Images: Versailles no Bara/Tokyo Movie Shinsa, Nana/Madhouse, Sailor Moon/Toei Animation
Shoujo is an ever-evolving genre that has spanned generations, retelling, reshaping, reinforcing, and challenging notions about girlhood and femininity.
Shoujo is an integral part of the anime and manga industry, catering to a gender demographic that has continuously influenced its direction. As such, the genre is an ever-evolving reflection of society’s perception of girlhood and femininity: from the idealised romanticism of the ‘50s to the ‘60s, to the trailblazing feminism of the ‘70s to the ‘80s, all the way to the hyperfeminine magic of the ‘90s, and its grounded realism in the 2000s and 2010s. Shoujo has celebrated the complexities of girlhood and pushed it beyond its limits, and as it continues to expand, it challenges what it means to grow, love, and find identity as a girl in an ever-changing world.
How did shoujo become what it is today, and how far will it go in the modern world? Let’s take a look at its evolution.
The birth of shoujo in pre-war Japan
Image: Shojo-Kai first issue
Japanese manga experienced an industry boom during the Meiji era when new magazines aimed at the male teenage demographic, known as shounen, began to publish content. Although these magazines were marketed as unisex, female readers found that the stories being published were unrelatable to their experiences, and with a growing demand for girl-centric magazines, the first shoujo magazine, titled Shojo-kai, was launched in 1902. Shojo-kai was quickly followed by magazines like Shojo no Tamo (1908), Shojo Gaho (1912), and Shojo Club (1923), and primarily published illustrated novels and poems.
The creation of these girl-centric magazines laid the foundation for what would become shoujo as a genre, establishing the recurrent themes of love and friendship, as well as what would come to be known as the standard shoujo aesthetic: female figures with slender bodies, fashionable taste, and large eyes.
But shoujo manga only began to take form in the 1930s, and started off with short, humorous stories featuring tomboyish protagonists, thanks to the influence of artists such as Suiho Tagawa, Shosuke Kurakane, and Katsuji Matsumoto – who were all male!
As Japan entered the second Sino-Japanese War in 1937 however, censorship and paper rationing led to the closure of many of the girl-centric magazines, with only Shojo Club and Shojo no Tomo remaining in publication.
Shoujo in Post-War Japan, to trailblazing feminism in the ‘70s
Shoujo’s manga boom came after World War 2, with the 1950s becoming a particularly productive generation for the genre, thanks to the works of Osamu Tezuka, Macoto Takahashi, Toshiko Ueda, and Shosuke Kurokane.
Shoujo itself as a genre was established during this time, lobbied by male artists like Leiji Matsumoto, Shotaro Ishinomori, Kazuo Umezu, and Tetsuya Shiba, whose works focused on tragic and passive female protagonists bravely enduring suffering and adversity; a clear representation of the after-effects of war in Japan.
As demands began to rise, previously novel-and-poem centric magazines evolved into manga magazines, with Kodansha launching the first shoujo magazine in 1954, titled Nakayoshi, followed by Shueisha’s Ribon in 1955.
Image: Machiko Satonaka, AnimeNewsNetwork, Mainichi Shimbun
The 1960s finally saw the emergence of female manga artists. With the rise of television as a direct competitor to the magazine market, various publishers began manga contests where readers could submit their works for publication. Many of those who submitted were female artists, and would go on to have professional careers, with the first to emerge from this being Machiko Satonaka, who debuted her first manga, Pia no Shozo (Portrait of Pia) through the magazine Shojo Friend in 1964.
Television and manga began to collaborate with each other with the rise of manga-to-anime adaptations, giving way to a new form of entertainment for enjoyers of the genre. The first anime to be adapted from a manga was Mitsuteru Yokoyama’s Mahoutsukai Sally (or Sally the Witch), which came out in 1966. The series reflected much of what was popular to audiences at the time; Sally is a witch princess who teleports to the mortal realm, and experiences the normality of Japanese schoolgirl life as she tries to keep her mystical powers concealed.
However, a marked advancement in women’s rights and feminism in the West during this time also found its way to Japan, inspiring artists to adopt a mature outlook on the genre, with narrative and thematic complexity beginning to take root. Osamu Tezuka’s Ribbon no Kishi (Princess Knight), which serialised from 1953 to 1956, and was adapted into an anime in 1967, focused on more complex themes that explored gender dynamics, experienced by main character Sapphire who is embroiled in a journey of strength and self-discovery.
When the generation turned and the 1970s began, shoujo entered a golden age thanks to the rise of a collective known as the Year 24 Group.
The Year 24 Group, which included artists like Moto Hagio, Keiko Takemiya, Yasuko Aoike, and Nanae Sasaya, among many others, focused on writing narratives that delved into the internal psychology of their characters, introducing a variety of sub-genres such as adventure, science fiction, fantasy, and historical drama. Thanks to their trailblazing influences, shoujo did away with simplistic stories and introduced more complex stories that centred around strong female protagonists.
Image: Oscar Francois de Jarjayes/The Rose of Versailles, Tokyo Movie Shinsa
But the series that would define this era of shoujo was Ryoko Ikeda’s groundbreaking work, The Rose of Versailles. Drawing from the innovations of the Year 24 Group, the series blended mature themes with a distinctly shoujo perspective. Through the lives of Marie Antoinette and Lady Oscar, Ikeda crafted a historical drama that redefined the genre, setting a new standard for complexity and emotional depth in shoujo storytelling. The show pulled from the earlier influences in shoujo with its tragic setting, but reinvigorated the genre with complex discussions of femininity and gender barriers. As a woman raised as a man to inherit her father’s position, Lady Oscar challenged rigid gender roles, navigating both privilege and restriction in a way that resonated deeply with audiences and set a precedent for future gender-nonconforming protagonists in shoujo.
The Rose of Versailles’ take on gender and sexuality influenced later works in the 1980s, particularly with titles like Natsu e no Tobira (1981), Aishite Knight (1983), and Kaze to Ki no Uta: Sei Naru Kana (1987). By breaking away from rigid gender roles and exploring themes of identity, love, and societal expectation, Ikeda’s work laid the foundation for shoujo’s growing interest in gender nonconformity and queer narratives. Kaze to Ki no Uta, in particular, pushed these themes further, becoming a landmark in the Shounen Ai (boys’ love) genre, while Natsu e no Tobira explored bisexuality and emotional repression in a way that echoed The Rose of Versailles’ elegant yet tragic storytelling. The bold steps taken by Ikeda and the Year 24 Group reshaped shoujo’s landscape, making way for increasingly complex and diverse representations of femininity and romance.
Hyperfemininity through the Mahou Shoujo craze of the ‘90s
The 1990s introduced another shift in trend for shoujo, particularly influenced by the rise of Mahou Shoujo (magical girl) during the ‘60s all the way to the ‘80s. This era saw the subgenre evolve beyond its early roots, embracing themes of hyperfemininity, empowerment, and transformation in ways that resonated deeply with audiences, with Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon (Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon) taking the reins in what would be known as the Mahou Shoujo craze– a craze that brought even male readers and viewers, who were disinterested with shoujo, into consideration.
Unlike earlier Mahou Shoujo series, which focused on a single heroine balancing her magical powers with everyday life, Sailor Moon upped the ante by incorporating more shounen-centred dynamics: a team of magical warriors fighting against various antagonistic foes, yet still emphasising pre-established themes like love and friendship.
Image: Bishojo Senshi Sailor Moon, Toei Animation
Sailor Moon brought a hyperfeminine touch to its otherwise battle-centric narrative, showing that there is power in being confident in your femininity. The show featured amazing transformation sequences which adorned characters with frilly skirts and stylish hairstyles, making it a point to show audiences, in particular young girls, that strength isn’t a male-only concept.
Sailor Moon also did away with the passive, tragedy-enduring protagonists of the earlier decades, and instead set to portray complexity in characterisation; Usagi Tsukino, the main protagonist, was first introduced as clumsy, emotional, and reluctant, but as the series progressed she grew to become courageous, responsible, and incredibly loving to those around her. The series also tackled topics concerning sexuality and gender nonconformity, introducing a lesbian relationship to the mainstream with the romance between Sailor Uranus and Sailor Neptune.
Sailor Moon’s overwhelming popularity in the early half of the 1990s became a marked cultural shift in shoujo as a whole. Following its success, Mahou Shoujo titles like Magic Knight Rayearth (1993) and Cardcaptor Sakura (1996) focused on providing complex narratives that celebrated girl power, featuring feminine-coded aesthetics as a vehicle for strength and capability, making it a point to prove to audiences that girlishness and agency were not mutually exclusive.
A realistic approach to the feminine experience in the 2000s and 2010s
At the turn of the new millennium, shoujo began to move away from the Mahou Shoujo craze as audience sensibilities turned to favour a more realistic approach to its portrayal of girlhood, showcasing a depth in emotion that’s been touched in previous eras.
Image: Nana Osaki/Nana, Madhouse
With Ai Yozawa’s Nana getting an adaptation in 2000, viewers were treated to what was considered at the time to be a modern take on femininity, womanhood, and relationships. Fantasy-based empowerment took a step back to highlight real-world conflicts, self-discovery, and the hardships of growing up.
Following the steps of Nana, other titles like Honey and Clover (2000) and Fruits Basket (2001) depicted young women as they navigated love, ambition, and self-worth, melding together humanised drama that any confused, lonely teenager could relate to. This maturity marked a blurring of lines between shoujo and josei, where romantic idealism, which for so long had been a hallmark of shoujo, was less-favoured to the realistic portrayal of love and relationships.
Image: Sawako Kuronuma/Kimi ni Todoke, Production I.G, Netflix
As society began to highlight the importance of mental health, shoujo evolved to feature more proactive heroines and a wider emotional spectrum, transforming these themes into narrative focal points rather than mere obstacles to be overcome through romance. Bokura ga Ita (2002) and Kimi ni Todoke (2005) became introspective works that highlighted a teenaged girl’s struggle with insecurity, leading to slow-but-compelling personal growth, paired with the formation of deep bonds with friends, family, and love interests. Titles like Kimi ga Nozomu Eien (2003), Ao Haru Ride (2011), Orange (2012), and March Comes in Like a Lion (2016) tackled mental health and regrets at the forefront, giving way to stories that placed an importance to addressing sensitive topics such as depression, anxiety, and suicide.
Although shoujo took a more realistic turn during this time, the mid-to-late 2010s saw a revival of fantasy shoujo, evolving the sub-genre to explore deeper emotional complexity without relying on magical transformations for empowerment. Instead, titles like Yona of the Dawn (2010), Snow White with the Red Hair (2011), The Ancient Magus’ Bride (2013), and Soredemo Sekai wa Utsukushii (2014) blended fantasy with introspection, psychological depth, and emotional realism, creating a new wave of fantasy-driven narratives centered around complex heroines.
Image: Yona/Yona of the Dawn, Pierrot, Crunchyroll
Compared to their ‘90s counterparts, hyperfemininity takes a step back in favour of heroines who navigate their worlds through personal resilience, growth, and emotional intelligence rather than a reliance on transformation and destiny-bound power. Femininity itself is not the direct source of empowerment, but instead comes as a result of overcoming hardship and trauma through a heroine’s own means. Unlike in the magical girl boom, where love interests often served as emotional supports or external sources of strength, this new wave of fantasy shoujo prioritised the heroine’s self-actualisation. Romance takes a secondary role, emerging naturally as the protagonist develops her own sense of identity and purpose.
But the magical girl genre was far from a relic of the past. Instead, it underwent a dramatic narrative and stylistic shift, thanks to titles like Puella Magi Madoka Magica (2011) and Magical Girl Site (2018). Gone were the cheerful high school girls fighting evil in dazzling costumes; in their place came dark, tragic stories steeped in suffering, violence, and existential dread. These series redefined the genre, exploring the psychological and philosophical burdens of heroism in ways that resonated with a new generation of viewers.
Image: Puella Magi Madoka Magica, Shaft, Crunchyroll
This shift not only deconstructed the traditional Mahou Shoujo formula but also left a lasting mark on shoujo itself. The success of Madoka Magica paved the way for further dark reinterpretations of magical girl tropes, inspiring series like Yuki Yuna is a Hero (2014) and Magical Girl Raising Project (2016), which continued to explore themes of trauma, sacrifice, and moral ambiguity. Even outside of the genre, its influence could be seen in fantasy and shoujo works that embraced psychological depth and high-stakes emotional conflict, proving that Mahou Shoujo could evolve beyond its traditional roots while still captivating audiences.
What’s next for shoujo?
With a new generation blossoming, shoujo once again finds itself at a crossroads. As the 2020s unfold, girlhood continues to evolve, and with it, the stories that define shoujo. Genre lines are blurring with every new release, introducing heroines who step beyond the familiar standards of the past. Some of the most striking portrayals of girlhood aren’t even coming from shoujo titles at all, raising the question: what truly defines the genre in this era?
Recent years have seen an increasing number of works outside of shoujo that still resonate with its audience. Established seinen series like Oshi no Ko and Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End, and shounen titles like Horimiya, Romantic Killer, and Komi Can’t Communicate take from shoujo conventions, and feature heroines with deeply emotional arcs that speak to the female experience, even if they fall outside the traditional shoujo label.
Even within shoujo, the realistic trends that shaped the 2010s continue to evolve, pushing beyond familiar boundaries. Titles like Yubisaki to Renren, Josee, the Tiger and the Fish, My Love Story with Yamada-kun at Lv.999, My Happy Marriage, and Insomniacs After School explore themes of self-actualization, growth, and love with a newfound emotional depth and maturity.
At the same time, nostalgia has become a key force shaping the genre’s future. The resurgence of classics like Fruits Basket and Tokyo Mew Mew through modern remakes has introduced these beloved stories to a new generation, often with updated narratives that deepen their emotional impact. Meanwhile, older works with enduring influence, such as Nana and Ouran High School Host Club, continue to find new audiences, proving that shoujo’s past still holds power in the present.
So, where does shoujo go from here? While its traditional framework remains, the genre’s defining themes are expanding beyond their original borders. The stories of girlhood are no longer bound by the expectations that once defined them, and perhaps that is shoujo’s greatest strength: it transforms, just as its audience does.
