, FYPs (For Your Pages) have become an algorithmic shrine to the looks of the wives and partners of mafia-adjacent men. (Think Drea de Matteo as Adriana La Cerva in The Sopranos or Lorraine Bracco’s portrayal of Karen Hill in Goodfellas.) Like most trends on TikTok, the exact origin of the trend is murky. In October, a TikTok creator by the name of broke down the how-to of the mob wife aesthetic, but others accredit TikTok user Mikayla Toninato for taking the trend to the next level in January of this year.
However it started, the trend is now virtually inescapable as there are now over 190 million views under the #mobwife hashtag. Most of the videos under this tag are people showing off their spin on the looks by styling their fur coats or showing off their chunky French manicures and bold red lips. Not all of the videos are from eager participants ready to get their Carmela Soprano on though. In fact, it has almost become routine for any trend that gains traction on the app to soon be met with pushback in the form of response videos and divisive comment sections. From quippy remarks poking fun at the frivolous nature of TikTok trends in general to lengthy diatribes expressing why this teeters on cultural appropriation, this trend is simply the latest in a long line of micro-trends thought to be nothing more than a surface-level grasp at sartorial straws.
One such critique that has stuck out, however, is the notion that those hopping on the trend are appropriating the culture of Italian Americans. In response to the trend’s popularity, one user shared a video stating “Our culture is not your costume,” an interpretation of a phrase created and used primarily by minority communities to push back against widespread appropriation. This has left many lifelong fur coat enthusiasts and cheetah print connoisseurs confused: What do you mean this sickening, ankle-grazing-fur that was passed down to me by my great aunt is a cultural pilferage?
Now, there is undoubtedly a link between Italian American culture and the glamorization of the mob-related lifestyle. Opulence, danger and over-the-top fashions are a few of the most common associations with the lifestyles we’ve seen played out in shows like Mob Wives. (RIP Big Ang!) But many observers of the trend are still unsure why and how excessive gold jewelry and chunky French tips are being siloed under this new name when it’s been done en masse by other communities—particularly Black people—for years, often to much ridicule.
“Gaudy” jewelry and body-hugging leather grabs have been staples of the Black aesthetic-sphere for decades and were previously regarded as “ghetto” or “tacky.” This makes TikTok’s newfound appreciation of this mirrored aesthetic sting even more, as no one knows the plight of navigating a stylistically minimalist society with a maximist spirit quite like Black style enthusiasts.
Post-2023, a year that will undoubtedly go down in history as the year of the “baby girl” (ask your local Gen-Zer about the term) as we bore collective witness to the infantilization of fashion and beauty as demonstrated by a collective regressive yearning for girlhood through trends such as ballet core and the coquette bow-happy trend, the mob wife aesthetic marks a change of tide. It is a complete departure from what we are used to seeing be celebrated on the app such as the clean girl aesthetic, known for popularizing a less is more approach to hair and makeup by way of slick buns, lighter makeup and matching Lululemon workout sets. In other words, there is something stabilizing about large-scale appreciation for a trend that highlights a more mature presentation. But, this idea that the wives of dangerous men are responsible for this look is cause for considerable pause.
This has been discussed in numerous TikToks by creators who don’t understand exactly what makes this trend any different from their standard winter wardrobe. Other users have taken this moment to pay homage to Patina Miller’s portrayal of Raquel Thomas in Power Book III: Raising Kanan, dubbing her “The Mob Wife for Black women.”
But perhaps one of the greatest ironies in this conversation is what it proves to be true about conversations surrounding cultural appropriation. These white women seem fully capable of understanding the unsavory implications of sampling the aesthetics of another culture — when it’s being done to them. But when it comes to other communities speaking out against the co-optation of their cultural identities— it’s crickets.
As it stands, you’d likely have a better chance at joining the actual mob yourself than convincing Black women they can no longer don their flashy prints or heirloom furs. So, it is unlikely these TikTok claims of copying will go much further than the app. It is always interesting, though, to bear witness to the discourse that unfolds after a new fashion moment begins to pick up traction online, even if we’ve seen it before.
The rigmarole of a new trend entering the zeitgeist while rocketing to widespread praise that is soon drowned out by an influx of critiques can feel like a never-ending ferris wheel. Even the most inquisitive of us often can’t wait to get off that ride. But if these conversations continue to pick up momentum, it’s likely we will all become more conscious consumers because of it.
Already, this trend has brought to the front critical conversations regarding appropriation, race relations in Italy and the current fur economy. This is to say that as our frustrations with our unsustainable consumption habits rise, a more critical approach to trends such as the mob wife aesthetic may help us prioritize more sustainable trend cycles that are rooted in something deeper than a passing TikTok video. Capeesh?
The post Mob Wife Aesthetic or Your Great-Aunt’s Hand-Me-Downs?: Let’s Talk TikTok’s Latest Fashion Trend appeared first on EBONY.