The traditional image of a hangover evokes a scenario of discomfort and regret, marked by mornings under blankets and the incessant consumption of sports drinks. Often, this physical discomfort is accompanied by a feeling of embarrassment due to the previous night’s actions.
However, a different movement has emerged among young people on the digital platforms TikTok and Instagram. Instead of hiding their discomfort, this segment of Generation Z publicly displays their dark circles and intense headaches, interpreting them as a sign of a night of celebration. These “bad decisions” are shared openly, almost with an air of pride.
One of the posts exemplifies this attitude well: a young woman dances while brushing her teeth, wearing loose clothes, and captioned the video with “Romanticizing my hangover because I’m a young girl and that means I had a lot of fun.” The message expresses personal validation, describing the experience as “kind of a beautiful thing.”
The new perception of balance in the routine of young people
Other posts also demonstrate this view: a young woman posted a video smiling during a sunny walk, claiming to be “hungover, but full of love and happiness.” Another influencer turned his own malaise into a status symbol, writing “I’m rotting in my New York apartment and I’m hungover from running around the city until the sun comes up,” while Frank Sinatra’s “New York, New York” served in the background.
This trend can be seen as an ironic reaction to the growing culture of body optimization, which values biohacking, strict diets and devices like Oura rings. The underlying message is “so what if I overdid myself last night?” Maria Anne Porto, senior editor at Punch, noted that people “are tired of hearing about wellness culture.” Although you shouldn’t “romanticize the feeling of feeling bad”, the intention is not to blame yourself for a night well spent, arguing that “it’s normal to have balance”.
Sharing hangover content in an “inspirational” way also takes on a transgressive quality in an era dominated by overly “curated” social media feeds. In these spaces, users often spend hours watching influencers who showcase perfect lives, promoting the benefits of intense workouts and green juices.
For Dave Infante, author of the Fingers newsletter, which addresses alcoholic beverage culture in the USA, material on alcohol consumption and its consequences explores an image of “extravagant destructiveness” and carelessness. He argues that this persona has always had great appeal among young audiences, recalling figures such as Cat Marnell, author of “How to Murder Your Life”, and Chelsea Handler, of “Are You There, Vodka? It’s Me, Chelsea”, both party icons of the millennial generation.
Nowadays, young people in their 20s seem to be revitalizing this archetype. A popular video on TikTok, with more than 222,000 likes, shows a woman captioning it: “Romanticizing the hangover because that’s what Alix Earle would do.” The reference is to the digital influencer who gained notoriety for sharing her university party routine, including naming her podcast “Hot Mess with Alix Earle”.
Last fall, Allana Blumberg, a 26-year-old content creator and pilates instructor, posted a video on Instagram. In it, his post-party routine was presented as an idyllic scene, worthy of a Pottery Barn catalogue, with lit candles, a carefully prepared cappuccino and relaxed reading on his Kindle in the sunlight streaming through the apartment window. The image conveyed an almost angelic aura.
Blumberg explains that this romanticization of hangovers helps her avoid lying in bed and regretting it. She argues that “just because you go out with your friends and have fun at night doesn’t mean you need to keep doing things that aren’t so good for your body, like sleeping in or ordering more greasy food.” According to the influencer, it is possible to “trick yourself into thinking that your hangover isn’t real and feel like you’re in a romantic comedy”, transforming even the most uncomfortable moments into cinematic scenes.
At the same time, other young people have given new meaning to their hangover-impacted weekends, converting them into personalized well-being rituals. Their videos on TikTok often operate as veiled advertising, where users promote products that claim to help alleviate discomfort. Examples include a sleepy woman showing off her recovery almond milk, and another who uses her hangover as justification for visiting H Mart for “groceries and a sweet treat.” Beverages like Red Bull, Electrolit, iced coffee and Coca-Cola Zero are often touted as essential items. This practice of marketing hangover “cures” is not new, with history recording everything from Bloody Marys to bull testicles as supposed remedies.
The occurrence of hangovers among Gen Z may surprise many, given that this group has been labeled the “sensible generation” due to their supposed aversion to drinking culture and less in-person socializing. However, Infante emphasizes that this perception does not cover the entire scenario. He notes that sobriety is a trend that encompasses Americans of different age groups, and is not restricted to younger people. Furthermore, Generation Z ranges in age from 14 to 29 years old, which means that many of its members are not yet of legal age to consume alcohol in establishments.
Additionally, the consumption of alcoholic beverages involves financial costs, and Generation Z is not in a situation of great economic abundance. Recent surveys indicate that 75% of members of this generation are cutting back on social activities that involve alcohol, such as dinners and events, not because of a lack of interest, but because of budget limitations. In this context, the romanticization of hangovers can be justified. Having one became a kind of “trophy”, a souvenir of a rare and cherished night of fun.
Despite its popularity, the trend of romanticizing hangovers on TikTok has clear limitations. The videos avoid explicit content — there are no scenes of vomiting, for example — focusing on the common hangover and not on episodes of extreme drunkenness or dangerous behavior. A determining factor is that the majority of breeders who adopt this practice are under 30 years old, an age at which recovery tends to be faster. Allana Blumberg commented that when she was younger, she used to joke that “hangovers are a question of mentality, because I never had a hangover”, but admits that “it’s definitely getting worse”.
