Are you an it girl or a clean girl? Coastal granddaughter or coquette? Art hoe or cyberpunk?
Being a young person often comes with a desire for a sense of belonging. Microtrends, or ‘core’ trends offer a superficial yet alluring solution to this pursuit of acceptance and approval, promising an instant inclusion into a community — just as long as you buy the right products, from the right brands, at the right time.
But where is the line drawn between belonging and conformity?
Social media algorithms and the influencers who control them now hurl orders to purchase niche and colourway-specific pieces at viewers in order to fit the bill for whatever aesthetic the consumer hopes to embody.
Physical realms and communities like the goths, emos, punks, and ravers, within which young people historically birthed their identities, started to fade when social media came to its peak. There is no denying that the isolation people faced during COVID, and the coinciding amplification of TikTok, meant the death of these physical hubs of identity birthed a new breed of diluted experience of adolescents searching for meaning and connection.
A manufactured authenticity begins, where ‘Punk’ is now a ‘core’ that you can achieve by stocking your cart on AliExpress with fishnet tights, a black tennis skirt and leather jacket, without having to tap into the inconvenient anti-capitalist and activist practices that created it.
The process of identifying with art, musical movements, political ideas and practices that were the former to creating an aesthetic has been removed and replaced with an ever changing ‘viral fit-check to shopping-cart’ channel.
Specific styles are synonymous with certain media and interests. If an individual reflects a certain aesthetic, this comes with an assumption of their taste beyond simply fashion. An affinity for lace and ribbons equals loving Lana Del Rey and binge-watching Sofia Coppola films, diet Coke in hand. Floral dresses and frills means they listen to Hozier and spend their days frolicking in a countryside field.
This is not to say that fashion isn’t an expression of identity, but rather that it deviates from its true purpose when everybody is wearing a new-age uniform, reinforcing the idea that fashion is less about self-expression and more about fitting in.
The microtrend rise has also seen an unprecedented shift from the fashion industry decreeing what is considered en-vogue, to consumers holding the power, leaving designers and brands scrambling to keep up.
This incessantly revolving door of trends is unattainable, particularly for the average consumer. After pushing a certain item that simply must be purchased (run, don’t walk to buy it!), a few weeks later, the influencers and trend forecasters who were so insistent will undoubtedly be making videos labelling it as out-of-style, or ‘cheugy’.
While the average consumer realistically cannot afford to purchase some of these popular items like this $3,850 pair of Miu Miu biker boots, this is where fast fashion labels take their chance to strike with duplicates. This democratises luxury fashion items, making them accessible to a wider group of people.
However, we are seeing an increasing level of design theft from smaller labels, begging the question of whether this process is entirely disingenuous as it undermines the creativity and originality of designers, while also contributing to the unsustainable practices of fast fashion. Despite the 307 million difference in population size, Australians have overtaken the US as the world’s biggest fast fashion consumers, purchasing an average of one new item of clothing per week.
In a world where trends change overnight, perhaps the most revolutionary act is to resist the pressure to conform and instead cultivate a style that is genuinely your own. Use trends as the inspiration, not the rule. Rewear or revamp what you already own, identify patterns in your own wardrobe and pieces that you like, and curate a personal style that you know is the result of dressing for nobody but yourself.
