The fashion world has fallen hard under millions of handheld microscopes, with judgements and opinions flung left right and center. And we are all left wondering, how the hell did we end up here? With the sudden stagnancy in influencer culture, and as the coquette and clean girl aesthetics slowly fall to the wayside with the e-girl craze, we’re left to yearn for more. The people are looking for more, for integrity and authenticity. A personality that isn’t packaged as a tourist brochure for LA and their own branded paywall. Enter Y2K 2.0.
While the internet constantly rips itself apart, influencer culture acts as its own form of escapism with nostalgia as the poster child. The fashion world has consistently fought to captivate audiences to buy the same bodysuit they’ve sold for the past 6 years. In the wake of the minimalist era of fashion, the rest of the world resurrects the culture of the late 90s and early 2000s. Betsey Johnson unearths our lost childhood memories on Instagram, and TikTok creators such as かとう @katoruna revamp the vibrant looks of Gyaru fashion.
Becoming an adult, or an older adult for my early 90s babes, has opened new horizons for Y2K inspired fashion. Taking what we knew and reformulating it into something more mature and occasionally self aware. Charli XCX is a prime example of using fashion and music as an outsource for nostalgia. Her “brat” album emulates the early 2000s: creating a new club girl soundtrack paired with the grainy ambiance of her “360” music video and the attitude of “Von Dutch” all while causing the resurgence of the baby tee. Iconic. Our hearts are captivated by a self-aware pop diva who isn’t afraid to get messy. Charli took the iconic party girl persona and made it into her own landscape through her sound and visuals. A prime example of taking pop star roots and blowing them up (literally) to create the moment for a thriving brat summer.
Arguably, London Tipton, Sharpay Evans, and Raven-Symoné were at the front lines of influencer culture in the 2000s before it took over the internet. The aesthetic surrounding these icons has been claimed in modern feminism, being unapologetically feminine and powerful. It’s no wonder we look to our early years to become reinspired, it was a time where we could be ourselves without question. When we didn’t have the capacity for shame built into us yet. We’re sick of feeling unworthy if we aren’t built like the Kardashians brand identity that they built. Cry me a river Kylie. We want to feel a sense of freedom amidst the digital world throwing ads in our face.
The people, frankly, are fed the f**k up with modern fashion trends. We see this blatant disregard for assimilation in modern internet culture, and with the rise of the modern trad wife, people are even more intent on breaking the status quo. The internet has developed a childlike audacity, spewing reality checks to boastful parties that were hell bent on pushing controlling lifestyles they made for others to follow. Welcome back
Teen Angst™.
Y2K fashion remains a global influence. In XG’s “Woke Up” music video their fashion is random, unexpected, but intentional. They’ve merged together conflicting styles that break from the idol stereotype, putting a spin on early Korean Street fashion and modern streetwear with their samurai silhouetted wolf outfits and grillz. With Maya rapping directly to haters and bringing a new look to girlboss, Chisa’s Tokyo Drift style sequence, and Jurin’s subverted schoolgirl outfit, these girls divested the typical gaze when looking at female idols through their strong sound and visual style. A message of empowerment, especially when a dedicated Cocona shaved her head mid-music video. The fashion is so captivating because their team took inspiration from multiple sources, acknowledged fashion history, and threw it all in a blender. After manipulating the scraps, they reflect the unapologetic attitude XG has. With their fans as ALPHAZ, it’s no wonder these girls pack a well needed punch to the familiar.
XG’s main rapper Cocona shaving her head in “Woke Up” music video
I want to make one thing abundantly clear: live your truth if a minimalist and traditional lifestyle is what you want. You shouldn’t feel pressure to change who you are. But convey your choice as the only option? The ‘best’ option? You’ve officially lost a chance at a faithful audience. We live in an era of projection, where everyone is being told left and right “You should want to live like me.” The reality is, you aren’t someone else. You were made to be you, and striving to be exactly like someone else limits your capacity for self-expression. The internet won’t hate you for being yourself, or they will. There is no control over others' perceptions, even when you do copy someone, so you might as well do whatever the hell you want. Other people's opinions are none of your business.
It begs the question, why do we need influencers and celebrities to be a framework for personal expression? In short, we don’t. We shouldn’t need to look to others to be ourselves, but we are all reflections of the things we take interest in. I remember walking the halls of elementary school with my cheetah print backpack, simply because I liked it. We’ve become trapped trying to find ourselves in someone else's story, disregarding the nuances of our own identity. Everyone wants attention so we copy what gets it, and the result is a fight against our creative soul for the sake of exposure.
The issue that rising creatives are faced with now is the battle of the modern copy machine. Fashion trends are being pushed by influencers backed by brands and adored by the algorithm, leaving creators wondering if mirroring is the method to the madness. Love it or hate it, time to copy and paste it. When things become a mere copy for the sake of likes, you risk translating the intention. Elizabeth Goodspeed, a graphic designer and writer for Its Nice That, reflected on this ideal in the design world, “Some creatives seem to mistakenly believe that simply emulating the outward appearance of a successful style will grant them the same cultural relevance, visibility or career advancement as others who have found success working in that style.” She continues on in the article about the art of practicing in private.
Prior to the internet existing artists would copy master painters, and fashion designers would copy patterns in order to figure out their personal preferences. They still do. It is a ruthless practice, trying and failing at making something your own after inhabiting the work of others for half of your educational career. I can attest as a graduate of art school. You try, fail, try again, and maybe succeed. But you are judged by a handful of people. As many artists know the feeling of a critique with 7 people picking apart your work, imagining 7 billion doing so will make you never want to practice your passion ever again. This is why it’s crucial to allow ourselves to practice in private, and be okay with people seeing our mistakes in public. It’s that feeling of getting caught by your parents singing Promiscuous by Nelly Furtado at 6 years old. But you move on, get past the embarrassment, and laugh. We have plowed ourselves into an era where we are afraid to make a mistake.
The rise of personalities that are fearless in their acknowledgement of their messy pasts, or even present, brings a fresh and necessary energy. In a space where we hope nobody will catch us when we’re down, people have begun to admit to their faults and embrace their inner audacity. Finding the balance between inspiration and self-expression is key to understanding the self. Iteration is inevitable but perfection is an illusion, and if you can’t practice what you preach when the eyes aren’t on you it’s not worth the risk putting it online. There is always space for you, but remember you’re allowed to shine without the desire to be seen.
BY ZOE SCHOENFELDT @breatheableart
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