Nothing influences me more than novelty and anything aesthetic. If it looks pretty or satisfying, you can bet I’ve set my mind to it and I’m far from the only one this applies to. Influencers online have caught onto this phenomenon and as the new academic year begins, it’s increasingly present in academic content.
Search #StudyTok and you’ll find millions of videos romanticising academic life. Perfectly aligned pastel stationery, minimal desk setups and gentle lo-fi playlists are the new academic aesthetic. Still, there’s something soothing about it: the illusion of control in a chaotic world, a reminder that hard work can look beautiful. It’s the kind of content that can make studying feel like self-care, rather than a necessity for your degree. But beneath the soft lighting and fountain pens, there’s an interesting tension between aesthetic productivity and actual productivity.
The line between ‘motivating’ and ‘performative’ blurs quickly. Watching someone highlight their notes in five different colours or time-lapse a three-hour reading session might spark motivation, but it can just as easily fuel comparison. Am I doing enough? Should my notes look like that? Why does my desk look like a battlefield? The visual culture of studying, once about process and mess, now has a distinct brand identity. You’re either the ‘clean girl academic’ with her sleek laptop and neutral-toned workspace, or the ‘chaotic crammer’ surrounded by takeaway boxes and open tabs.
‘Clean girl academia’ follows any ‘clean girl’ trend, inspired by minimalism and aspirational wellness, presenting studying as part of an ordered, balanced lifestyle. It’s calming, but can feel unattainable, especially when real academic life involves stress, deadlines, and a healthy dose of procrastination. On the other hand, the ‘chaotic crammer’ culture offers a kind of messy authenticity. It celebrates all-nighters, caffeine-fuelled breakdowns, and the unfiltered reality of student life. The contrast between the two has become its own form of entertainment: a constant back-and-forth between idealism and irony.
There’s something genuinely community-building about ‘StudyTok’. For many students, especially those studying remotely or feeling isolated, these videos create a sense of solidarity. ‘Study with me’ livestreams mimic the presence of a library buddy, helping students focus on their own work. Grade reveal videos and essay breakdowns turn solitary academic milestones into shared experiences. Even memes about procrastination can make you feel a little less alone in your struggle to get started. In a strange way, performing academia online helps students build identity and connection around something that’s often isolating.
Social media has taken what happened at a smaller scale and widened it. Sharing grades, study advice and rants about student life now reaches wider communities. Students aren’t just studying; they’re curating a version of their intellectual lives that others can engage with. That might sound performative, but it also reflects how our generation navigates authenticity online. We use aesthetics not just to impress, but to express ourselves. They signal effort, ambition, or even exhaustion. Romanticising studying, for all its potential downfalls, can make the grind feel meaningful.
Still, there’s a fine line between motivation and pressure: when academic life becomes content, it risks turning learning into performance. Not everyone’s notes can, or should, look like a Pinterest board. Sometimes the best ideas emerge from chaos, not cohesion. And getting caught up in fitting an aesthetic can take all your time away from the actual work you need to put into your studies.
For me, I’ve learned to treat #StudyTok as a tool rather than a template. I love the calm focus of ‘study with me’ videos and the pretty colours people use for their perfectly curated notes. But I also know that my own studying rarely looks like that. In fact, my notes would suit a doctor’s office more than a student notebook with how rushed my handwriting is. And that’s fine. The point isn’t to be perfect, it’s to keep showing up.
TikTok academia might be polished, parodied, or exaggerated but at its heart, it reveals something hopeful. It shows students trying to find joy and beauty in the grind, connection in the chaos. And maybe we all need to romanticise parts of our lives a bit more, if only to lessen the stress we feel from it.
Words by Megan Ingram-Jones
