By Abby Mullaney

I often find myself becoming overwhelmed by the trend cycle recently. This is a common feeling expressed by a lot of those who are fashion-oriented. But as some of my friends started to shift into a post-grad style compared to the more relaxed college style, I can't help but notice it's hard to figure out what to buy that will last longer than a season.

I've never been much of a shopper. I'll admit that. I especially loathe the hellscape fashion retail has become recently. 

I remember how it used to feel so exciting to go to Urban Outfitters and not be bombarded with copy-and-paste designer dupes and lazy designs. Urban used to feel like a place my favorite YouTuber shopped, and now it feels…off.

When I went thrifting in high school, I always bought random T-shirts. I never looked at fashion and shopping critically. No one does until they get their first job, a professional presentation or even a strict dress code. But even when I hated having a dress code, I still found myself putting more effort into my outfit compared to when I didn't.

Fashion and understanding trends are all about the act of noticing, and I mean genuinely noticing. I started to notice when I got my first retail job. I worked at a consignment boutique that only had nicer brands, in stark contrast to the thrift stores I was used to. 

It was here that I started to notice seasonality and trends. I picked up on the difference in fabrics and textiles and how the feeling of wool differed from a cotton blend. This is where I realized that fashion isn’t exclusively about whether something looks fantastic but also the right shape and material. This altered my brain chemistry. 

Then, I started to make digital styling videos. Even though they were specific to the weird niche of Harry Potter, I was subconsciously creating outfits that existed within a particular lifestyle.

The point was that I noticed what was trendy versus timeless. I was picking up on specific aspects of clothing that worked beyond aesthetic purpose. This is where I saw a disconnect between building clothes around your everyday needs and not limiting yourself to wearing popular items.

There has been discourse on TikTok recently regarding the Jane Birkin-ification of bags, like adding charms and trinkets to new bags to satisfy the lived-in aesthetic. While making personalization more mainstream has allowed more people to explore what they consider motifs within their lives, it fails to recognize how consumers don't value fashion items the same anymore. 

The reason Birkin and the Olsen Twins’ handbags have the worn-out rustic aesthetic TikTok Shop affiliates only dream of is that (drum roll please) they are lived-in. The bag charms are collectibles from travels over the years, and the wear and tear are just signs of said handbags’ longevity and timeless chicness.

I have noticed that many consumers try to emulate this lived-in style without considering the true longevity of an item. My friends, who are more shopaholics than I, tend to buy things for the sake of buying them, then justify it by explaining that they really did need another pair of Edikted jeans that give off Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy energy. But I don't have the heart to tell them that those $32 poly-blend jeans will only look and feel like that for another four washes. 

In contrast, Bessette-Kennedy wore 100% denim that naturally faded and shaped to her after multiple years of wearing them. Or even within a thrifting space, the same friends will buy a vintage silk camisole that was just such a good find they had to buy, not considering that they might already have three or four of the same style top in their closet collecting dust.

So how does one become a more sustainable consumer, especially when it’s now a trend to shop vintage? For those who are fashion literate, it is essential to understand which looks from the runway or even designer retail items you can see yourself wearing in five years. I think about the mesh shoe trend this summer. While it came from the likes of The Row and Khaite, it was quickly engulfed by the likes of Zara and Mango. 

A mesh shoe is a seasonal trend, but it was something I didn’t see myself, or even a lot of those buying it, to last past this summer. Comparatively, a woven style flat or sandal has the same ethos as a mesh flat: breathability. Yet, it is a style that has withstood a more extended trend period. Woven leather is also more durable and adds a different functionality to the shoe.

I understand that a lot of the creativity in fashion revolves around looking at clothing from a unique perspective. Still, those who want to partake in trends within their everyday wardrobe might not think about how comfortable and long lasting those mesh flats really are. 

So, for those who are maybe not as fashion literate as they think, instead of wanting to purchase something based on who is wearing it and the aesthetic it is giving, think about your everyday wear of the item, and then imagine how that item will look in your closet in five years.

I'm not perfect. Almost half of the clothes I had during my first year of college are not in my wardrobe today. But now I look at the clothes I've bought this year, and 90% of them will last me well into my life post-grad. (Admittedly, a lot of it has to do with my stubbornness in spending money, but still). Fashion is art, and sometimes, you have to look at art critically to understand the point. Happy consuming!

Abby Mullaney is a fourth-year business student. She recently studied abroad in Paris, where she studied visual merchandising and trend forecasting. Abby also had the opportunity to work Paris Fashion Week and get insight into the fashion world. She hopes to continue this post-grad.

This article and accompanying media was submitted by an independent student/faculty member. If you are interested in having your work featured in The Panther, reach out to pantheropinions@chapman.edu.