It’s 2024, the world is burning, and you’re wondering if big red box logos are still the vibe. Don’t worry— the hypebeast era is still very much alive, but its former visage has been forced to change drastically under the pressures of never ending drop culture.
2016 is a time fondly regarded as the last of the good years: the age of the influencer was at its zenith, A24 had us in the best cinematic grip and Rihanna was still giving us music—peak. It was also the last year that fashion felt like it made sense. As the largest generation, Gen Z, started to come into teenagehood, there was a deeply palpable change in pace at which change itself occurred. Fostered by the rise of social media influence, attention spans shortened and suddenly what you wore became both incredibly important and incredulously disposable. Arguably the biggest impact on the apparel industry in this last decade has been the establishment, adoption and then total domination of fast paced fits, particularly on the 35 and under demographic. (No, millennials aren’t safe from this conversation.)
Let’s look at the timeline: fashion cannibal Shein gained popularity in 2015 and introduced an entirely new ethos to consumerism. With questionably low prices and extensive catalogs, the barrier to being in vogue suddenly vanished. Now, a 13 year old could purchase an entire lookbook off a single babysitter paycheck. Coupled with the resurgence of wearing all things ‘decades past’, fashion dipped into an era of modern absurdism where it was an “anything goes” code. The focus turned to making fits that were fire, fast, and frequent. This resulted in an onslaught of apparel drops from companies of all sizes just racing to keep up with the trend of trending. Limited releases and one off items became anticipated normalities throughout the industry because almost as soon as something came, it went, leaving the kids wanting more and wanting it now. The pressure to outshine unknown competition online through curated social media posts was high.
Enter 2020 and the fall of Earth as we knew it— momentarily at least. The complete halt on outdoor activity gave fat pause to the need to wear much more than a half assed sweatsuit at home. But fashion has never been driven by necessity. Instead, it feeds off imagination, curiosity and pure want. The want to pair fuzzy leg warmers with silk blouses, the desire to see how high a collar can be built before its structure collapses; we’ve graduated from the days of normcore and utility wear into a state of fashion freedom. So, the pandemic actually had an unexpected effect on the industry and instead of asking “flex for who?”, the conversation became about flexing to the nth degree and pushing that reach as far as possible. This is where absurdism thrived with kids creating scroll-stopping ensembles, sometimes multiple in a single post. We dumped out hundred dollar hauls from fast fashion brands on camera without remorse as fashion leapt into hyperspeed with drop culture at the helm, captaining streetwear into murky waters that forced the question “if everyone is special, then, is anyone?”
As we pulled up to 2023, a collective social media fatigue overtook society dubbing the rush to cool, uncool. Posts of carousels highlighting nothing more than blurry photo dumps, warped 0.5 angle selfies, real monotony, started to surge. A renaissance of posting raw, in the moment snaps let streetwear breathe and recover from the years of intense competition and as globally conscious Gen Alpha became of impactful age in the social scene, a demand to revise our fashion habits was established. Now we have open conversations about the atrocities of foreign workers making the clothes we once coveted for bowls of rice, but how did that theoretical discourse translate into practical application?— we popularized slow fashion. Instead of continuing to have us clamor over weekly drops, companies began priding themselves on the exclusivity of releases that emphasize their limited nature based on quality material availability, fair production pipeline wages and meaningful collaborations with lesser known artists. Slow fashion encouraged self reflection as to why you were buying a piece and if it was really what you wanted; a shift from quantity to quality.
Streetwear will always reflect the momentary zeitgeist as it is a fashion genre grounded in the unique and ever changing intersectionality of politics, social concerns and self expression. It is the fashion of now, and aims to tap directly into the vein that makes you feel something visceral upon impact so even when it’s quiet luxury, it’s a loud statement. This movement into detail oriented apparel is welcomed with a sense of strong individuality as fashion is starting to reflect deeper decision making based on elements like fabric origins, ethical price reflections and company ethos. Paradoxically, we exhausted ourselves moving at such a fast pace during such a slow time in the ‘Vid, and ironically the burnout came from trying to keep up with a force that was ultimately pushing us towards self definition, in a sea of oversaturated sameness. Smaller apparel creators can be seen making clothes that reflect their personal passions, and the passions of their peers, which strengthen the bonds between purveyors of their brands. Our everyday wear now sparks conversations on personal ideals, hobbies and niches. Streetwear has become the most visual representation of putting our money where our values are. We want to feel good about what we wear and why we’re wearing it, and we want others to know that, because caring is the new cool.