A few weeks ago, my girlfriend and I excitedly got on a call together to watch the highly anticipated film Priscilla, directed by Sofia Coppola. The film follows Priscilla Presley, ex-wife of internationally renowned superstar Elvis Presley, and explores the dynamics of their relationship in contrast with their glamorous public image.
With the power of actress Cailee Spaeny, makeup, and costume design, the film emphasized just how young Priscilla was when she met Elvis. The real-life Priscilla confirmed their age gap in her 1985 essay for People, writing that she was 14 and Presley was 24 when they first met.
The film also depicted the abuse and lying within their relationship, as well as Presley’s desire for her to dress in specific ways and remain a virgin until marriage. According to Priscilla, he honoured fidelity “on the woman’s part.”
Between the soft filters, pastel colours, and neutral tones, the entire essence of the film is feminine, sombre, and innocent. Somehow, because of this, I felt that the film’s central relationship would become glamorized. After a quick scan of video edits on Instagram, my suspicions were confirmed.
Just to disclaim, I don’t think the film romanticized or glamourized the predatory and abusive elements of Elvis and Priscilla’s relationship. I am referring solely to posts and edits made of the film after its release.
But it made me wonder. Why was I so certain because of the aesthetic of this film, fans would engage in glamorization of the abuse, mistreatment, and predatory behaviours within the relationship? After some research and reading, I realized that it was due to my own observations of accounts and posts on social media platforms, which intrinsically tied together certain aesthetics to abusive and predatory relationships.
In current pop culture, that aesthetic has the name “coquette.”
The Origins and Nature of Coquette
According to Kristin D. Greenwalt’s article in Medium, coquette, a word that describes a flirtatious woman in French, is an aesthetic that consists of hyper-feminine fashion, including lace, bows, pink hues, and hearts. It’s an aesthetic that encourages embracing and celebrating femininity and girliness, allowing engagers to connect with activities and styles they may have been previously discouraged from.
Personally, I can’t help but smile when I see Reels of pets in pretty bows and people embracing childhood hobbies they may have avoided growing up. As someone who grew up constantly switching between feeling ashamed of my femininity and my masculinity, it’s refreshing to see such delight in feminine things that society often demeans, rejects, or mocks.
But why is the aesthetic of coquette so often linked to, and criticized for, the romanticization of abuse?
The answer lies in coquette’s origins. Greenwalt said the aesthetic’s online presence is derived from Japanese Lolita fashion and the nymphet aesthetic. The nymphet aesthetic, according to The Origins of “Coquette,” is connected to Vladimir Nabokov’s novel, Lolita, published in 1955. The novel is written from the perspective of Humbert Humbert, a man who preys upon a 12-year-old girl named Delores, whom he calls a “nymphet.”
Tumblr’s Subculture
According to Mishka Hoosen, the nymphet aesthetic included a subculture on Tumblr with still images, quotes, and depictions of films with age-gap relationships, as well as self-identifying as “nymphets” and encouraging dressing like one. Hoosen explained that reactions to this subculture include criticisms of “self-fetishization.” She perceived it as a group of women and young girls who deeply relate to the mistreatment, abuse, and fetishization of Delores.
It does not help that book covers of Lolita and the novel’s film adaptations often fail to capture the true horror of the story. Sarah Kathryn Cleaver describes how covers range from menacing to sombre to straight-up erotic images of young girls, and Lucia Rhiannon Harrison’s Bare Magazine article on coquette’s origins describes Stanley Kubrick’s film as “severely downplaying the abuse.”
Cleaver wrote that the range of members within the nymphet community includes those with “feeds of anything pastel-coloured” and others who are “upsettingly dark.” Cleaver noted that singer Lana del Rey is also considered a major part of this community, for several of her songs directly reference Lolita. Her music also conveys the “soft, airy feeling” that suits coquette.
It seems that due to coquette’s association with the nymphet community and culture, it’s thereby also criticized for glamourizing abuse. But Greenwalt highlighted in her Medium article that, unlike the nymphet subculture, coquette doesn’t focus on the sexualization of minors. However, because both emphasize hyper-feminine fashions and visuals, they’re connected to abuse in pop culture and criticism.
The Validity of the Criticisms
This begs the question, how fair is the association? What is it about soft feminism and things considered “girly” that makes audiences and artists connect those aesthetics to abuse and predatory relationships? Coquette, after all, does not emphasize age, yet is still accused of romanticizing abuse.
I think this has to do with coquette’s element of femininity itself rather than its connection to past subcultures. Aspects of this aesthetic, like pink, bows, and frills, are heavily associated with femininity and its traditional characteristics, such as innocence and delicateness. They are also linked to youthfulness and go against the expectations of fashion in adulthood.
For example, according to Loren Smith’s article, bows are “linked to children” and are displays of “softness and compliance.” I think this causes viewers to perceive pastels, pinks, and hyper-feminine fashion in film as signalling a lack of independence, autonomy, and even adulthood, associating coquette with, or considering it an indication of, abuse.
To some people, the allegations against coquette are actually a sign of the stigma, control, and sexualization of girlhood and its visual styles. Harrison wrote that coquette is an embrace of childlike freedom and intentional choices of one’s presentation. I do think that it’s important to acknowledge when abuse is depicted through rose-coloured glasses, as well as how visuals and subcultures factor into this problem. Yet framing a widespread aesthetic as being connected to abuse, as a whole, specifically due to its femininity, is immensely harmful.
To me, it not only potentially generalizes an entire style that, for many, is completely disconnected from harmful relationships, but it further perpetuates associations of femininity with infantilization, submission, and a lack of autonomy. It can also lead to the stigmatization of people who have done nothing but engage in coquette fashion trends, which is unfair and also pins the blame of abuse on people engaging in a certain aesthetic rather than abusers themselves.
With all the contrasting perspectives, it can be difficult to determine one’s own opinion on the aesthetic of coquette and the critiques against it. I try to go about it by keeping in mind that it’s important to ensure that the blame is not directed toward victims or those who are innocent.
I think turning abuse into a love story is wrong, such as when Lolita or dangerous age gaps are celebrated as displays of romance. To use aesthetics to fulfill this, such as the horrific book covers of Lolita or imitating abuse victims as though they are a trend, is also worth criticizing, in my opinion.
But, to perceive fashions, aesthetics, and activities of girlhood as inherently problematic and encouraging of abuse, simply due to their femininity, can only lead to one question: are we criticizing endorsers and participants of abuse, or are we targeting pieces of feminine aesthetics that have already been abused and ridiculed under the male gaze?
If you or someone you know is experiencing domestic abuse, call 911 or the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1(800) 799-SAFE (7233) or visit thehotline.org