I got tired of so much trend! Generation Z gives signs of fatigue in front of faster and faster fads

In recent years, new “fashion” water bottles have been consecrated almost quarterly. Influencers encourage their followers to dress as coastal grandparents, dancers, indie slears and bunny – visuals who have little in common beyond the consumption they require.

Doubts like the “mafia wife’s aesthetics,” recognized by publications such as the New York Times, led New Yorker’s humor column to predict what could come next: How about “Casual Supreme Court” or “Gothic-Pintan-Pintan Mosca”?

Following all this would leave most people without money, not to mention disoriented. And while most of these madness are labeled as “generation Z trends,” members of this generation can be the most tired of constant change.

It’s not that they don’t understand what’s going on: Young adults today can discuss comfortably how social networks and fast fashion keep many members of their generation by buying, sharing and discarding items. They are sometimes aware that their insecurities are being explored for the profit of others.

But consciousness is not synonymous with liberation. Understanding the mechanisms at stake does not always mean that they can escape them – there are many are trying.

Neena Atkins, 16, a high school student in Dobbs Ferry, New York, said she feels “constantly bombarded” on product recommendations. Leopard print had been on the rise for less than two months, she said. “And now, when I enter Tiktok, I see people saying that Leopard’s print is getting too outdated.”

Lina, 15, high school freshman near Fort Wayne, Indiana, saw colleagues buy Stanley glasses of $ 35 (more than $ 200) just to covet another brand of water bottles in pastels shortly after. “It’s a waste,” she said. “You are just wasting resources; you are wasting money.”

James Oakley, 19, a college student at Oregon, thinks his age group has reached saturation: “The prevalence and pure amount of microtends made it impossible to understand or participate.”

‘This is disgusting’

We tend to think of trends as a means of demonstrating that we know what is cool and new, or as a way to participate in a greater collective “moment”. For decades, critics have properly pointed out that following trends facilitates a capitalist consumer culture – in mind, sheep! – but can also be experimental, playful, even fun.

Lately, however, trends seem more overwhelming. Recently, I set out to understand which trends were really relevant to the life of Gen Z. But after listening to dozens of young people, a standard emerged: many wanted to talk about not about a specific trend that they found important, but also about their incessant trend and shock they felt when trying to process them so quickly.

The young people I talked to have described an online trend ecosystem that resembles a flooded plain – trends that are at the same time fragile and a genuine source of stress for young people eager to fit in. The insecurity that young people feel when they do not have the “fashion” item is amplified when there is a new “fashion” item every week.

To be clear, not all members of generation Z have been sucked by the whirlwind that awaits them on their phones: many do not care – otherwise they cannot afford to pay attention. “Many people don’t buy from Shein, they don’t have time or money to invest in every microtence that just goes by,” Oakley said.

Following everything is full -time work for Casey Lewis, author of the Z Generation Trend Bulletin “After School”. As a teenager in the interior of Missouri in the late 1990s, Lewis, 37, learned about the popular styles of the moment – low waist skylights, adorned Baby Tees – in adolescent magazines that arrived monthly. Fashion trends, in the macro sense, spinned in 20 -year cycles: the lightest digital ephemeral level today did not exist yet.

Your newsletter, a daily guide for Millennials and their elders who want to know what young people are doing, is full of research of everything that users of social networks and fashion publications are simultaneously declaring to be of the moment. Some of their ironic headlines barely understand to understand: “Quietcations and tweecore”; “Revival Rococo and Cinnamon Softcore”.

A sense of consumer fatigue settled, she said. “Eventually, you are kind of, ‘This is disgusting. Why am I participating in this culture?'” She said. “I think creators and brands are increasingly having to respond to this understanding of young people.”

Accelerators for the trend cycle abound. Tiktok requires news to maintain our attention and has a potent algorithm enough to raise the unknown to the ubiquity in a matter of days. Quick fashion markets are able to produce polyester to meet any online -generated background demand. And the platforms are launching click-to-to-book functions like Tiktok Shop to virtually eliminate friction between seeing something online and having it delivered to the door.

Unsatisfactory experience

This can make it online an unsatisfactory experience: social networks were sold as a playground, but ended up looking like a mall. “Every time I enter Instagram, it’s like something being sold to me,” said Sequoya, a 22 -year -old girl who lives in Salt Lake City.

Ensuring that the wheel continues to spin is the status search element of human nature, argues W. David Marx in his book “Status and Culture”. We want what other people have to fit us, but eventually we abandon these same things as we see them as very affordable to the pasta.

Or, as Lewis put it, “Once a 12 -year -old child is crying for not getting a Stanley, a 17 -year -old won’t want one.”

In fashion, the result is an excess of low quality clothing items that are not usable for long. The average number of times a single piece of clothing is used decreased 36% compared to 15 -year rates before, according to an Ellen MacArthur Foundation and McKinsey & Co. Report. For every five pieces produced, the report added, three end in a landfill or incinerated.

But it’s not just clothes. David Peraza, 21, a college student in Yucatan, Mexico, sees new titles rise to the top of the online game market Steam faster than he can buy. Earlier last year, it seemed that everyone was playing “Helldivers 2,” he said, just to change a few months later to an updated release of “The Legend of Zelda.”

“It’s overwhelming,” he said. Games tend so quickly that their fomo – from losing – grew “exponentially.”

‘Subconsum fashion’

Is it possible that the flood of trends is starting to dry? The Business of Fashion predicted in January that viral microtends were declining, in part due to Tiktok’s uncertain destination, which was about to face a federal ban in January. The application was down and then returned to life, after President Donald Trump signed an executive order that postponed the application of the ban for 75 days.

Hana Tilksw, 19, a college student near Fresno, California, got rid of the app anyway. It was a relief, she said, “I think a permanent ban on Tiktok would definitely help mitigate the incessant pressure we felt to accompany.”

Other Tiktok users have been expressing their tiredness for some time. In a flood of videos last year, some expressed frustration with the purchase-purchase ethos in the application. Others have promoted “subconsum fashion” that encourages users to display their outfit but still fully usable clothes. Even more do they documented their “low -consumption year” attempts in which they promised to reduce shopping.

These well -packaged rejections of the trend draw the attention of Abner Gordan, a 21 -year -old college student in New York City, as ironic. “In a strange way, I think being anti-tendency is very trend,” he said.

While many of his friends still buy clothes or second -hand furniture, he saw the label “subconsum fashion” losing strength online, just like all the previous ones. It was discouraging, he said, to witness what at first seemed a removal from the trend cycle to be absorbed by him.

“It’s like you couldn’t escape,” he said.