Shoppers, viewers and social media users now hear ballroom-born phrases everywhere, from “it’s giving” to “serving”, but the communities that shaped this vocabulary remain marginalised. Princess Jezebel’s critique asks why trans and queer creativity is celebrated as a trend while trans people are still treated with suspicion, hostility and fear.

Essential Takeaways

  • Ballroom roots: Much of today’s internet slang grew from Black and Latino queer, drag and ballroom communities.
  • A familiar contradiction: Mainstream culture often embraces the language while ignoring or demonising the people behind it.
  • Madonna’s influence: “Vogue” helped bring ballroom style to a global audience, but its success also exposed questions about credit and ownership.
  • Words carry history: Terms such as “doll”, “diva” and “spill the tea” aren't just fashionable expressions; they come with cultural context.
  • A useful pause: Before repeating a phrase, consider where it came from and who helped make it visible.

The internet loves the language. The people are another story

Scroll through social media and you'll find ballroom vocabulary everywhere. Someone is “serving”, a look is “giving”, a friend is a “doll”, and a dramatic revelation means it's time to “spill the tea”. The phrases feel light, quick and instantly recognisable, often adding a little sparkle to an otherwise ordinary post.

Princess Jezebel argues that this popularity reveals an uncomfortable imbalance. Language developed within Black and Latino queer, drag and ballroom communities, with trans women playing a central role, has become useful cultural shorthand for mainstream audiences. Meanwhile, trans people continue to face hostile coverage, political attacks and familiar stereotypes.

Her criticism isn't about banning words or policing casual conversation. It's about memory. According to Jezebel, a culture that happily borrows trans and queer expression should also be willing to recognise the people who created it and confront the prejudice directed at them. [2], [4]

Ballroom culture was never just a trend

Ballroom emerged as a space where LGBTQ+ people, particularly Black and Latino communities, could compete, perform and build chosen families in a society that often excluded them. Balls offered categories, houses and a sense of belonging, alongside the theatrical glamour audiences now associate with voguing and runway performance.

History.com describes ballroom as both a creative movement and a community structure, rather than simply a dance style. That distinction matters because mainstream retellings can flatten a living culture into costumes, poses and catchphrases. The polished surface is memorable, but the deeper story includes survival, solidarity and the need for safe spaces. [3], [5]

For many participants, a house was more than a team name. It could provide guidance, friendship and family when biological relatives or wider institutions had failed them. That emotional foundation is easy to miss when ballroom is repackaged as a music-video aesthetic or social media mood.

“Vogue” opened the door, but not every question disappeared

Madonna's “Vogue” brought voguing and ballroom-inspired imagery to a huge international audience in 1990. The song became a cultural landmark, introducing millions of listeners to a style that had already been developed and refined in underground queer spaces.

The track's impact was enormous, but the debate around it has lasted for good reason. Coverage from Vogue and The Guardian's wider cultural record of ballroom notes how mainstream exposure can create visibility while also shifting attention towards a famous performer rather than the communities that originated the form. [2], [5]

That tension isn't unique to music. It appears whenever a subculture's language, fashion or gestures become commercially valuable. The creators may gain recognition, but they can also watch their work detached from its politics, history and personal cost. In other words, the spotlight arrives, but it doesn't always point in the right direction.

Why context matters when slang goes mainstream

Words change as they travel. That's normal, and no community owns every future use of a phrase. But context can still disappear when expressions move from a specific cultural setting into advertising, celebrity interviews and everyday online chatter.

The phrase “it's giving”, for example, can now describe almost anything from a coat to a kitchen renovation. “Serving” might be used for a particularly good lunch. There is nothing inherently wrong with ordinary people enjoying expressive language, but the history behind those words shouldn't be erased simply because the latest usage is cheerful and commercial.

The issue becomes sharper when the same mainstream culture treats trans people as controversial, dangerous or disposable. Jezebel connects that contradiction to media portrayals she encountered growing up, including the association between gender transition and criminal violence in popular film. Her point is personal as well as cultural: audiences can consume the style while rejecting the people. [1], [4]

A better way to appreciate borrowed culture

The simplest response is curiosity. Learn where a term, dance or visual style comes from, follow creators from the communities involved and avoid treating ballroom as a costume cupboard for the next trend cycle.

It also helps to separate appreciation from ownership. Giving credit doesn't stop anyone enjoying “Vogue”, sharing a glamorous video or using a playful phrase. It does make the conversation more honest, especially when the people who shaped the culture are still fighting for safety, respect and visibility.

Ballroom has survived because it is inventive, communal and remarkably adaptable. The hope is that mainstream culture can become more adaptable too, moving beyond imitation towards genuine recognition. [3], [6], [7]

It's easy to borrow a phrase; remembering its people is the meaningful part.

Source Reference Map

Story idea inspired by: [1]

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