I have long argued that the key to popularity on social media is not creativity, intelligence, or innovation. Yes, there are many funny people and publications, and we are always committed to these good posters. However, the main thing that content needs to be introduced into the mouths of the masses is an element that replaces familiarity with the banal with the natural substance – kinship.
It is why so many unbearable meme accounts have a massive following by stealing tweets and other posts from comedians who have generally caught the public’s attention.
The reason we love humor is that we see ourselves in it. Making a joke and triggering a memory that can connect you with others is a unique and robust experience. Although I am not too fond of relatable humor, I don’t pretend to understand its popularity.
The problem with this is the experiences that people share. How do we interpret them, and how do we tell them? If we hear from the same people again, how can we be sure that these relatable stories relate to everyone? (Spoilers, we can’t, we don’t.)
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Have you ever heard of a “pretty girl”? If you have the misfortune of being active on TikTok, you probably have. You see, just like recent “chav” trends, the hot Cheeto Girl has become a trope for users’ consumption and reproduction. It has a fixed aesthetic and mannerisms, and, most importantly, it is an easy target to circumvent.
Urban Dictionary says that a hot Cheeto girl defines herself as “the only dog everyone has in her class. Somehow, ghetto. Prolly is wearing Thrasher sweatshirts and vans. Always ready to fight a dog. Nicotine addiction? Look. Drug dealer boyfriend of 20 years? Check. Hoop earrings? Check. Is it scary? Check.
Cheeto Girls Love Spicy Food :
“Well, it’s essential to note that “hot Cheeto girl” doesn’t usually refer to race specifically. However, based on the minimum brainpower and the primary signals of the sociological context, we can understand that the Cheeto girl is coded as a minority woman from an urban area. Most hot ghetto girls who love spicy food to go with patented food are, of course, Latinas.
The best videos on the app, labeled “Hot Cheeto Girl,” feature exaggerated depictions of women with South American (primarily Mexican) accents, massive tires, long acrylic paints, and ridiculous, exaggerated false eyelashes. They hit their gum, laugh disgustingly, and yell things like, “Heeey’s best friend!”
The jokes seem to come from the great success of AdamRay’s pink videos. But they transform their sweet and intelligent character, coming from a place of love, into an aggressive, annoying, and unfriendly classmate. Many of the aesthetic choices of Hot Cheeto Girls are also clearly influenced by the black and urban aesthetic. Chicanx and black crops are known to overlap.
This makes sense when you look at the long history of slums and the working class, which are predominantly populated by blacks and Latinos. What doesn’t make sense is that the teens who consume this content are the same ones who argue against racism against black people and cultural appropriation. Don’t you know what they’re making fun of indirectly?
It seems that the image is everything to this new generation, and the sin of wearing the very specific and usually revealing outfits of the pretty girl is unforgivable to her mockery.
Ultimately, I find so disappointing about many of these posts because they contain content from other Latina people. Of course, we have the right to make fun of ourselves before anyone else.
However, I find them disappointing because none of the videos say anything clever or unique about the Latinx experience. Just tick the boxes to see the characteristics of some young Latinas, and then you make fun of them. They’re wearing tires. They eat hot Cheetos in class!
It is the plague of kinship that spreads its head in simple language. So why do we jump to make a fool of ourselves?
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Many teens on the app immediately distract from claims suggesting that the cartoon might be racist. We have to remember that teenagers are just that, and teenagers are not the most skilled at thinking logically.
But about 40 percent of TikTok users are between 16 and 24 years old, which means that in addition to all the creators who post videos and make fun of this girl group, many more see them being ridiculed on the screen to some extent.
In a video, a creator accused of racism posts a response to her over-the-top laughter and then replies, “You’re racist because you think a certain race can only act as I did in the video.”
It could be a fair argument if it existed in a vacuum. But this answer deliberately ignores the fact that stereotypes are rooted in racial generalizations. You don’t have to dye your skin darker for people to understand that you’re biting off elements of a culture that don’t belong to you and that you look stupid in the process.
While this case may be less serious than the myriad and exhausting examples of digital blackface and blackfish we see daily, it still carries weight. It is a stark and confusing contradiction that the very generation of TikTok making so much progress in social progress and human rights feel comfortable adapting their content creation to this simple form of classic and racist harassment. Honestly, it’s just.
Corrosive. Can’t girls eat their snacks and live in peace? Besides, if they knew anything, they’d know she prefers takis anyway.