The Matcha Boys of Tiktok: The Peak of Performative Masculinity
This article breaks down the rise of the “Matcha Boys” on TikTok — men who curate soft, aesthetic, emotionally-aware personas built around matcha rituals, Labubu toys, sad-girl indie playlists, and perfectly lit apartments. From a Nigerian perspective, it examines how performative masculinity has simply rebranded itself online, turning vulnerability and “evolved” behavior into algorithm-friendly content. The piece questions whether this trend represents genuine emotional growth or just another identity optimized for views.
It's 11 PM and I'm doom-scrolling through TikTok when he appears on my For You Page again. You know the one. He's in what looks like a Brooklyn apartment (or maybe London, it's hard to tell), carefully filming his "morning matcha ritual." The lighting is suspiciously perfect for morning. There's a Labubu toy strategically placed next to his ceramic bowl. Clairo plays softly in the background. He whisks his matcha with the seriousness of someone performing surgery.
Welcome to the Performative Male phenomenon, and from over here, it hits differently.
The Aesthetic We're All Watching
If you're on TikTok, you've seen him. He's invaded every algorithm with his tote bags and his New Balance 550s and his entire personality built around ceremonial grade matcha. Our FYPs are full of these guys performing what they think is evolved masculinity, and we're watching it all unfold like the world's most boring reality show.
These grown men are showing off their labubu collections, explaining which ones are rare, filming unboxing videos with the excitement of kids on Christmas morning. From here, where guys are still very much attached to traditional ideas of masculinity, watching men abroad obsess over cute toys is... an experience.
The Sad Boy Playlist We Didn't Ask For
Image source:https://pin.it/1dZyuCevz
The music choices are what really get me. Every single one of these TikToks has the same soundtrack: Clairo, Phoebe Bridgers, boygenius, maybe some Mitski if he's feeling particularly deep. And he'll post videos with captions like "she just gets it" or "this song changed my life," and you can feel the performance through the screen.
The funny thing is, a lot of us discovered these artists through these same TikToks. But there's something about the way these guys present it; like they've unlocked some secret emotional frequency that other men can't access; that makes you want to skip the video immediately. It's giving "I'm not like other guys"
Here's the thing about watching this from here;
Image source: https://pin.it/7FVLhJDTQ
We're seeing a version of masculinity that doesn't exist here, performed by people we'll never meet, in places most of us have never been. It's like watching an anthropological study in real-time, except the subject knows he's being watched and is performing specifically for the camera.
And the comments are where it gets really interesting. You'll see guys commenting "Nah, this is crazy" or "What am I even watching?" while Nigerian girls are split between finding it cute and finding it exhausting. "This is what you people say you want," one guy commented, "then when we do it, you say it's too much."
But nobody asked for this much. Nobody asked for the seventeen-video series on how to make the perfect matcha. Nobody asked for the dissertation on thrifting. We're just here, trapped by the algorithm, watching it happen.
From our vantage point in Nigeria, where masculinity still looks very different, these TikToks feel like they're from another planet. Nigerian men are still navigating what it means to be sensitive without being called "soft." We're still in group chats where guys can't admit they cried during a movie. We're still in a culture where carrying a tote bag might get you questioned.
So watching these guys fully embrace their feelings, their matcha, their cute collectibles; it's fascinating. Part of you thinks "good for them for breaking gender norms." Another part of you thinks "this cannot be serious." And a whole other part recognizes that this is just another performance, just in a different direction.
Because let's be honest: the guy who posts gym videos and calls himself "Alpha" is performing masculinity just as much as the guy posting his latest Jane Austen ritual. It's just a different market, a different audience, a different aesthetic.
The Algorithm Made Him Do It
Image source: https://pin.it/5b5ofLp1G
The Performative Male didn't just happen, TikTok needed him. The platform rewards aesthetic cohesion, and he delivers. Every video looks the same. Same lighting. Same props. Same vibe. Same Clairo song.
And it works. These videos get millions of views. The comments are full of people praising him for being "evolved" and "in touch with his emotions." He's built an entire following off of... making tea? Buying toys? Having feelings?
This guy posts a video of himself listening to Phoebe Bridgers and posing by a building, and the comments treat him like he's solved world hunger. "We need more men like this." "This is what emotional intelligence looks like." "King behavior."
Meanwhile, the girls who've been listening to Phoebe Bridgers since 2017 are just... there. Invisible. Basic, even. But when he does it? Revolutionary.
Even from thousands of miles away, you can see the unfairness. Women create the culture; the music, the aesthetic, the vulnerability and men show up late, perform it louder, and get all the credit. It's the same story.
The Great Performance
image source: https://pin.it/rTo2IcPim
Sometimes I think about what these TikToks look like to the average person scrolling late at night. We're watching people perform a version of life that feels completely alien. The leisure time alone is a privilege most people here can't imagine.
But that's not even what makes it strange. What makes it strange is the emptiness behind it all. You can sense that he's not making matcha because he loves matcha. He's making matcha because "guy who makes matcha" is a viable identity on TikTok. The Labubu isn't about collecting something he genuinely enjoys, it's about being seen as the kind of guy who collects Labubu.
Everything is content. Everything is curated. Everything is performed.
Look, I'm not saying Nigerian men have it figured out. We definitely don't. Toxic masculinity is alive and well over here, just wearing different clothes. But watching the Performative Male on TikTok makes you realize that maybe the opposite of toxic masculinity isn't... this.
It's not the matcha that's the problem. It's not even the Labubu or the boygenius or the tote bags. It's the performance of it all. The constant need to be perceived, to be validated, to turn every single moment of your life into content for strangers to consume.
These guys have optimized their entire personalities for an algorithm, and the algorithm is showing their optimized personalities to us, and we're all supposed to pretend this is normal.
The Real Question
image source: https://pin.it/5GbGRBWNr
As I watch yet another video at midnight, the real question hits me: Is this what freedom looks like? Is this what happens when men are finally "allowed" to like traditionally feminine things? They turn it into content, into clout, into another form of competition?
Maybe the Performative Male is just doing what men have always done; taking up space, centering themselves, demanding attention, but now he's doing it with better aesthetics and a sad girl indie soundtrack.
Or maybe I'm just tired of the algorithm feeding me the same guy making the same drink in the same apartment with the same toy and the same song.
Either way, he's probably shooting another video with a copied quote on it, as we speak. The content machine never stops, and neither does my fyp.
And so I ask you, is the Matcha boy evolved or is he just a content machine?