Have you heard of Audrey Hobert? I was first introduced to her earlier this summer via my Youtube homepage recommending I watch her music video for Sue Me. It’s a really fun watch. I think Hobert directs and edits her own stuff, and she’s a great storyteller. I would describe her vibe as something akin to an early 2000s movie—like a girl pretending to go on a world tour from her bedroom. Also, if you’re living under a bit of an esoteric rock like me, you wouldn’t have known that she’s also the childhood best friend and collaborator of Gracie Abrams. All of this goes to say that, recently, Hobert has decided to pursue a solo career, and the internet is kind of massively hating on it. I compiled a list of TikTok comments I’ve seen on her videos, saying such things as:
“she seems so fun but also I am terrified of her”
“so awkward it’s liberating I love it”
“I feel like she’s what Taylor Swift sounds like to Taylor Swift haters”
“honestly… slay, girl! You are your own vibe… i don’t know what it is… but i LOVE IT”
“imagine if you unreleased this song”
“she reminds me of Miranda Sings”
These comments range from downright rude to that really special brand of internet lexicon that is the incredibly backhanded compliment. And I just hate a backhanded compliment. It’s as simple as a seemingly harmless comment under some girl’s video saying, love your confidence! you look like you’d give great hugs! or trying to bring a level of poeticism to mask how the person commenting, or society at large, feels uncomfortable giving normal compliments to people that aren’t “conventionally attractive.”
This comes up in the Audrey Hobert internet discourse, with people pitting her against the reigning it-girl of the moment, Addison Rae: “If Audrey Hobert were more conventionally attractive she would be the new it girl and y’all would give her a similar attitude and energy as Addison Rae. Had to be said.”
Why pit weird girls against each other? Society—but mainly social media—shames girls for looking “basic,” or getting plastic surgery. But girls who are unique and unabashedly themselves receive the same treatment. Similarly, singer Lola Young of Messy fame is treated identically: “guys i love her, but is she ok?”
These comparisons beg the question, why is it only acceptable to be weird and hot? Arguably Addison Rae is doing, dare I say, weirder-ass stuff than Hobert and Young. We all saw the single cover art for High Fashion with the title written on the soles of her feet. She gets a pass, or just less criticism, because she is conventionally attractive. Somehow, she’s making this “weird” rebrand work for her, and it’s puzzling why the effects aren’t as positive for other artists who are just as authentic.
It’s 2025, aren’t we all on board with the “everyone is special, embrace your differences” bullshit?
In a recent interview with ABC news, author Ocean Vuong put it succinctly: young people have become increasingly averse to looking like they’re “trying,” which he believes certainly has to do with the surveillance culture of social media. “They are scared of judgement, and perform cynicism,” he says, “Something that can often be misread as intelligence.” Vuong explains how the facade of being “too cool” and finding things “cringe” is really just “embarrassment when sincerity is in the room.” There’s an overwhelming pressure to feel like one has to hide for fear of ridicule and condemnation instead of being liberated and earnest. This phenomenon detracts from the genuine enjoyment of people’s passions and hobbies, creating shame instead of joy.
I think it has a lot to do with projecting one’s own insecurities onto others. It’s not all that different from your run-of-the-mill middle school lunch hour bullying. Society has made a meme of people’s authenticity and passion. But I think the tide is shifting, slowly.
I am cringe, but I am free.
I’ve been thinking a lot about this move to the weird, and why it’s hot on the collective consciousness. Maybe it has something to do with the phenomenon of being in your twenties and suddenly enjoying the things you liked in middle school without the same level of shame or self-consciousness. Growing up—or, just your frontal lobe developing—comes with a greater sense of self-acceptance and generally worrying less about what others think. Insert that unshackled stock image with the sunset. You know the one.
I think there’s a resurgence of being earnest. Passion is back: look at Timothée Chalamet’s SAG award speech, his unrelenting dedication to “the pursuit of greatness.” Those who aren’t scared of being perceived as “cringe,” or being perceived in general, really, are the ones that will go on to find success.
I say bring back being awkward—more importantly, bring back being yourself. It’s cool to be weird! Without a doubt, that’s the key to being content with yourself and your life. I don’t mean to get all preachy here, and I’ll be the first to admit that I’m still on the road to enlightenment. I’m incredibly averse to second-hand embarrassment, dislike unexpected conversations, and constantly think about how others perceive me. But I try my darndest not to pander to others, trying to stay true to myself: the way I want to look; the music I like to listen to; the media I like to consume; the people I surround myself with.
The obsession with being nonchalant is ruining our chances of human connection. I think the most interesting people are the ones that are genuine, enthusiastic—don’t get me started on my heavy-handed use of exclamation marks—passionate and knowledgeable about the things they care about, and care deeply about their values. What type of life will you lead if you’re purposefully disconnected from it?
In this whole discourse of nonchalance versus “try-hard,” I think it’s really fascinating to note that our taste is the most formative when we’re around thirteen-fourteen years old. On average, most people’s music taste is developed at that age, with a study conducted on Spotify showing that people’s favourite songs are consistently the ones that came out in their early teens. Teenagers are at a crossroads of shaping their taste while feeling ashamed to express it, developing the fear of not being successful.
I think Audrey Hobert is doing something right. “The little girl in me is so obsessed with her,” one commenter wrote on TikTok, “me and my cousins dancing for a sleepover when we were little,” says another. It’s refreshing, but also scary. Hobert presents us with a different attitude: truly not caring what others think of her and honouring her authentic self. This sets her apart in a sea of people trying really hard to “not care,” and appeals to the continued resurgence of “girlhood” that young adult women seek. People just hate when other people are having a good time, hey?