The news has been circling for some time now that members of generation Z really hate side-parted hair and that, in turn, they absolutely love centre partings – the belief held by the all-knowing TikTok teens being that if you have the latter style combed into your fringe it makes you look old, while the former will make you look young and, well, hip (so shoot me, I'm a millennial).
The debate started in earnest last year when @Lady-Gleep stated on the platform, “Prove me wrong, but I don’t think there is a single person who looks better with a side part than they do a middle part.” The argument intensified in the early weeks of this year as both gen Zers and millennials started posting at each other to defend/deride whichever hairstyle they had/didn't have.
And though the vitriolic game of a digital ping-pong has occurred predominantly between TikTok's female users, the platform's male contingent has started getting more heavily involved recently too. @Julienleo, for instance, posted a video of himself walking down the street sporting a full set of curtains accompanied by the caption, “Perks of being called hot by the girls in my school… idk… ask my brother,” while many other gen Zers, including @rizzyriz44 and @zacharywhitmore, have posted step-by-step tutorials demonstrating to their followers how they can achieve perfect drapes themselves.
Better known among TikTok's users as “e-boy” haircuts – so called because the most digitally preoccupied young men of generation Z are the ones sporting them – centre partings, AKA curtains, have quickly become the follicular flavour of the platform. King of the e-boys and TikTok fan favourite Timothée Chalamet has been known to rock a centre parting in his time, as has his e-friend Justin Bieber.
An on-their-'ead expression of the burgeoning obsession that gen Z has with all things 1990s related, the era when the cut first took hold in earnest, it’s not only curtain hairstyles that the Zoomers have started claiming as their own, but also grunge-infused baggy jeans, lock necklaces and wallet chains too.
The truth of the matter is, however, that the vast majority of adults who attempt to rock a centre-parted hairstyle today look as terrible as they did back in the halcyon ooze of the 1990s. From the floppier styles sported by David Beckham and Jamie from EastEnders to the medieval undercuts rocked by the likes of Kavana and Nick Carter, it was a period that arguably begat some of the most challenging 'dos in the history of hair.
I would be fibbing if I said I wasn't desperate for curtains when I was of e-boy age, presumably due to the fact that the Becks and the Backstreet Boys were swirling around the pages of Smash Hits magazine (the TikTok of its day) as I was knee deep in pubescent angst. So eager was I for the cut at the nadir of my hormonal funk that I asked my dad to shear a triangular void directly into the fringe of my mass of thick hair in a bid to achieve the look. I attended school that week with two fluffy horns protruding from my head until the local barber reopened the following Saturday.
As a seasoned observer of social media trends and youth culture, it's apparent that the discourse surrounding hairstyles, especially among Generation Z, is a fascinating intersection of nostalgia, rebellion, and digital expression. The ongoing debate on TikTok about side-parted hair versus center partings, or "curtains," is not just a matter of personal preference but a cultural statement reflecting the zeitgeist of the younger generation.
The evidence supporting this phenomenon is rooted in the viral nature of TikTok trends and the influential voices that propagate them. The initiation of the debate by @Lady-Gleep and the subsequent engagement of both Generation Z and millennials in defending their chosen hairstyles demonstrate the impact of social media platforms in shaping beauty standards and preferences.
Moreover, the active participation of TikTok users, such as @Julienleo, @rizzyriz44, and @zacharywhitmore, in creating content that includes personal experiences, step-by-step tutorials, and humorous anecdotes provides a firsthand account of the cultural shift towards center partings. The usage of terms like "e-boy" haircuts further solidifies the connection between digital culture and contemporary hairstyles, emphasizing how certain looks are associated with specific online subcultures.
The reference to celebrities like Timothée Chalamet and Justin Bieber, who are acknowledged as "King of the e-boys" and a "TikTok fan favorite," adds a layer of celebrity endorsem*nt to the trend. This not only reinforces the cultural significance of center partings but also showcases the influence of digital celebrities in shaping beauty ideals and fashion choices.
The article's exploration of the broader context, including the resurgence of 1990s fashion trends like grunge-infused baggy jeans, lock necklaces, and wallet chains, places the center parting trend within a larger cultural revival. This revival is characterized by Generation Z's fascination with elements from the 1990s, portraying a deep connection to a bygone era that is now being reinterpreted in a digital age.
Finally, the author's personal anecdote about their own experience with attempting the coveted center parting during their "e-boy age" adds a relatable dimension to the narrative. It underscores the enduring appeal of certain hairstyles across generations and highlights how trends from the past continue to influence contemporary fashion choices.
In summary, the ongoing TikTok debate about side-parted hair and center partings is more than just a stylistic preference; it's a dynamic cultural phenomenon deeply embedded in digital culture, nostalgia, and the evolving aesthetics of Generation Z. The evidence lies in the diverse content, celebrity endorsem*nts, and broader cultural context surrounding the debate, making it a captivating subject for those interested in understanding the intricate dynamics of youth culture and online trends.
