The Devil Wears Balenciaga: Inside the Rise of Sinisterianism

There was a time when to invoke Satan in popular art was to risk exile. Today, it earns clicks, contracts, and cover shoots. From the Met Gala to mainstream music videos, occult aesthetics are no longer taboo—they’re on trend.

But what’s behind this fixation with the infernal? Why are artists, designers, and influencers lining up to dance with the Devil?

The answer is a cultural force I call Sinisterianism.

What is Sinisterianism?

Sinisterianism isn’t a church or sect. It’s a loose cultural movement—a vibe, a strategy, a spell.

It’s not about believing in the Devil. It’s about weaponizing the aesthetics of rebellion, blurring the lines between identity, art, and ideology in an age where provocation is currency.

Defined by:

• The rejection of traditional authority

• The embrace of aestheticized transgression

• The infusion of occult, Satanic, or esoteric symbols into music, film, and fashion

It’s part ritual, part rebellion, and entirely at home in the content economy. Sinisterianism thrives where shock becomes spectacle and where taboo becomes branding.

From Genesis to Gender Fluidity: The Prophet of Post-Humanism

Consider Genesis P-Orridge—a pioneer of industrial music and chaos magic. Through bands like Throbbing Gristle and Psychic TV, Genesis didn’t just push boundaries—they obliterated them.

Their work anticipated:

• The blending of gender identities

• The cult of the influencer

• The revival of ritual magic as performance

Genesis’ “Pandrogyny Project” with Lady Jaye was a radical bodily transformation into a unified identity—a magical and medical operation that eerily predicted today’s discourse on post-humanism, transhumanism, and fluid identity. The couple surgically altered their bodies to resemble one another, fusing love with alchemical intent. Their aim wasn’t cosmetic—it was ontological.

Genesis blurred not only gender, but the borders between art and life, self and other, flesh and symbol. In this way, Sinisterianism becomes less a subculture and more a metaphysical experiment. It’s about becoming the sigil, not just drawing it.

Marilyn Manson: From Antichrist to Allegation

If P-Orridge was the priest, Marilyn Manson was the showman. In the 1990s and early 2000s, Manson weaponized Satanic imagery, Nazi chic, and serial killer aesthetics into global superstardom. He wasn't just shocking—he was strategic. His look, his lyrics, his interviews—all served as part of a calculated media spell. He turned middle-America’s fear into his stage design.

But the darkness wasn’t just an act.

Multiple allegations of abuse, coercion, and sadism have since emerged. Manson played the rebel but lived the tyrant. What was once transgression became trauma; rebellion became routine cruelty.

In Manson’s fall, we see Sinisterianism’s shadow: its capacity to become the very authoritarianism it mocks. The aesthetic of rebellion can be a mask for domination. Subversion, when monetized and unchecked, risks collapsing into the spectacle of suffering.

Tilda Swinton: A Case Study in Cinematic Alchemy

On the opposite end of the spectrum lies Tilda Swinton, whose work evokes the mystical and the monstrous without scandal.

In films like Orlando, Suspiria, and Only Lovers Left Alive, Swinton is the embodiment of arcane elegance. Her on-screen androgyny and otherworldly poise have made her the high priestess of occult cinema. She doesn’t parody the esoteric—she channels it.

Swinton doesn’t exploit symbolism—she inhabits it. Her characters exist outside binaries: man/woman, life/death, sacred/profane. She’s not playing a part; she’s performing a rite.

If Genesis was the chaos magician and Manson the infernal priest-king, Swinton is the white witch—operating in shadows, but never consumed by them.

The Algorithmic Occult: TikTok, Fashion, and the Death of Meaning

In 2025, TikTok witches, Instagram demons, and blood-stained music videos are not fringe—they are normcore. “Witchtok” is an economy unto itself. Hashtags like #darkfem, #occultcore, and #luciferianfashion flood timelines.

Tarot cards are props, not portals. Sigils are aesthetic, not sacred. Satan isn’t scary anymore—he’s sexy, stylized, and monetized. The forbidden has become fashion. The infernal has been gentrified.

And yet, the hunger persists.

Beneath the gloss lies the same old yearning: for power, for rebellion, for transformation. Sinisterianism provides all three, minus the morality. It replaces doctrine with dopamine. It’s ritual without religion, rebellion without revolution, transformation without transcendence.

In the content economy, the occult isn’t a secret—it’s a signal. It says: I see beyond the veil. I know the code. I am the brand.

Final Invocation: Be Careful What You Summon

It’s easy to dismiss Sinisterianism as fashion. But fashion often precedes ideology. A culture that glamorizes blasphemy, ritual, and domination—without context or conscience—risks summoning real demons, metaphorical or otherwise.

The question isn’t whether Satan sells. He clearly does.

The question is: what are we buying?

Until next time,

– Greymantle