Young people on TikTok and Instagram are redefining the hangover experience, turning what was once a shame-filled morning into a glamorous, aspirational moment. Instead of hiding under blankets, they flaunt dark eye circles and headaches as badges of a good time, broadcasting their indulgences with a glowy sheen. 'Romanticizing my hangover bc I'm a young ho and that means I had a fun night,' one woman captioned a clip of herself dancing while brushing her teeth in an oversize hoodie. 'Like that's lowkey a beautiful thing.'
From shame to flex: the new hangover aesthetic
This trend positions hangovers as proof of a vibrant social life. Another creator wrote over a sunny day-after walk: 'Feeling hungover but full of love and happiness.' A third turned her hangover into a flex: 'I'm rotting in my nyc apartment and im hungover from running around nyc til the sun came up,' set to Frank Sinatra's New York, New York. The content often includes cozy details—lighting candles, sipping cappuccinos, or reading a Kindle in dappled sunlight—making the aftermath look almost romantic.
Mary Anne Porto, a senior editor at Punch, a drinks-focused digital media company, sees it as a reaction to wellness culture. 'People are sick of hearing about wellness culture,' she said. 'I personally don't think we should be romanticizing feeling gross, but it's about not beating yourself up over having a good night. They're saying it's OK to have balance.'
Transgressive in an era of hyper-curation
Posting hangover content feels rebellious against the polished, health-obsessed feeds of influencers promoting green juices and strength training. Dave Infante, who writes Fingers, a newsletter about American drinking culture, explains: 'Alcohol and hangover [content] sort of taps into that “I'm colorfully destructive,” devil-may-care type of thing. That's always been an attractive persona for young people.' He cites millennial figures like Cat Marnell, author of How to Murder Your Life, and Chelsea Handler's early comedic persona as predecessors.
One TikTok referencing influencer Alix Earle, who built a following on her party-heavy college days, garnered over 222,000 likes: 'Romanticizing being hungover because that's what Alix Earle would do.'
A ritual to avoid wallowing
Allana Blumberg, a 26-year-old content creator and pilates instructor, posted an Instagram reel last fall that turned her hangover routine into a Pottery Barn scene: candles, cappuccino, Kindle, and sunlight. She says romanticizing keeps her from spiraling. 'Just because you go out with your girls and have a fun night doesn't mean you have to continue to do things that aren't so great for your body, like sleeping in late or ordering more greasy food,' she said. '[You can] trick yourself into thinking that your hangover isn't real and feel like you're in a romcom situation.'
Other users rebrand their recovery as wellness rituals, often featuring products like almond milk, Electrolit, or Diet Coke. These TikToks double as covert commercials, though the trend echoes older hangover remedies like hair of the dog or prairie oysters.
Gen Z drinking: a nuanced picture
Despite the 'generation sensible' label, gen Z does get hangovers. Infante notes that Americans of all ages are drinking less, and gen Z ranges from 14 to 29—many not yet legal to barhop. A recent survey found that 75% of gen Z respondents are cutting back on social plans involving drinking, not from lack of desire but due to cost. 'Maybe that's reason enough to romanticize a hangover; having one has become an achievement of sorts, a party favor to take home after a rare night out,' the article suggests.
TikTok's hangover chic has limits: videos avoid graphic content like vomiting, and the focus is on average hangovers, not risky bingeing. Most creators are under 30, still young enough to recover quickly. 'I used to joke when I was younger that a hangover is a mindset, because I used to not get hungover at all,' Blumberg said. 'But it's definitely starting to get worse.'
