Behind the rise of the Asian aunty

By Karishma Vaswani

The Asian aunty has a lot to teach us about gendered stereotypes and how to fight them. The term, often used as a sign of respect, has also become a way to disparage and indicate that a woman is past her prime. It isn’t unusual to hear younger men and women call their older female colleagues or friends “aunties” as a put-down, only half in jest. But now some Asian women are challenging that narrative, and offering alternative models of ageing.

Politically, these women are important: They are voting in greater numbers than before. Parties from India to Indonesia — where they make up half of the voting population — are now targeting female voters. Governments around the region should take note of this increasingly powerful force.

It makes economic sense to do this. By 2050, the number of people aged 60 or older will reach 2.1 billion globally, the majority of them women. They play a pivotal role in society, as providers of child care, elder care, and domestic labor. This unpaid or underpaid work allows their families to work and save more, indirectly contributing to GDP growth. Yet they are too often economically excluded and socially marginalized, and vulnerable to abuse, neglect, and exploitation.

Ageing can be grim. Put aside the physical and mental deterioration, perhaps one of the most insulting aspects is the discrimination older people experience. One in two people may harbor ageist attitudes, according to the 2021 World Health Organization’s Global Report on Ageism. It’s the most socially normalized prejudice, and like many others, relies on the concept of “othering,” where we see a group of people as being unlike ourselves.

The irony of course, is that most of us grow old — or turn into boomers — sooner or later.

The bias is particularly acute for women, who experience the twin difficulties of both ageism and sexism, highlighting how we are underrepresented in media, and often ignored in consumer, social and public spaces. We are also “grandmotherized,” and assumed to be incompetent, as this study notes.

It can be even more of an issue in Asian cultures, as Geetanjali Shree writes in her novel Tomb of Sand, which won the International Booker Prize in 2022. Her work explores themes of invisibility among Indian women, often considered to be a natural state for so many, where despite much progress, men are still the priority in families and society. Shree’s observations of the inner secret lives of women are strewn through her books. “We always knew mother had a weak spine,” her debut novel Mai (Silently Mother) begins. “Those who constantly bend get this problem.”

Increasingly though, older Asian women are refusing to be invisible. Zeenat Aman, a Bollywood star from the 70s, has found a new life for herself on social media as she ages. “Which genius decided that ‘aunty’ is a derogatory term?,” she wrote on Instagram, calling out the prejudice against older women. “I’m an aunty, and proud.”

Addressing the taboo of ageing was also the thinking behind Lisa Ray’s content on social media. The Indian actress, author and entrepreneur has refashioned herself in her early 50s, breaking through the negative stereotypes about women “of a certain age.”

“Extreme ageism in India exists,” she tells me from Dubai, where she now lives. “Comments online say things like ‘old aunty, why are you wearing this?’ That is the general attitude. Women of a certain age are expected to present themselves in a certain way, know their place and follow the script. Society doesn’t like it when they are different.”

Older people used to be respected in wisdom cultures like India’s, Ray adds, but that’s not the case anymore. Women were released from their responsibilities by that point, and so could help to pass down life lessons to the next generation. “Instead, you now have the archetypal image of the crone, in place of a wise woman,” she adds.

Ray is not alone. The anonymous Singaporean artist who goes by the name “niceaunties” is using AI to create a virtual "auntysphere" to turn the stereotype on its head. “I guess the point is, to do whatever the hell you want,” she said in a recent podcast. “That to me is really being an auntie.”

The hyper-sexualization of younger women, combined with an antiquated view of older females, are deeply rooted in our youth-obsessed culture. This can make the entire experience of growing older an exercise in humiliation, compounded by a lack of visibility in the workplace and in the public eye.

For the vast majority of Asian women, particularly in emerging economies with large populations like India’s and Indonesia’s, most will never get a chance to rise up. It’s a privilege for a select few, with the means and education to express themselves.

Still, women like Aman and Ray are helping to craft a fresh narrative for a new cohort of older Asian women; one that isn’t content with fading into the background. So in 2025, I’d like to suggest that if you’re an aunty (like me) then wear that title proudly, be whoever you please, and refuse to comply to a fixed stereotype. The next generation will thank us for it.