How “performative” can a male be? Nobody knows the extent to which this trend will continue, and many don’t understand the basics of what it is. Recently, a new type of masculinity has emerged. Enter the “performative male,” a man who curates his self-image based on societal ideals. Attempting to set up a perfect social media image, a performative male brands himself through non-masculine ideals.
The performative male is not just someone who follows trends, but creates and displays them. According to reporters Alisha Haridasani Gupta and Nicole Stock with The New York Times, this performativity isn’t random; it’s shaped by newfound awareness of how masculinity is being critiqued and reimagined in real time. From influencers on Instagram to TikTok, these men perform to seem vulnerable yet still in control of their emotions. As Kian Bakhtiari with Forbes notes, many Gen Z men lean into “meta masculinity,” ironically performing tropes while appearing self-aware, constantly blurring the line between critique and reinforcement. Whether it’s through gym selfies, “alpha” behavior, or even their political stances, the performance of this new version of masculinity becomes a key part of their identity. This curated persona sharply contrasts with the reality of mental health issues and societal pressures that many men face in private.
But beneath the polished surface, is this woke version of masculinity liberating or limiting? For some, it offers a platform for self-expression, but for others, it may deepen the disconnection between who they truly are and what they feel the need to project. Kayla Kibbe with Cosmopolitan highlights how this tension can lead to emotional burnout, as men feel pressure to maintain a “feminist” or emotionally intelligent front. As society continues to question traditional gender norms, the performative male has become one of the most complex and contradictory figures today.
Throughout Bronx Science, the performative male has found his home. Whether dressed in perfectly mismatched and thrifted layers of clothing or carrying a tote bag with unread feminist literature, performative males aren’t just trying to dress well: they’re trying to be seen as that guy. The sensitive one. The feminist ally. But behind every look lies a deeper question: is it genuine growth or is it just another trend?
At this year’s Spirit Week, our school designated a day as “Performative Day,” asking students to ironically dress up as this persona. While the day was meant to be lighthearted and comedic, the commentary behind these outfits became surprisingly revealing. I took the opportunity to interview several students who participated in the day, whether they were fully committed or just self-aware. I’m happy to say that their answers did not disappoint, and they said a lot more about what a performative male is than their outfits ever could.
Noah Stutman ’26 confidently explained, “I believe that a performative male is someone who is acting differently to seek attention from women.” When asked how he participated, Noah listed off typical accessories: an iced matcha latte, baggy jeans, and a tight shirt. Did it work? “Oh yeah,” he grinned.
While Stutman embraced the assignment, others approached the concept more critically. Jake Jennino ’26 offered a more complex definition, “A performative male is somebody who tries to give off that they live a lifestyle that perhaps they don’t, in order to attract attention from females.” In other words, image over authenticity. Jennino didn’t go all out with his outfit, but he brought accessories. His goal? Signaling just enough to imply his performative-ness. From his answer, it became clear that dressing this way is not about being a certain type of guy, it’s about appearing like you are.
Perhaps the most detailed and self-aware outfit came from Kourosh Moussavi ’26. “A performative male is someone who performs to try to be the ideal male in the female gaze,” he said. “So I got my matcha latte, it’s not actually matcha; feminist literature, even though it’s not feminist literature. And we got jorts, sambas, and a sleeveless undershirt layered under a patterned button-up… I’m just trying to be someone to attract a girl.” It was hard not to see the irony behind the persona; a performative male is trying so hard to be effortless.
Avery Schrag ’26 was one of the students who took the look the furthest, explaining, “I thought first, I have to be reading. Obviously, I have to show the women I’m intellectual. It doesn’t matter what book it is and that it’s upside down,” he added. But the props didn’t stop there. No labubu? No problem. He subbed in a random stuffed animal. His shirt was pink and purple to show support for breast cancer awareness, and he wore two pairs of headphones to balance “form over function” and “function over form.” When asked to elaborate, he explained. “I want to show people that I’m a caring individual but also that I actually listen to my music.” Every detail of Schrag’s outfit was meant to signal something deeper. When asked to rate himself, Schrag gave his look a “calm” 8/10. “I’m seeing a lot of matcha around,” he added. “I don’t have a matcha, and I don’t have a tote bag.” But even without a tote bag, Avery’s look was a perfect satire of the trend. His outfit captured what so many students have just begun to understand: being a “performative male” is less about actual change and more about looking like change.
The performative male isn’t limited to high school spirit days. He exists everywhere: on TikTok, in college campuses, in New York cafes, and in the comment sections of social media. He posts thirst traps with long captions about mental health, trying to garner sympathy from others. He will wear a vintage band tee and then admit that he has never heard the band’s music.
This new form of masculinity is often based on how well one can perform. According to sociologist C.J. Pascoe, young men often navigate masculinity by learning how to “perform” gender roles, sometimes reinforcing traditional masculinity, and other times altering it to seek clout or attention.
Platforms like TikTok have only heightened this. The app is filled with men who lean into “supportive boyfriend” aesthetics: layered silver jewelry, thrifted sweaters, and sad music. They’re the ones who post “feminist takes” while maintaining a curated and emotionally accessible vibe. But it’s hard to tell when these takes are real and when they’re strategy.
As Kayla Kibbe with Cosmopolitan reports, this creates an emotional double-bind for Gen-Z men. The cultural expectation is to be vulnerable, emotionally intelligent, socially conscious, but still “hot.”
On one hand, performative masculinity can serve as a gateway for deeper self-awareness. Some guys might start reading feminist literature because it’s trendy, and then actually start internalizing those values. The performance becomes real over time. On the surface, this performative shift has moved masculinity away from being aggressive, homophobic, or emotionally repressive.
But on the other hand, it’s still a performance. It places new pressure on young men to constantly curate their identity. Instead of being the “alpha male,” you now have to be the perfect “ally.” Instead of pretending to be tough, now you’re pretending to be soft. Either way, you’re pretending.
The problem is that emotional maturity isn’t an aesthetic. Feminism isn’t a prop. Real allyship and self-awareness come from being open to change, not just wearing the right clothing or carrying a matcha with you. Most importantly, real growth doesn’t always need to be posted online.
Noah might have gotten attention with his iced matcha and tight shirt. Jake may have chosen to lay low, and Kourosh might have swung and missed. Avery put on a near-flawless satire of the entire trend. But underneath all the jokes and self-awareness, there’s honesty.
These guys know it’s a performance, and they’re in on the joke, but maybe that’s what makes it so powerful. The fact that students can dress up as “performative males” for Spirit Week shows a deep understanding of how masculinity works in their world. In my opinion, however, performative day helped to explore the humor behind the persona.
For a generation growing up online, where everything from your outfit to your politics is scrutinized, the pressure to perform never really stops. Moments like Performative Day offer a chance to laugh at the absurdity of it all, to question what’s real, what’s fake, and whether it even matters.
In the end, the true mark of masculinity isn’t how well you perform, but how willing you are to admit that you are performing. If you can do that with an iced matcha latte and a feminist book in hand, then maybe you’re doing okay.
Recently, a new type of masculinity has emerged. Enter the “performative male,” a man who curates his self-image based on societal ideals. Attempting to set up a perfect social media image, a performative male brands himself through non-masculine ideals.