Changing the Lens: The danger of dismissing the female fandom


My introduction to the fandom subculture was sudden and explosive.  

Like many good things, it began at 2 a.m. On a segment of the “Late Late Show,” I watched a group of seven South Korean boys navigate Los Angeles traffic with a surprising sense of humor and unexpected enthusiasm. When 5 a.m. rolled around, I had already devoured every video of their appearances on “Ellen,” “The Tonight Show,” “America’s Got Talent” and “The Voice.” 

There is no contest that BTS is a worldwide phenomenon but up until that night I had always been apathetic toward them. Initially, I was drawn to the idol group purely out of curiosity about their rise to global stardom. A week later, I could officially be declared a fan. 

As they took on ambitious vocal performances, hard-hitting rap verses and intricate dance sequences, I jumped headfirst into its fandom, ARMY. There were YouTube compilations to watch, BTS Run episodes to binge and online concerts to attend. I was thoroughly educated, learning what a “bias” means (mine is Namjoon), what the “Maknae line” is and that V and Jimin are best friends. 

A few months ago, I didn’t know what BTS stood for, much less the names of its members. Now, I can give you detailed, perhaps unnecessary, explanations of their personal quirks, favorite hair colors and the order in which each member joined the band. 

At first, I rationalized my whirlwind courtship with the Bangtan Boys as a fixation borne out of boredom during the pandemic. I told myself it would fade, and I wouldn’t have any reason to worry or be embarrassed. 

In doing this, I was doing a disservice to BTS, myself and fandoms all over the world.

I have always been wary of boy bands and teen artists. This no doubt stemmed from the fear of being typecast as the hysterical teenage fangirl. In middle school, I was a huge critic of Justin Bieber, largely because I hated the way his fans were viewed as extreme, fanatical and superficial, as people who didn’t know any better. For years, I maintained a safe distance from Bieber, One Direction and 5SOS until it was deemed reasonable to like their music openly. 

In retrospect, I’ve realized how ignorant I was. In actively avoiding such artists and fans, I was effectively telling my peers that their views weren’t valid. Our culture tells us time and time again that there is something wrong with having a predominantly tween girl fanbase in pop music. It questions the legitimacy of artists and doesn’t recognize their competency unless they cater to a more “sophisticated” or “cultured” audience (i.e adults and men). Language such as “fangirl” and “groupies” are heavy with negative connotations that demean the safe space that fandoms can provide. There’s a form of internalized misogyny that manifests itself as guilt or shame in young women and discounts our opinions as unreliable and easily swayed. 

It follows that BTS is often criticized for its enormous, predominantly female fan base, and despite their record-breaking success with the new single “Dynamite,” they are viewed as unworthy of being an international standard. For instance, one of my high school friends recently informed me that BTS’s claim to fame can only be attributed to the members’ attractive features that girls “go crazy for.” Out of all the xenophobic, homophobic and sexist rhetoric the group has been subjected to, this comment was the one I took most personal offense to. 

If sexual appeal and attractiveness were the only things that mattered, I’d argue that there would be many groups more popular than BTS, especially considering that the members don’t fit Western male beauty standards. What makes BTS so beloved is that they create music that touches people regardless of racial, cultural or language barriers. Whether you prefer the songs that are catchy and easy to sing along to (“DNA” or “Boy with Luv”) or their ballads about mental health and growing pains (“Spring Day” or “00:00”) or simply to be amused by their interactions with each other, the band produces a large variety of content that makes it hard to dislike (when you go in with an open mind).

It should go without saying that if you feel the need to criticize such artists, do so on the basis of their art, not on how they rose to fame, who their fandom consists of or at the expense of women. 

Somewhere on the road to the present, society decided that women were vapid, fickle and heavily influenced by a pretty face and good haircut. The adolescent girl, with hormones to spare, is patently the most unreliable of the bunch. In the context of pop culture (and arguably life), the consensus is that girls like me are unable to think critically and form informed decisions on what we like or dislike. It’s almost instinctual to question the credibility of our preferences. 

This is accompanied by the defeated understanding that things I like or enjoy become free real estate for people to find fault in. 

Whether you notice or not, most of us subscribe to this ideology, and it impacts the attitude we have toward life. Young female fans are undeniably major drivers for revenue in the music industry and are key to raising sales and awareness for artists. It seems unfair that the same demographic that led to the rise of the Beatles, Beyoncé, The 1975, Justin Timberlake, Taylor Swift and Harry Styles are not given the credit they deserve. If we continue to equate female excitement with hysteria, passion with infatuation and appreciation with tastelessness, we risk creating generations of women with a lack of confidence in themselves and their decisions. 

As I write this column, a small part of me still feels the need to downplay the fact that I am a fan of a boy band. I hope that if my interest in BTS ever fades, it’ll be because I can no longer relate to the music or the members, not because popular opinion tells me their celebrity is unearned or their fandom is too passionate. Until then, I’ll probably watch the “ON” Kinetic Manifesto video for the 10th time and listen to “Inner Child” until I can recite it by heart. 

Yagna Sreeramaneni is a sophomore writing about the current issues in the entertainment industry. Her column, “Changing the Lens,” runs every other Friday.