Rose Davis poses with her hair in two cute braids and a slight, dimpled smile, gesturing daintily as she describes her activities as a stay-at-home girlfriend. “Make him breakfast lunch & dinner.” “Clean A LOT.” “Take care of my appearance/beauty appointments.” “Plan trips away.” “See friends and family.” “Make our home a nice/organized/loving place to be!”
She’s beautiful. A brunette with soft brown eyes and full lips. The house visible behind her appears spacious, well-lit, and tastefully decorated. There is even a suitcase in the corner and a vase of lilies on the table.
As I scroll through Rose’s TikTok page, I find myself mostly thinking of the other women—the watching women taking in her gorgeous life from their screens. I wonder what the other invisible, ordinary women like me are thinking. What feelings of inadequacy, dismay, or complicated envy do these videos stir up? I’m not that pretty. I can’t attract a rich man like her. I wish I had the time/money to make my home look that good. What is her plan if he leaves? Is she really happy? Is this all life is for?
The “stay-at-home girlfriend” trend on TikTok centres on mostly childless Gen Z women who stay at home keeping house while their boyfriends take care of the financial responsibilities. The videos have sparked backlash, such as concerns over financial abuse or that these women glorify female domesticity.
Amid the criticism, there’s an undercurrent of resonance. Several of the articles I read suggested women were weary of the girl boss narrative they or their mothers might have once found so empowering. For a lot of women, carrying less significant financial responsibilities is appealing because it allows them to nurture the many aspects of their environments in an integrated way. (By environments, I mean everything from tending to their friendships, immediate families, and communities to personal habits and household routines.) In other words, each aspect of life, including work, fits into a holistic picture.
Most of the women I know feel the tension between income-earning and other responsibilities acutely—particularly if they have children. They have genuine desires for tranquility, stable relationships, and freedom from the frenetic pace of our hustling culture. Often, this puts jobs in direct conflict with their other responsibilities. This may be why, if given the choice, many women opt for flexible work that can be integrated into the rest of their lives. (Of course, for many women, having flexible hours, working from home, or not working at all simply aren’t options due to their economic situations.)
The stay-at-home girlfriend trend, however, presents a fraught example of what “staying at home” could look like. Rose’s TikTok account features multiple videos with advice about how to find a “high-value man.” The lifestyle relies heavily on female beauty and male high financial status. The value exchange here is: “I will be beautiful if you will pay for everything.”
Stay-at-home girlfriend influencers can spend their days doing elaborate beauty routines, shopping, cooking meals (using sponsored health products) and keeping their houses immaculate. They create environments they mostly control. They set the pace and are their own bosses; they have no accountability and few responsibilities.
What is striking is the absence of a larger purpose beyond personal ease—such as caring for children or an aging family member, being involved in their local community, volunteering, pursuing education, passions, or fulfilling work. Experiences like these expand our resilience and capacity to respond to hardships. They stretch our potential and cultivate maturity and virtue. They can involve significant risks. But often, the most rewarding and life-giving aspects of our lives come through these same risks.
As Mary Harrington (author of Feminism Against Progress) notes, during the agrarian societies of most of human history, heterosexual households were economic units. Each partner contributed to the overall survival of the family. The tasks within the home were divided by practical circumstances, with women often doing work like weaving and textile-making. This kind of flexible work, located in the home, fits well with childcare and managing other household responsibilities.
Stay-at-home girlfriend influencers have found a way to bring economic value back into their homes. Unfortunately though, their situation is precarious. Without the legal protection of marriage or common law, they have limited or no rights to property or support if the relationship falls apart. And their influencer income is tied to their youth and beauty, making it not viable long-term.
Mary raises the question: “What does a twenty-first-century version of the premodern productive household look like?” Her question feels like an important one for modern feminism. Today’s workforce has shifted dramatically from the types of work women and men did for centuries. For some women, a modern equivalent of weaving while caretaking or investing in her community is the ideal. For others, it is stifling. The labour arrangements will look different for different couples, and in different life seasons.
I think the work-from-home transition precipitated by Covid will positively affect women’s ability to work flexibly. However, we’re still experiencing the growing pains of a contemporary working world that is relearning to accommodate women interested in tending to their environments, especially if they wish to stay at home with their children. The stay-at-home-girlfriend trend might be an illustration of these growing pains. But any arrangement that lacks robust mutuality and commitment is likely to become weak or unfulfilling for one or both partners.