One scroll on Instagram (which could range from 5 minutes to 5 hours) will present you with much of the same.
You NEED this summer staple. Your wardrobe won’t be complete without it!
Fill the gap in your wardrobe with this piece—it’s a versatile must-have!
This 2024 trend will turn heads!
The staple? Yet another pair of ripped jeans. The low rise will apparently revolutionize my style forever.
We spend countless hours meticulously crafting the appearance of effortlessness— hours satisfied by “this old thing? I just threw it on!” But why? What’s the appeal?
Recent trends towards intentionally distressed and unfinished looks reinforce an association between youth and a casual, carefree attitude.
We create closets filled with micro trends that we’ll inevitably cringe at in a year. What drives this constant pursuit of the new, the trendy, and the disposable? Are our outfits time capsules of our youth?
“Run, don’t walk!”
Trends come. Trends go— it’s no secret. The acceleration of the trend cycle has changed consumer habits forever. Long gone are the days of investing in two or three quality pieces a year. Instead, we crave “order confirmed” as new trends emerge almost weekly.
This acceleration has conditioned us to expect the latest styles immediately.
We have our push notifications set to notify us of the next “trend alert” because it means we can get another package in the mail. Even when we’re not scrolling Urban Outfitters, we buy from their Instagram shop tab. Such immediacy fuels impulsive buying behaviors, where we feel compelled to buy multiple versions of the same trend, fearing it will sell out or become outdated within weeks.
As a result, we’ve become accustomed to disposable fashion—cheap, trendy pieces designed to be worn a few times and discarded. We say, “If I like it, I’ll just grab it in another color,” but mean, “If it tears after one wash, I’ll have a backup.”
This mindset has led to a shift in our purchasing habits. Rather than investing in quality pieces that stand the test of time, we opt for quantity over quality, filling our closets with fast fashion finds that satisfy our desire for the latest trend.
If it won’t be in style in a month, why spend the extra money?
Our accelerated consumer habits reflect a shift towards instant gratification in fashion. The only winner? The retailers capitalizing on this behavior. Brands like H&M and Zara have mastered such an art, producing new collections every few weeks to keep up with demand. Fit in for just $9.99.
Even if we wanted to dress chic and timeless, our constant need to consume would prevent us from doing so. Our closets are about to burst, and this cheap clothing has a hidden cost.
Designer deception
When it’s not cheap, we want it to look that way.
Designer brands are capitalizing on these trends. The production of thin and often unsustainable clothing is a quick grab at youthful wallets. Brands like Golden Goose sell $600+ sneakers that are “pre-scuffed” and intentionally dirty, suggesting an ability to afford the appearance of disheveled luxury.
Don’t you dare ask anyone sporting the sneakers if they’re wearing old Converse.
Other examples include Balenciaga, who sells a pair of “Super Destroyed Baggy Pants” for $2,450. In fact, most of their 2023 and 2024 collections are described as “heavily destroyed” with a “dirty effect.”
Though this trend is prevalent now, it’s not entirely new. In 2017, The Barracuda Straight Leg Jeans from designer PRPS emerged and went viral for all the wrong reasons. Sold on Nordstrom for $425 a pair, these jeans are, too, billed as “heavily distressed” thanks to the faux mud baked into the design.
According to their product description on the Nordstrom website, the jeans “embody rugged, Americana workwear that’s seen some hard-working action with a crackled, caked-on muddy coating that shows you’re not afraid to get down and dirty.”
In essence, the fashion industry is embracing an aesthetic that celebrates the appearance of wear and tear, only to abandon it once the novelty wears off. You can try on the costume but change it when it gets itchy.
Status symbol
The fashion industry perpetuates this cycle of sloppiness, promoting the allure of well-worn and tattered clothes as a sign of status and leisure.
Miu Miu’s Spring 2024 collection “explores a rationale of beauty today.” Head designer Miuccia Prada explains in the show notes, “In an ever-changing world, beauty must echo the complexity of our era: this collection is a search for a reflective definition, a reactive address of beauty for modern times.” Prada stresses the beauty in unique characters and the joy of life.
At the Paris show, models carried unzipped bags overflowing with anything and everything— from metallic heels to folded jeans. Complex enough?
Sure, it’s easy to embrace such complexity when you’re carrying around your $1200 shoes in your $4000 bag. Is this real and raw, or just real-ly expensive?
The Birkin Bag Effect
These bags were also adorned with ropes, charms, and chains—a look originated by British-French icon Jane Birkin. The actress and singer notably treated her Hermes Birkin bag, a piece named after her, like any old tote.
Jane claimed, “There’s no fun in a bag if it’s not kicked around so that it looks as if the cat’s been sitting on it—and it usually has. The cat may even be in it!”
In an effort to join in on this idea of “quiet wealth,” everyday people have begun treating their luxury items the same, but these acts are not equal. What started as a stand for individualism and haphazardness has become yet another class indicator. Are you “rich enough to buy it” or “rich enough to use it?”
Who gets to own expensive things, and who gets to play pretend?
It’s no longer enough to own a Birkin. You must also be prepared to “destroy” it, regardless of the thousands of dollars you spent at Hermes, just to be offered the opportunity to purchase. You should be nonchalant enough in your ownership to immediately embellish it with opulent accessories (from your equally opulent travels, of course).
“A bag is meant to be used,” but only when you can afford to buy another.
Jane Birkin auctioned off her famous bag in 2011 for the low cost of $163,000. Glamour Magazine wrote there are “no details on who the proud new owner is, but we’re guessing she won’t be using her new (old) Birkin to schlep groceries around in!” She can afford the bag but not the luxury.
You’ll get it someday
It’s not cool to care—or at least, it isn’t cool right now. This modern shift towards sloppiness and carelessness presents an interesting question of self-expression.
If authenticity is a sign of youthfulness, is self-expression also naive? Is it something we’ll eventually grow out of?
