An Ode to the Maximalism of Northern English Beauty
Words: Laura Molloy
Make it stand out
In December a video montage of young women on a night out in Manchester began circulating X. A scathing caption reads “how’d this happen to the British empire?” - a misogynistic sentiment echoed by commenters picking apart the barely there bodycon dresses and maximalist makeup looks of the clip’s unknowing subjects. It’s one of hundreds of sneakily recorded videos of women at all stages of their night out in the city, collated by anonymous accounts on TikTok. From girls heading out with a fresh post-pre-drinks glow, flicking pristine swathes of long hair over their shoulder, to their drunken journeys home, stumbling along a pavement shining from a recent Northern downpour in 6-inch stilettos - all is documented and uploaded without consent.
The virality suggests that there’s some novelty in these videos, perhaps in their ability to offer a window to British nightlife that may seem outlandish to an outsider. Yet, having grown up in West Yorkshire, to me they’re simply a glimpse of home. It’s a familiar scene that, when combined with digital mockery, reminds me that although almost a decade has passed since my first nights out up North, little has changed.
Since moving away from Yorkshire, I’ve heard endless jokes about Northern girls. The material follows a similar, tired format: Outdated references to Geordie Shore, ridicule of the skimpy outfits that are commonplace on our high streets at 1am and disgust at the more-is-more approach to make-up that remains despite the rise of ‘clean girl’ beauty. Each joke, though often declared harmless by the perpetrator, is instilled with the same sense of casual misogyny that permeates these videos. They speak to a wider culture where women are relentlessly assigned insane standards of femininity, only to be humiliated in their efforts to meet them.
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Of course, it’s an attitude that extends well beyond the UK. Recently Kanye West has been accused of purposely humiliating his wife Bianca Censori, after styling her in a series of controversial looks. While Censori is seen in paparazzi shots barefoot, barely covered by shreds of fabric or plastic, West walks alongside her, fully clothed. Similarly, the creators of the videos of Northern women’s evenings out are keen to humiliate women for their own gain - whether it be shock publicity or for the meagre prize of TikTok views. And, unfortunately, it’s not an isolated occurrence. Recent stats that found Gen Z men and boys are more likely than baby boomers to believe that feminism is harmful, undoubtedly thanks to the prominence of men’s rights influencers, and podcasts like Cum Town. This rise in misogyny among young people sees a widespread mockery made of a nightlife culture that’s existed for decades, and it threatens to slowly pick apart a practice that has subtly defined an entire region through false eyelashes and contour.
The prominence of these hyper-feminine beauty trends also points to a greater gender divide in the North itself, seemingly a residue of strict gender roles enforced during industrial eras where a North/South economic divide also manifested culturally. Excess and glamour have also long thrived in communities impacted by wealth divide, evident in the ‘lipstick index’ that sees higher spending on cosmetics during times of economic crisis. In the North, austerity takes the form of creaky one-carriage trains that barely arrive on the hour while transport down south is consistently improved, fewer opportunities to access higher education and even a lower life expectancy. It’s perhaps why Northern England has adopted a reputation for celebrating life to a greater extent than the south - why the nightlife is arguably better and why the beauty and fashion gets more and more maximalist the further you go up the M1.
In some ways, economic divide has long fostered creativity in the North, with young artists punctuating the mundanity of a life overlooked by a government that only makes appearances near election time. It’s why the vast region has a deep sense of identity and pride (and why the nightlife is better). Yet while the North’s musical efforts are heralded examples of British ingenuity, it still seems that the distinctively Northern glamour and beauty rituals are never recognised for the cultural phenomenon that they truly are. Much of the widely recognised Northern culture is steeped in ‘laddishness’, with bands like Oasis still deemed the pinnacle of Northern identity, leaving little room for the female efforts to be celebrated.
Mocking it, then, further excludes recognition of a cultural phenomenon that is truly forged around community. Looks aren’t curated alone but are often a group effort and even a multiple-day routine, often all for the sake of a subpar club night in a post-industrial town. The process is as important, if not more, than the result - there’s no facade of ‘waking up like this’ as the beauty lies in the effort; the hours spent applying make-up, scouring the internet for an outfit or investing significant amounts of money in hair extensions.
The importance of glamour in Northern society can’t be understated - it’s a commitment that runs deep, a ritual that embeds itself into the fabric of our lives from adolescence.
The importance of glamour in Northern society can’t be understated - it’s a commitment that runs deep, a ritual that embeds itself into the fabric of our lives from adolescence. On Friday mornings the biscuity scent of cheap fake tan permeates the cold air of maths classrooms across the North, and girls wander around town centres on Saturday afternoons with their hair in rollers, ready to return to the same cobbled streets in mere hours to debut the look. Even the harshest winters can’t dampen the commitment, with the only layers worn being of Bondi Sands dupes and the only thing resembling fur being faux mink lashes. It’s so normal to forgo a coat that I have genuinely no idea if the clubs I grew up going to had cloakrooms - but I do remember which toilets had hair straighteners plugged into the walls for free usage by patrons.
From an outside perspective, our Northern dedication to glamour seems absurd - evident in the endless student forums penned by southern students witnessing their first Saturday night in Leeds. Yet I truly believe the aesthetic of a Yorkshire girly going out is an overlooked aspect of British youth culture, one that is forever immortalised in the endless doorway outfit photos taken pre-night out - always accessorised with an oversized glass of pink gin and lemonade.
Mockery, then, not only risks degrading women simply trying to enjoy their lives, but also seems to simplify a practice that is long overdue its credit. It’s an idea summarised by, Dr Helen Smith, writing in an essay on gender and the North: “The North of England, particularly the towns and cities created and expanded by the Industrial Revolution, has famously been seen as a place where men were men and women...well women made the best of it.” Making the best of it, in my experience, means an unapologetic dedication to glamour in the face of economic austerity and gale force winds - and that’s something that sexist TikToker’s should never take away.