The Culinary Chaos of ‘Girl Dinner’
Sorry TikTokers, a jar of olives and a bag of Doritos does not a dinner make.
Of the many things on TikTok that would baffle anyone over the age of 30, arbitrarily gendered concepts and activities are Gen Z’s latest online obsession. Everyone is going on a ‘hot girl walk’ or preparing for a ‘feral girl fall,’ with little obvious explanation about what a stroll or season has to do with being a woman, attractive, or untamed. Yet, there seems to be an unspoken understanding of these terms in the way they are peppered into videos and pictures shared online. The latest in this family of trends, however, offers some food for thought: the varied, chaotic, and often nutritionally questionable ‘girl dinner.’
In its earliest days, girl dinner referred to an assemblage of snacks that comprised something that’s not quite a full, hearty meal but is nourishing nonetheless, with a variety of food groups presented. It was Pinterest-ready charcuterie boards laid with cheese, crackers, and fruit. This girl dinner, as suggested by its name, was dainty, cute, and aesthetically appealing.
The trend quickly went viral online. But, as we know all too well, the internet can never simply have a nice thing without turning it into a post-ironic meme. Many people shared their own takes on the girl dinner, rejecting aesthetics for what they claimed was a realistic take on the culinary choices of women: a plate of Cheez-Its, peanut butter from the jar, unseasoned ramen—all with a dash of sardonic humour.
If this trend feels familiar, it’s because the concept is not new. Ultra low-effort, nutritionally lacking dishes were previously branded in the meme world as ‘depression meals.’ This term was meant to evoke foods that were easy on a mentally ill mind, providing (arguably very little) nutrition at a time when the only option seems to be not eating at all. Of course, the concept of the depression meal came with its own drawbacks. It detracts from positive nutritional messaging and favours humour, however dark, over the promotion of healthy eating habits which could actually improve mental health. Several studies have suggested that a diet rich in fruit, vegetables, whole grains, and healthy fats is linked to an improvement in depressive mood, while adequate dietary sources or supplementation of magnesium can also have this effect. Nutrition plays an important role in regulating mental health, and healthy eating should be promoted as a form of self-care in individuals suffering from mental illness.
But when termed ‘depression meals,’ the underlying implication behind these foods is that they are an attempt at nourishment when the consumer is at an emotional rock bottom. They are not the normal eating habits of someone who is doing well both physically and mentally. If unideal, these meals are at least understandable given the circumstances in which they are prepared.
What does it mean for these depression meals to have become all but synonymous with girl dinners? Considering the low energy value of these foods, the trend seems to suggest that an unwholesome snack can constitute a meal. As more iterations of girl dinner appear in videos and posts online, they not only normalize this view of nutrition but make it something to strive for. According to this take on dinners, women don’t need a balanced diet, as they can live off Diet Pepsi and breadsticks.
It is perhaps disheartening to see the lack of progress we have made in our perspective on women’s nutrition. Despite recent pushes for body positivity and promoting healthy eating over fad diets, the girl dinner trend arguably promotes the same disordered eating behaviours encouraged by the toxic diet culture of the 2000s. Of course, the aughts didn’t have the constant and infinitely scrolling presence of social media to spotlight the unhealthy, dangerous eating habits of glamorous influencers and strangers on the internet. Girl dinners appear to us in shareable, bite-sized reels and TikToks set to funny sounds and popular music. These rack up like after like, resembling a box of Pringles. The comments section is populated by claims of “me fr” and “relatable” from people sipping the iced coffee that alone makes up their breakfast and lunch. And with every online interaction with the trend, the ever-attentive algorithm gathers more ‘girl dinner’ memes and videos to present to the user like a handful of Smarties. The more we engage with the concept, the stronger it grows in our collective consciousness until it seems like the natural way of things. Even as we consume it, it damages our perspective of food, health, and ourselves and provides nothing in return—much like girl dinner itself.
While girl dinner seems to promote stereotypes of how women are expected to consume food, the broader concept of nutritionally deficient meals can be applied to post-secondary students of any gender. The ramen and iced coffee-fuelled university student is a stereotype in its own right, and one that is grounded in reality. Amid deadlines, exams, extracurriculars, and jobs, healthy eating is often put on the back burner. And while it’s understandable to favour a quick Chinese takeout over a home-cooked meal the night before a big exam or during a particularly hectic week of assignments, these unhealthy meals are increasingly touted as the mark of a university student. In other words: are you even in university if you aren’t living off Cheetos and caffeine?
Therein lies the insidiousness at the heart of these chaotic eating habits popularized online. As with any other trend, they create a distinction between those who subscribe to it and are part of a hip, ‘relevant’ group, and those who are out-of-touch with what’s cool at the moment. Both girl dinner and university student eating habits may be grounded in reality, but they are also instrumental in shaping it. As a display of our pop culture know-how, we joke about our ‘unhinged’ and ‘cursed’ meals in real life. Everyone laughs. Slowly and quietly, one bite at a time, we let this become normal.
The problematic nature of girl dinner as a promoter of disordered eating and gendered stereotypes on nutrition has been highlighted before, yet the views and likes roll in. And as some may argue, why shouldn’t they? It’s just a meme, intended to make people laugh as they take a break from the boxing match that is life in young adulthood. Simply put, it’s not that serious.
The research would say otherwise. In Canada alone, around 1 million people would likely meet the criteria to be diagnosed with an eating disorder. Moreover, eating disorders have the highest mortality rate of any other mental illness, with women between 15 and 24 years old being particularly at risk. Given this information, the potential impact of memes and social media posts promoting undernourishment becomes apparent. The effects of social media on mental health and self-esteem have been told and retold for years. When we joke about disordered eating, we dismiss the suffering of those who struggle with it everyday. We make it a #relatable thing we all accept, rather than acknowledge it as the dangerous and damaging behaviour that it is.
There is also the problem that these trends reflect, to an extent, a real problem in access to sufficient healthy food in our economy. With grocery prices skyrocketing along with bills for rent and tuition, university students may struggle to keep their refrigerators stocked with ingredients to make themselves a wholesome meal everyday. Indeed, approximately 40 percent of post-secondary students in Canada face food insecurity. Poor nutrition is linked not only to reduced physical and mental well-being, but also to a decline in academic performance. Addressing the problem of inadequate access to groceries is an uphill battle, made even more difficult by the lack of affordable grocery stores or healthy food outlets on campus. The Scarborough Campus Students’ Union (SCSU) runs a free grocery pick-up service on Mondays and Fridays at their Food Centre, with cereals, produce, canned foods, and other items provided by the Daily Bread Food Bank. Beyond this, students must rely on grocery flyers and discounts, or skimp on the quality of food they consume.
But while grocery prices may not look generous, perhaps our attitude towards nutrition for ourselves and others can be. When many of us face the same struggles, be it financial, academic, or personal, perhaps we can connect in a way that doesn’t turn someone else’s difficult relationship with food into a punchline. The next time you joke about having consumed nothing but coffee all day or posting a sleeve of saltines as your take on girl dinner, consider what those actions say about how you view yourself and the nourishment your body deserves. It’s hard to unlearn the urge to respond to everything with twisted humour and nihilism but it’s worth trying—your efforts might just bear fruit.