The millennial “girl boss” is so last generation — Gen Z professionals are choosing to be laidback than booked and busy.
Meet the Snail Girl — a working woman, she prioritizes joy and ease, consciously choosing to slow down despite the demands of hustle culture.
The term was originally coined by Fashion Journal writer Sienna Ludbey, who identified the phenomenon as a way “to remember to not be as hard on myself, to have a work-life balance and to stop comparing my journey to others.”
To all the girl bosses out there, I’m forever in awe of what you do,” she wrote. “I’ve noticed that maybe in this life, we don’t need to achieve huge success to give what we do meaning.”
The piece inspired a wave of fellow girls to enter their intentionally sluggish era, declaring they are “here for it” on TikTok, while others rejoiced they finally had a name for the mindset that has taken over social media by way of lazy girl meals, workouts and jobs.
But contrary to the name of the so-called “lazy girl” life hacks, they’re anything but — the younger generation insists they’re simply trying to work smarter, not harder.
“There’s nothing lazy about expecting a job that pays you well, gives you good work-life balance and doesn’t overwork you. And no one in a lazy girl job is actually lazy,” tech recruiter Bonnie Dilber argued on her TikTok channel.
“Because the companies who do take care of their employees, sadly, because there are so few of them in the United States, they have really high standards for hiring, so no one is at these companies actually slacking off.”
The trend is, in part, fueled by a shift in priorities catalyzed by the pandemic, as employees are placing more value on their personal lives after settling into the reality of remote work.
Self-proclaimed “anti-career” coach and TikToker Danielle Roberts told NBC News that these so-called “lazy girls” are trying to reclaim “whatever control they can” in their lives, by working at a slower pace.
“Rather than calling the people who are divesting from that system lazy, and telling them that they just need to work harder, we need to talk about why it’s a trend in the first place and go one level deeper,” said Roberts, who decried the 40-hour work week as “outdated.”
Coupled with feelings of burnout — which has notably plagued an overwhelming majority of Gen Zers — it’s the potential perfect storm.
Zoomers have already begun honoring a new tradition of “bare minimum Mondays,” or doing the least amount of work possible in an effort to get through the worst day of the week.
The trend’s creator, Marisa Jo Mayes — who was arguably a “snail girl” before it was cool — was sick of feeling overwhelmed by all the tasks that loomed at the start of every work week, paralyzed by anxiety.
Only exerting the bare minimum on Mondays, then, was a “burnout prevention strategy” — and it worked.
“It’s more of an opportunity for people to start untethering themselves from hustle culture, little by little, until corporate America catches up,” she previously told The Post.
“The tide is turning, and I feel like employees are tired of trading their well-being to perform well at work.”