Why the neon-bright gamer girl aesthetic is here to stay
The gamer girl, otherwise referred to as the kawaii gamer or pastel e-girl, is a familiar sight in the world of video games. Neon pinks decorate the wall behind her, as she types on her pastel-coloured mechanical keyboard. Atop her headphones sit a set of cat ears, with customisable RGB lighting.
Originating from the Japanese cultural phenomenon of Kawaii – the culture of cuteness that’s heavily associated with Hello Kitty, ruffle dresses, and many, many pink bows – the gamer girl aesthetic is becoming more commonplace. Yet its existence sparks a mixed reaction: some see it as a point of pride, while others believe it infantilises women in gaming. In spite of this, the aesthetic perseveres.
For women and queer people in the industry, the aesthetic’s bubblegum pinks and soft hues are a source of strength. By adopting the bright colours and the hallmarks of the look, they reject the perceived need to assimilate to the existing status quo in order to be successful in a traditionally male-dominated industry. Just as the Japanese kawaii movement was in part born from a rejection of the societal pressures adult women faced, the gamer girl image rejects the dominant image of who works in the industry and in turn this encourages more women and queer people to join the ranks and do so authentically.
“I have used it as a source of strength for sure,” Rebecca Ford, the creative director of multiplayer shooter Warframe, tells NME. “I think women adopting a cuteness is empowering, because it’s a reaction to a very messy means of production and implied gatekeeping. I went to my first Game Developers Conference (GDC) in 2018. I just returned from GDC 2024, and even in those 6 years there was a notable increase in attendance of women and queer people. Not just that, either, women and queer people in leadership roles. That is progress. Is it perfect? No, but I think a notable industry challenge is often isolation and lack of a peer group.”
That progress has been noted by the Association for UK Interactive Entertainment (UKIE) in its 2022 Census. In it, UKIE reported the number of female developers rose from 28 per cent to 30 per cent, and non binary developers which also rose from two per cent to three per cent that year. Further still, the report found that the numbers of queer and LGBTQ+ developers rose from 21 per cent in their 2020 census report to 24 per cent in 2022. Increases amongst players have also been noted, with Statista reporting that in 2022 female players represented 56 per cent of UK-based players.
This hasn’t always been easy for those groups. Homophobia, transphobia, and sexism are alarmingly rampant in many gaming communities, and women often take steps to avoid revealing their gender online. This is due to rampant abuse, along with the problematic perception that women are not “real” gamers, particularly if they lean toward more casual games such as The Sims or Stardew Valley. The latter criticism ignores the fact that many developers, such as Nintendo, invested heavily in marketing the more “casual” titles such as Nintendogs and Cooking Mama to women and girls in the first place. This meant that many of those were, at the very least, entry points for people who didn’t find the more dominant types of games initially appealing. Besides, making sure your Sim didn’t set fire to the kitchen whilst making a salad was by no means a calming experience.
Leah Alexandra, a video game streamer and presenter, notes how the increase of women and queer people playing games has simultaneously created a demand for more visually pleasing hardware and believes it encourages more people to engage with the industry. “I think the availability of much more aesthetically pleasing things, has certainly helped people feel more inclined to try gaming and give gaming a go,” she says. “When I first came into streaming, it was so hard to find a peripheral that wasn’t black. My whole setup was black and red. I have really appreciated the fact that the experimentation in aesthetics for these peripherals has enabled me to now have a white keyboard and mouse.
“Humans use fashion as signifiers, consciously and subconsciously,” Ford adds. “Female-presenting signifiers should not be a weakness in the industry.”
However, an aesthetic isn’t enough to change the position of women in the industry and it may run the risk of trivialising instead of empowering. This speaks, in part, to the tightrope many marginalised groups walk on when working in more straight-presenting, male dominated environments.
“When I was just starting on Warframe, in about 2012, I remember an anonymous comment on an outlet suggesting that DE [Digital Extremes] was ridiculous for putting ‘some clearly-aging gamer girl’ in the spotlight to try and bait male players to play our game” explains Ford. “It’s interesting because I was 22! I didn’t see that as a commentary on me (I have since gone on to lead the project), but more of a confession that some gamers see their peers as people who cannot think critically about games if a gamer-girl is involved.”
“It’s really hard to separate ‘gamer girl’ from being a derogatory term” Leah adds. “It’s like a ‘little cute gamer girl’. You’re not a gamer, you’re something less than that. However, I think there is merit in the idea of… it being taken and used to build a community of people and I think there’s strength and power in the community over the term. But the term is just used to help people bring people to that community.”
The power of the gamer girl image is that it doesn’t concern itself with who and what it should be, or what type of game you play. All are welcome. Her existence encourages an overall confidence in expression and it’s for one of these reasons that the trend has helped others, such as the green hues of the cozy gaming culture, thrive. These self-expressions aren’t obstacles to be worked around – they’re a way to own your place in this culture.
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Eleanor Forrest
NME
