By Iris Mbok, Year 12
Some keep chickens, some make their own paper. To be a Tradwife, is to pledge allegiance to traditional gender roles, whilst your husband serves as the primary breadwinner. This term, which emerged in the 21st century, is used to refer to 1950s housewives and has resurfaced over the past years as couples have been trying to mirror this aesthetic. As incompatible as this outdated, half-a-century old, gender dynamic is to our current society, especially amidst the “woke movement”, tradewives deny the damaging aspects of this culture, parading themselves as stay at home mothers or “mommy-vloggers” in the case of those who share their journey back in time on social media. Others argue that Tradwivery is idolising white nationalism.
The prefix of the word “traditional” used in the term “tradwife” has sparked heated discussions criticising its problematic nature. Traditions are fixed moments in history selectively picked from a country and used to represent and preserve its national identity. Therefore, many have criticised this nostalgic take on 1950 American gender roles, as it implies the desire to maintain a society marked by overall injustice for anyone but the white male and most prominently, racial segregation. The oppressive climate of this era placed an emphasis on the idea that pale skin and straight hair (features often found amongst white women) were synonymous to femininity. The idea that a “tradwife” is the epitome of what it means to be womanly, inherently excludes those who do not fit this profile, making it not only a concept which adheres to patriotic ideas, but additionally, white supremacist mindsets.
Nara Smith, the Queen bee of Tradwives, gave the mainstream media its first taste of what it looks like to live like these women in the 21st century. First going viral in 2022, she has amassed nearly twenty million followers across her many social media platforms. Not much after she started sharing her tranquil home life, which consists of cooking, cleaning and taking care of her three children, criticism started flowing in, particularly from black women. Considering she is of South African origins, many criticised her for perpetuating a culture which negatively impacts “her people”. “It’s my choice” has been a factual, yet problematic statement Smith used to undermine claims of white nationalism associated with her lifestyle. To her dismay, this excuse shielded her from internet trolls for a mere two weeks before they found out of her involvement in the Mormon Church. Through her famous model husband, Lucky Blue Smith, Nara converted to Mormonism after their marriage in 2020. When this information came to light, more people jumped on the hate train, accusing her of internalised racism and self-hate. The LDS church had temple and priesthood racial restrictions up until 1978, making most deem Mormons as a racist community. Additionally, Nara Smith straightens her naturally curly hair into a Monroe-like bob daily, making watchers wonder if her success in the tradwife industry is partly due to her adherence to 1950s beauty standards which by following, she entirely neglects her black features.
Shifting this debate to its gender aspect, one might wonder what differentiates tradwives from regular stay at home mothers. While regular stay-at-home mothers often make practical choices based on personal, familial, or economic reasons, tradwives embrace and promote their lifestyle as a deliberate return to traditional, patriarchal gender roles. This ideology romanticises a past era where women were largely confined to domestic spheres and emphasises submission, femininity, and homemaking as core aspects of womanhood. Unlike modern stay-at-home mothers, who may seek equal partnerships within their relationships, Tradwives often highlight the dominance of the male breadwinner as an essential part of their lifestyle. This distinction, coupled with its aestheticized portrayal on social media, underscores the tradwife movement as a reactionary cultural trend to “woke” America, rather than simply a personal choice, making it a focal point for broader debates on gender roles, feminism, and identity politics.
Finally, some are willing to give Tradwives who share their life on social media the benefit of the doubt. They argue that it is a form of modern labour and the monetization of their lives disrupts the notion that one’s husband is the sole breadwinner in a family. By shifting this debate in this new trajectory, one can empathise with this strategic way of capitalising off these traditional roles.
