“What do you do?” always seems to be the first question we ask one another nowadays, so it’s no surprise that Gen Z and younger Millennials often form much of their identity around their work. With each day increasingly marked by economic and cultural uncertainty, the office becomes a romantic, mise-en-scene that entices and promises a certain structure and rigidity that is rarely found elsewhere. Is the office… sexy? Catalysed by the (not-so-sexy) pandemic, as our ability to socialise in physical spaces dwindled, a nostalgic desire to return to the office was born. For most of Gen Z, who never had the experience of the 9-5 pathway, it’s more than just nostalgia. The office becomes a reclamation of a reality (and identity) that was never theirs.

The #officesiren, #officecore and #sirencore neatly packages corporate life into slicked-back hairstyles, fresh “clean girl” makeup, bodycon pencil skirts, ballet flats and kitten heels, paired with Bayonetta “Miu Miu” glasses, all integral to forming “the Siren”. A grown up sister of the Millennial “girlboss”, a trend which was popularised from the early to mid 2010s, it’s not just about being a self-made woman who’s made it to the top and eschews corporate accolades and achievements, but the aesthetics that accompanies them. Think less Miranda in Sex and the City and more Gisele Bünchden in The Devil Wears Prada. It’s these theatrics that are perhaps so attractive to a generation who has spent much of their life engaging with social performance. The rise of social media (expedited by the prominence of influencers since 2016) has shifted the way younger generations form personhood. Personal style and self expression is no longer cemented through their own engagement with culture or subcultural trends, more often than not, Gen Z’s personhood feels flaccid and malleable, defined by what is marketed to them. Arguably, the essence of personal identity has been reduced down to how well one performs quick-paced and everchanging social media trend cycles. Beauty, therefore, becomes a gateway to which one can access ‘persona’ and an identity in minutes, rather than the 10 years it would take to become that person. The office therefore becomes a perfect physical manifestation of social media dynamics and performance of the self.

The distinction between the Girlboss and the Office Siren highlights the generational shift towards aesthetics and aesthetic values. The Girlboss was anchored in female empowerment, continuing the work of its predecessors by striving for representation in the corporate and political sphere. In contrast, Gen Z’s Office Siren reframes the workplace as a stage of personal expression, often perceived to be void of any feminism, hinging on the sexualisation of the body as part of the capitalist machine. As writer Amy Francombe posits, “The office is less a neutral workspace and more of a stage. This shift is tied to ‘influencer creep’, which is the seepage of social media logics into every profession…we’re constantly thinking how we can ‘aesthetise our work’”. Arguably, this desire to aestheticise and romanticise corporate life is not born purely out of vanity, but rather reflects a generation who possess far less personal and economic power than their predecessors. If the Girlboss aimed to climb the corporate ladder to become SheEO, the office siren acknowledges that this may not be a tangible reality, so reframes her sense of control and personal empowerment through fantasy, the clothes she adorns and the characters she plays, in order to escape this externally depressing reality. The siren controls her image, not where she sits hierarchically in the corporate ladder. As Jia Tolentino observes; “We have not “optimized” our wages, our childcare system, our political representation.” But rather, we have maximized our capacity as marketable personas.

Furthermore, as AI’s prominence continues to grow and reshape jobs in the corporate world, there is an added cultural value placed on traditional forms of working.