Hot girls do pilates, hot girls read, hot girls . . . drink matcha?
Motivational slogans like these have often been seen on visual-centered platforms like Pinterest, TikTok and Instagram, not only signaling the drink’s continuing popularity, but its association with traits like attractiveness, health and ambition.
For most people nowadays, the mere mention of matcha instantly conjures vibrant images, from tea with a grassy taste to desserts, fashion, recipes, influencers and even skincare.
While relatively unheard of in the Western world even 20 years ago, the ongoing matcha craze that started around 2023 has shown no signs of slowing down, with cities on Washington’s Eastside boasting countless cafes both serving and dedicated to the drink.
Historically, matcha’s origins trace back to Tang Dynasty China as steamed, brick tea for Zen Buddhist monks to use in tea ceremonies. In this context, matcha functioned as an inward, ritualistic practice, marked by intention rather than visibility.
The first nudge towards the drink’s popularity began in 2006, when Starbucks adopted it into its menu. However, the drink remained an “if you know you know” for most Americans until recent years, when it skyrocketed into popularity from the rise in social media influencers and overall an increased public presence on these apps.
“Instagram is a huge reason for this, as it’s the cutest new accessory in pics and is no longer just a health trend or an alternative to coffee,” says Cartia Mallan, a content creator and founder of MeloMatcha. While corporate adoption introduced matcha to Western consumers, social media transformed it from a beverage into a cultural symbol.
The rise of social media influencers, like content creator and fashion enthusiast Emma Chamberlain, has motivated many to drink matcha more than they’d like to admit. In 2019, she founded her matcha-centered brand Chamberlain Coffee, leveraging her massive social media presence for strong branding, cute packaging and viral marketing to Gen Z, leading to retail availability in stores like Target and Walmart. Wellness gurus and lifestyle creators like Gwyneth Paltrow and Hailey Bieber, who often feature it for its health benefits, ritualistic appeal or as a trendy coffee alternative, have also increased society’s awareness of the drink.
While matcha’s vibrant green looks striking both on camera and on the street, it’s renowned for its health benefits as well. After all, in a time where beauty and health are fused into one, when a product surges into popularity online, it often checks both boxes. In contrast to coffee, matcha’s L-theanine content provides calm, sustained energy, fewer jitters and a rich antioxidant boost (EGCG), unlike coffee’s sharper, shorter energy spike and crash. Matcha is also gentler on digestion and may improve oral health. Yet as these benefits are increasingly packaged, photographed and shared online, matcha’s role begins to shift from nourishment to branding.
Although no studies have proved that women are the primary consumers of the green drink, it’s hard to ignore how matcha is associated with women and female-centered aesthetics. In fact, the drink has become a staple of internet trends like the “clean girl aesthetic,” which emphasizes natural beauty, polished simplicity and a healthy, organized lifestyle, featuring dewy skin, slicked-back hair and self-care routines like yoga and journaling. When searched on platforms like Pinterest or Instagram, the same photos of thin white women sporting yoga sets and matcha lattes pop up. Sure, these trends may motivate some, but increasingly pushing one type of beauty and encouraging self-improvement for the sake of the camera show more harm than social benefit.
This phenomenon is often referred to as “performative wellness.” Public displays of health activities shift the focus from true inner wellness to external approval, creating pressure to appear disciplined and successful rather than genuinely healthy. This emphasis on external validation often overshadows the internal, authentic journey of well-being. It involves curating an aesthetic of wellness to signal belonging to a certain group or to build a personal brand, even if it creates internal stress or ignores underlying issues. The gap between appearances and actions builds a “performed self” and a “real self,” creating superficiality as a coping tool for stresses and other troubles in life.
The constant push for wellness to be photogenic, for everything to be aesthetically pleasing for the camera, has shown to be closely connected to health-conscious consumerism. With skincare and other self-care trends online pressuring consumers to buy more and more, a question is raised: Is matcha consumed for the sake of appearing healthy to outsiders? Over time, this divide can make wellness feel like an obligation to maintain an image rather than a tool for personal care.
Things like food, drink and other forms of self-care have been increasingly turning people into products offered for consumption on a digital market. With the primary goal being external validation—through views, comments or likes—many have curated an aspirational image that benefits the eye, but not the inner self.
In this sense, matcha is not the problem, but a symptom of a larger cultural shift. While its consumption has many benefits, it’s also a necessary social lesson in grounding and personal awareness. Every time a viral product, especially a health-centered one, appears online, it may be helpful to ask oneself, “Am I doing what’s good for me for the sake of myself or for others’ approval?” In a culture that rewards visibility over well-being, awareness may be the first step toward reclaiming wellness as something personal rather than performative.
