The “clean girl” aesthetic is hitting a little too close to home.

The slick bun, oiled hair, minimal makeup look is everywhere right now...

It’s being called the “clean girl” aesthetic, and it’s framed as calm, put-together, and effortless. For a lot of Pakistani girls who grew up in the West, it doesn’t feel new. It feels familiar, in a slightly uncomfortable way.

Growing up, many of us went to school with oiled hair and tight braids because that’s what our mothers did. It wasn’t about trends or aesthetics. It was about care, routine, and looking “proper” before leaving the house. Hair oil was normal.

At school, that same look didn’t translate that way. Oily hair was called greasy. A lot of us learned early that what was normal at home wasn’t acceptable outside.

Now, scrolling through social media, it’s hard not to notice the overlap. Hair oil is suddenly self-care. Slicked-back hair is elegant. The tight bun is intentional, polished, and aspirational. The look hasn’t changed, just the way it’s being framed. What’s strange isn’t that the aesthetic exists, it’s that it’s being celebrated now, when so many girls were once made to feel embarrassed for it. There’s a quiet disconnect between who was allowed to wear it confidently back then and who is praised for it now.

For a lot of Pakistani girls, this isn’t about gatekeeping a hairstyle. It’s about recognising how cultural practices are often only accepted once they’re rebranded, renamed, and separated from the people they came from.

At the same time, something is healing about seeing Pakistani girls embrace the slick bun again, not because it’s trending, but because it never really left. This time, it’s a choice. Not something to hide or explain, but something to wear comfortably.

Maybe the point isn’t whether the “clean girl” aesthetic is good or bad. Maybe it’s just about noticing how often things we were once teased for come back around as trends and who gets to define what looks “put together.”

Noor Munawar