The Overlooked Masses: The emergence and stigmatisation of the ‘fangirl’ in the 1990s and beyond
A cultural revolution occurred in the late 1990s. Beatlemania had long subsided, leaving behind the fallacy of intense devotion being misconstrued as ‘hysteria’. The new generation was rejecting the pathologisation of their emotions, proving their importance as a market force with intention while driving the success of countless bands, artists, and films. In 2024, therefore, why is there still a stigma attached to the ‘fangirl’?
Beyond the somewhat scary connotations of any singular famous figure accruing a fanbase so committed that their safety is compromised, the concept of the ‘fangirl’, in this case, touches upon the inherent misogyny in negative attitudes towards female audiences. It’s the same observation in socialisation, where girls from an early age are subtly taught that their feelings, emotions, and needs are less important or less valid than those of their male peers.
This bias has long been attached to ‘fandoms’, specifically female fans, who, in these contexts, are branded ‘silly’ or ‘crazy’ as opposed to ‘loyal’ and ‘dedicated’. Take some sports spaces, for instance: the typically male-dominated fan community are usually seen as passionate and knowledgeable, while the female audience can be ridiculed for emitting some of the same behaviours at concerts, premieres, and other situations when expressing their excitement.
In the ’90s, significant shifts in music and entertainment industries began to place female audiences at the core of their demographic strategies. This wasn’t necessarily a passive nod to women, as it might seem in hindsight, but a deliberate embrace of authentic, anarchic roots that resonated with the cultural movements of the time. For instance, a few years before events like the female-only Lilith Fair, Bikini Kill released Revolution Girl Style Now, the demo album that saw riot grrrl leader Kathleen Hanna transition from spoken-word warrior to the torchbearer of an entire feminist movement.
Before this, Hanna would usually be found performing in front of a sceptical audience—some of which would heckle her with obscene profanities—as she confidently called out the perils of toxic masculinity and the overlooked parameters of modern rape culture. With Revolution Girl Style Now, Bikini Kill spearheaded the type of ‘girl power’ rhetoric that would later be central to female masses and mainstream acts like Spice Girls, but with a lesser-known edge that would linger until modern day, even in the face of countless tabloid remarks like, ‘The fangirls have lost it!’
The Lilith Fair became one of the largest-grossing festivals of the ’90s after being founded by artist Sarah McLachlan, who had become disillusioned with other radio stations and mainstream festivals. In her view, little to no stations or festival organisers ever billed two female artists in a row, which was a major issue, so Lilith Fair would address this by incorporating female-only artists in a daring move to establish the value of women’s voices in the music industry.
The Fair raised over $10million for charity in its first three years, while the 1997 event marked one of the highest-grossing festivals of the ’90s with $16m. The same decade saw the film industry pandering to the market surge of female audiences in new ways, not just with titles like Titanic, The Craft, Notting Hill, Clueless, Ghost, My Girl, and Practical Magic but with the way many centred on female-specific experiences, spotlighting their desires, traumas, and darkest thoughts and fears.
This wasn’t a new phenomenon, but the pattern here concedes to a shift that suddenly positioned the ‘fangirl’ as a legitimate segment, even if their scrutinisation and misogynist attacks would continue long into the 2000s. This coupling—female fanbases and the cultural desire to stigmatise—reflects not only a deep-seated misogynistic thread but a robust and decades-long rejection of generalising female audiences as if they are an unknown entity that merely flits from one intense desire to the next.
In ‘fandom’, this manifests as the contemporary label of ‘hysteria’, when female fans are mocked for their emotional frivolity or when high-profile figures like Pete Townshend tell The Telegraph that ‘fangirls’ are “fickle” and “flippant” because “they move from one band to another quite quickly, and one artist to another.” It manifests in bands like The Who, claiming their popularity is a direct result of their audience being “mainly boys” in a sweeping statement that invalidates the existence and value of women and young girls as genuine cultural participants.
Women’s voices are so important in today’s world, and continuing with the negative ‘fangirl’ discourse only serves to silence a group and movement that has worked hard to feel comfortable and authentic in celebrating that which they deem worthy of being celebrated. Gender biases in entertainment audiences also negate the sheer power of these audience segments in shaping contemporary culture and societal discourse, ignoring how their passion fuels not only trends but new strands of creative expression.
In the ’90s, a cultural revolution occurred as the preceding feminist movement laid the groundwork for a surge of female audiences who began asserting their influence across various forms of art in a way that unapologetically celebrated female solidarity. When the stigma prevails, scapegoating, more often than not, reinforces the fallacy that women’s passions are unworthy of serious acknowledgement.
