This week, I was in DC for both the People’s March and the Inauguration, and it felt like stepping into a parallel universe compared to the last time. Eight years ago, the atmosphere at Trump’s first inauguration was dark and heavy, even for those who had gotten what they wanted.
I remember going to cover the event for Vox at the time, and the air seemed thick with unease, a collective awareness of the stigma surrounding the event. This time? That cloud was gone.
“The vibe shift is complete,” one man told me as he waited in line for the Liberty Ball, dressed in a full bison fur coat with steel bullet buttons. The coast, he said, was made from an animal he killed with his bare hands.
He wasn’t just talking about aesthetics; he was describing the day’s energy. “It’s so much more positive now,” he said. “MAGA has grown: it’s more fun, more diverse, more everything.”
He wasn’t wrong. In 2017, the crowd was predictable: older, mostly white attendees from red states, with a sprinkling of families. This year felt entirely different. Sure, I met people from Louisiana and North Dakota, but I also was surprised to meet Trump supporters from Los Angeles and Maine.
Young men, in particular, made up a striking portion of the demographic, far more than I’d ever seen at a Trump event.
The Manosphere Makes Its Mark
This was no accident—targeting the young male vote was a calculated move. Trump’s campaign courted popular online personalities with enormous male audiences by going on podcasts with Joe Rogan and Logan Paul, both of which also received prime seating to the Inauguration.
The president appealed to the Manosphere early on. Now, Trump has fully embraced it, even using his first day in office to pardon members of the Proud Boys and Oath Keepers. Meanwhile, tech giants are falling in line, stripping away fact-checking and guardrails that once curbed hate speech to cater to this particular demographic.
While it may have been illegal to say that men should grab women by the p*ssy, it’s now totally allowed. Saying something like “grab women by the p*ssy” would have once violated platform policies. Now, it’s wholly permissible and amplifiable.
This strategy isn’t just playing to the fringes; it’s creating a new kind of normal. While progressive friends had urged me to pack mace and stay vigilant, I moved through a crowd that was jubilant, enthusiastic, and surprisingly welcoming.
As a white woman, I carry immense privilege in these spaces, often assumed to be “one of them.” Even so, I was struck by the rainbow of diversity in the crowd. Black men, Muslim women in veils, and what felt like entire extended families. The crowd didn’t feel fringe—it felt normal.
Not just normal…. but cool?
“Being MAGA is punk rock now,” my fur-clad acquaintance proclaimed. “It’s anti-establishment. The counterculture is Elon Musk, Donald Trump, and punk rock. It’s always been that way, but the party shifted.”
The Aesthetic Vibe Shift of MAGA 2.0
And maybe he’s onto something. The once-controversial red MAGA hat, which used to provoke stares or even fights, now feels less like a political statement and more like a status symbol.
The merch has evolved, too, with sleek “Daddy’s Home” hoodies and updated designs. The GOP didn’t just rebrand; it got a makeover. It’s sharper, sexier, younger. The party has a new haircut and a fade, and they know it looks good.
As a co-founder of Hotties for Harris, I couldn’t help but notice the parallels. My goal with our movement was to make progressivism cool, especially for men who often feel emasculated for being liberal. The right has clearly achieved their version of this, with their “Make America Hot Again” branding and exclusive influencer-filled parties.
The entertainment lineup has shifted too, it’s no longer Kid Rock and washed-up ‘90s acts. Now, it’s Snoop Dogg and Nelly. Designers who once boycotted Trump are now proudly dressing his family.
Masculinity and the New Order
While I hesitate to draw comparisons to 1940’s fascism, Elon Musk’s antics make it harder not to. Their ultra-masculine, polished, and meticulously styled branding evokes a sense of order and strength. Trump himself has shed his earlier populist aesthetic.
He’s slimmer, sharper, and so are his supporters. Influencers like Jake Paul and the Nelk Brothers represent this new, curated image. Liking Trump doesn’t feel weird or fringe anymore, it feels aspirational.
And while the rizz winds are in the sails of the MAGA movement, it’s worth asking how long this can last. Can you still call yourself counterculture if you win the election and become the establishment? When your movement is bankrolled by tech billionaires, is “punk rock” really the right label? Maybe the irony is lost on them, or maybe it isn’t.
For now, MAGA owns the aesthetic, and in a time when aesthetic is everything, that’s a powerful position to hold. Whether they can sustain this coolness remains to be seen, but one thing is clear: they’re playing the long game, and they’ve never looked better doing it.
