Individuality vs. the Microtrend

Dread. A feeling that would hit me like a truck as soon as I would wake up. Reluctantly, I had to roll out of my warm sheets, pad across the room, just to blankly stare at my wardrobe. Jeans, t-shirt, hoodie. Jeans, t-shirt, hoodie. Jeans, t-shirt, hoodie–no that’s a crewneck.

I despised getting ready for the day, it wasn’t just a tedious task, it was a bitter reminder that my closet lacked a certain spark– a spark to motivate me to change out of my sweatpants and worn band tee. Why did I feel like this, I swore I had done everything right to dress well? I saved up and bought everything that caught my attention online, so why didn’t I feel the same dopamine rush I had when adding it to my cart? Let’s just say, I wasted all of my money on a closet in which nothing felt like me. Each article of clothing sitting in my closet was part of my failed attempt to be something I wasn’t. My reflection showed someone who was trying to be the picture from the Pinterest board rather than their true self. As a result, I failed to realize that my frustration wasn’t something personal; it was a symptom of a much larger shift happening within fashion as a whole.

With this in mind, what does this mean for fashion and individuality? Has the sea of trends hindered us from discovering our own style, or has the sheer volume of trends created more freedom to explore and experiment with these rapidly changing ideas?

Open up any social media platform such as TikTok, Instagram, and Pinterest, it is easy to find a plethora of “outfit inspo” posts. This isn’t inherently a bad thing, but it has heavily influenced this culture of overconsumption and replication. When in search of outfit inspo, within seconds the internet funnels us toward fast fashion sites that can recreate exactly an outfit from a social media post.

Right now, areas of the industry are struggling to encourage creativity, deciding to depend on platforms that promote instant and trend-driven replication. This cycle explains the disconnect I had, where there was no intention to how I was dressing. When we allow our style to be something we consume rather than create, the clothing loses its ability to tell a story. Instead, it becomes another visual representation of whatever is popular and trendy.

Now, I try to only buy what genuinely speaks to my character. Before making a purchase, I ask myself questions such as “How often would I really wear this?” or “Do I both look and feel good in this?”. Allowing myself to take a moment to question my intentions has changed how I interact with fashion. I choose to focus more on sustainability, supporting small businesses, and statement pieces, rather than hopping on what's blowing up on social media.

My wardrobe remains simple–mostly consisting of jeans, tees, and hoodies–but I’ve learned how to dress in a way that makes me feel confident. As my collection and style continues to grow, I value the confidence in my attire. What matters most to me is that I feel good in my clothes and I’m not trying to make anyone happy but myself. Even in just my silly graphic tee and jeans that have the most insane heel bite, I feel just as good as when I’m “fitted up”.