Feeling conned by online fashion aesthetics

"It is so easy to fall into the trap of subconsciously thinking that adopting these trends will fill the emptiness inside..."

Dear fellow human,

Last week I had one of those day-long text exchanges with a good friend where we put the world to right, including my closet. I confessed my confusion as to why my brain constantly hassles me with wanting to buy a whole new wardrobe of super cool, stylised, and cohesive clothes. One might think ‘that’s a bit melodramatic, they’re just clothes’, but repetitive and obsessive thoughts are debilitating no matter the topic.

My brain was, yet again, trying to convince me that I would be accepted when I find a ‘cool’ dress sense. Boho cowboy? Preppy indie? Hippie goth? It’s a familiar drone that is very persuasive and has been the subconscious driver of masking and the protagonist of many chapters in my story so far. Like the period of time where I decided to try to make friends in sixth form by throwing out all of my alternative clothes and replacing them with preppy numbers, or the time in my early 20s when I exclusively wore boho-inspired outfits because I thought being known as the ‘yoga girl’ would be cool.

My friend suggested after several podcast-length voice notes on Whatsapp that two realities can be true at once: the reality where I dream about and appreciate outfits that I think are ‘cool’, and the reality where I choose not to wear them because I know they won’t actually bring me any joy (whether that be because they aren’t soft, comfortable, or versatile enough - three cornerstones I’ve committed to in what I wear for sensory and executive functioning reasons). Take, for example, a 70s structured denim jumpsuit with a belt around the waist. It’s okay that I dream of being the person that wears that, and it’s okay that I wouldn’t choose to wear that because it would almost certainly make me want to crawl out of my meat suit within half an hour of putting it on.

It sounds futile, perhaps, but this is yet another example of me learning to accept and honour my current self and needs. It exemplifies a tidal shift in my inner world from “what can I do to feel part of it all? To fit in? To impress people?” to “what are my needs right now and how can I meet them?”.

And that’s not to say that one of my needs right now can’t be to “look cool” or “feel put together”. The difference is that these are simply factors that I weigh in to my other needs. I’m no longer looking to wholesale replace the parts of myself that are limiting or difficult at times. I am looking to accommodate them. Strangely enough, this feels a lot more exciting than chasing a version of myself that could never exist in reality because I know it is more sustainable. After years of changing like a chameleon to chase the rush of ‘maybe this is it’, sustainable sounds just wonderful.

This got me thinking about aesthetic trends like ‘Clean Girl’ and ‘VSCO Girl’ online. My introduction to TikTok coincided with another ‘rebrand’; I threw out most of my clothes and replaced them all with dresses. Now whilst this behaviour doesn’t exactly mimic a specific aesthetic, the motivation behind it was certainly inspired by the concept.

These aesthetics that are sold to us online in spaces such as TikTok can often motivate people like me to ‘rebrand’ themselves entirely. Not just what to wear, but what to do with free time, what desirable personality traits to adopt, and how to interact with people.

Primarily I take issue with the widespread use of the term ‘rebranding’ when it comes to talking about humans. This is a word that has been co-opted from the corporate world. To me, it’s like saying that you choose what to wear based on what ‘dividends’ you will reap. Applying terminology like this dehumanises and homogenises human expression across time and space. It tells us there is a right way and a wrong way. It tells us what is ‘cool’ and what is not. It tells us that we have to be predictable and easily definable to be and feel of value.

Someone with a strong sense of self may be able to discern this subconsciously and simply avoid engaging with certain aesthetics all together. Or they may take inspiration from it and choose not to wholesale replace themselves in the process. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with influence, inspiration, and experimentation. Quite the opposite, I think this creativity is what makes life so beautiful.

But I do fear for those of us who have struggled with, or continue to struggle with, self-erasure. It is so easy to fall into the trap of subconsciously thinking that adopting these trends will fill the emptiness inside, will make us feel whole, and will make us feel like we know and are more confident in ourselves. Sure, it may work for a little while. But then the next aesthetic will pop up. There will be a new persona to try on. Being out of the loop will feel unbearable again, and so the cycle continues.

I can’t un-see the capitalist machine at work. The people creating content promoting certain aesthetics often benefit from pushing the trend, whether that be through more views, more Amazon sales, or paid partnerships. Whether they are doing it consciously or not, the promotion of these aesthetics is a marketing tool. And often women are the target audience.

It’s no surprise, but sad nonetheless, that these online aesthetic trends do not exist for men in such a pervasive way. Men do not receive the same messaging that they should consider changing themselves, spending more money, and buying more things in order to feel valued. These aesthetics continue to encourage women to ‘fake it’. To put on a mask. And to focus on what they look like for the outside world. And for those of us, like me, with a weak sense of self, that can be dangerous.

So this week I went shopping, without an idea in my head of what I thought I ‘should’ wear, but with a short list of unique parameters that I need from my clothes. I stood in the store and really looked at each item. I thought about what I needed from my clothes, and whether the item fulfilled them. I felt the fabric and decided if it would feel good on my skin. I checked the shape and the cut to see if it would give me room to move freely. It was the most enjoyable shopping experience I’ve had in a decade.

At the end of the day clothes are clothes. They cannot in and of themselves give me a strong sense of self. Sometimes I wish they could, that would be a quick fix! But the only way I can really develop sustainable and fulfilling style is by getting to know myself. And the only way I can get to know myself is working out what I need, what I like, what feels good to me, and pay attention when these things inevitably change over time. That’s not something TikTok can do for me.

Sending you love,

Charlie ♡