Feifei Cao ‘27
For over two thousand years, one of the world’s oldest institutions, the Catholic Church, has been much more than a building. It has been a cornerstone for empires, a spark for revolutions, and a powerful global cultural force in art, philosophy, and literature. While church attendance and formal religious affiliation are in decline in the West, Catholic imagery and aesthetics are experiencing a surprising resurgence, particularly among Gen Z.
Catholic aesthetics are being reborn, not in basilicas or seminaries, but on Pinterest boards and short-form videos. Rosaries, sacred hearts, and Marian imagery are now fashion accessories. Lace, hymnals, stained-glass filters, and liturgical Latin are aesthetic tools of personal branding. While this resurgence is largely detached from theology or doctrine, it offers a glimpse into a generation’s spiritual imagination and desire to reclaim structure and meaning in a disjointed digital age. The renewed interest in Catholic visuals reveals an evolving relationship with faith and beauty in a secular age.
From its early days, the Church understood the importance of sensory experience. Originating with Jesus of Nazareth during the Roman occupation of Judea, his followers expanded the movement into a universal (from Greek “katholikos”) church, with the bishop of Rome assuming primacy. The legalization of Christianity in 313 CE and its adoption as the state religion in 380 CE solidified the Church’s increasing role. As the Western Empire collapsed, the Church became a cultural and intellectual anchor in Europe, spreading Christianity through monasticism.
To accommodate its growing public influence, the Church built structures distinct from small pagan temples, oriented around external rituals. Christian worship required large interior spaces for congregational gatherings. Churches adopted the basilica as their architectural model, a Roman assembly hall, later evolving to an ornate Gothic style (12th–13th century), reflecting grandeur. Architecture became a vessel for spiritual transformation and devotion. As Pope Benedict XVI observed in the Second Vatican Council Address, “Beauty...is one of the principal protagonists of advancing the universal call to holiness.”
This tradition was challenged in 1517 when German priest Martin Luther published the Ninety-five Theses, inciting the Protestant Reformation. Reformers condemned the promotion of idolatry through art, conflicting with ideals of humility. The Catholic Church responded with the Counter-Reformation, reaffirming biblical precedent as justification for imagery, such as God’s instructions to richly adorn His house. NYU professor of religious studies, Elayne Oliphant, explains, “The Protestant Reformation critiqued the excess of wealth and opulence in churches and art…the Catholic Church replied by further emphasizing the richness and beauty of art.” This theological pushback culminated in the rise of Baroque (17th century) art, appealing to emotional intensity and theatricality. Artists like Caravaggio and Reni were commissioned to reaffirm Catholic salvation through beauty. The Catholic aesthetic extended past altars to include ceremonial garments and jeweled regalia. Today, the Catholic Church’s enduring emphasis on aesthetics gives it a distinctive visual legacy.
The Catholic aesthetic has long held influence in high fashion due to its symbolism and luxurious vestments. Andrew Bolton of the Met’s Costume Institute regards “the finest costumes in history [as] always either imperial or ecclesiastical, sometimes both.” The 2018 Heavenly Bodies exhibition at the Met showcased this with garments loaned from the Vatican, including Pope Benedict XV’s golden cape and Pius IX’s jeweled tiara. Many designers from Catholic countries like France and Italy, such as Coco Chanel and Dolce & Gabbana, have drawn on Catholic imagery. Chanel’s iconic little black dress was influenced by clothing worn by nuns at a local abbey, while Dolce & Gabbana’s Fall 2013 show featured crosses, incense-burner handbags, and baroque religious references.
A new religious landscape study revealed in March sees a decline in religious affiliation: Pew Research reports a drop in Christian identity from 78% in 2007 to 63% in 2024. However, Gen Z is embracing Catholic aesthetics online. An increasing number of young people are drawn to its visual language: rosaries, icons, and saints appear across platforms like TikTok and Pinterest. Often connected to the “coquette” subculture, this aesthetic, popularized on social media platforms, embraces ultra-femininity through pastels and vintage fashion, evoking a hyper-romanticized and nostalgic vision of girlhood.
For many, the Catholic aesthete offers emotional comfort and structure during digital overconsumption, AI anxiety, and societal fragmentation. As technology reshapes daily life, blurring lines between human and machine, Catholicism’s sensory ritual and long association with institutional power is a nostalgic language for spiritual exploration and identity formation. Media like The Virgin Suicides (2003), an elegiac film adaptation regarding the tragic suicides of five sisters, and musical artists like Fiona Apple and Lana Del Rey have further glamorized the Catholic mystique, combining themes of martyrdom and purity. Writer Biz Sherbert observes that for youth, the Catholic aesthetic provides “a pursuit of Otherness” that feels meaningful without culturally appropriating others.
This resurgence of Catholicism raises a question: Does the rise of Catholic imagery among Gen Z signal a return to faith or simply a repurposing of religion for artistic and emotional expression? While most Gen Z aesthetic Catholics are not returning to weekly mass or traditional doctrine, their engagement with Catholicism’s symbols keeps its cultural presence alive in new, secular forms. The rise of aesthetics does not reverse the decline in formal religiosity, but reframes a new form of relevance. For Gen Z, Catholicism is not necessarily a belief system to follow, but a visual and emotional archive to reinterpret, a way to access the sacred amid digital overstimulation and cultural disillusionment. As the Church navigates an increasingly polarized world, its beauty remains a parallel between past and present, ritual and rebellion, faith and feeling.