RyanYipFashion

[ESSAY] To Be Original

There is a certain level of skepticism regarding my absorption of fashion content, and it largely stems from the fact that many people are not motivated by truth but rather by narratives. How can I spin this information to make a story? How will this benefit the overarching narratives of the publication or my personal brand? It has become apparent to me that many mainstream fashion publications care more about being a fashion overlord, a pioneer, than a reliable source or honest critic. Because of this, many articles I come across are clouded by an almost knee-jerk skepticism, trying to dissect the agenda of the article instead of actually absorbing what the article is covering. I can’t help it, the more I read, the bigger the skepticism becomes. I hope one day I will be able to see enough change in fashion media for this to go away, but for now, this is where my mind stands.


At the basis of fashion as a social concept is this unquenchable thirst to be original, more so in the digital age where everyone can copy anyone, because originality equals free will, equals ‘I am no one else but myself.’ Indeed, some have opted out of this internal battle and instead found a sort of ‘uniform’ that they can rely on, for the rest of us, we are still caught in the middle of it, myself included. More than ever before, we want to be seen, we want to show the world who we are through the movies we watch, the music we listen to, the YouTube channels we choose to subscribe and how to stylistically present ourselves, because these say something about us, they piece together to complete the puzzle that is our personal taste. And social media has corrupted us. The amount of content we consume varies, but it is nothing short of unfathomable, and we’ve become so excessively wired in with what other people are doing, it has become our inevitable fate, and social media is triggering a series of negative emotions within us, forcing us to compare ourselves with what others are glamorously presenting. In short, it makes us feel incompetent and unsatisfied.

Within the fashion realm, this takes away the one thing that is the most precious to all of us: originality. It used to be hard to keep track of what everyone is wearing and creating outside of what you see in your everyday life, all you had to compare with was people around you, and on the off chance celebrities you see on TV or magazine, but I suppose no one would in their right mind try to compare themselves to someone that so blatantly have resources that we do not. In return, it is easier for us to feel original, or at least our sense of self isn’t as threatened. Nowadays, if your algorithm is tuned to the right frequency, you’d find all sorts of people showcasing their outfits, talking about anything fashion (once again, not everyone is subjected to the unhealthy need to standout and the neverending search for new style, but this is indeed the current social phenomenon, it is what drives the current state of social media forward and unfortunately, the fast fashion industry), with this constant hyperexposure, we are setting ourselves up for the inevitable. Elena Esposito, once said: "Nichts ist so verbreitet (und damit so wenig originell) wie der Wunsch nach Originalität.” which translates to “Nothing is as universal (and thus so unoriginal) as the desire to be original." Our desire to be original may not be prominent, but it exists, being original to the world around and being original to ourselves, where we can say proudly that we are not blindly following; we are dressing with purpose. When our emotions are unique, it is only normal that we associate the way we dress ourselves with our individual uniqueness; it is one of the few tools we use to materialize those internal feelings and identity.

Within this sea of very vibrant fashion content, there is the hidden competition of freshness; the algorithm pits everyone against each other, fighting for the spot of virality. However, there are bound to be similarities or even exact copies of outfits and style, and all of a sudden, we are not that special anymore. It seems like any ‘original’ ideas of ours are now compromised. Because of this huge exposure to content, the fundamental essence of fashion, the desire to stand out, is challenged or even stripped. Social media is fracturing our ego and is making us hyperfixate on finding ways to be special again, to reclaim that sense of individuality through other people’s approval of our distinctiveness, and some of us overcompensate.


The term conspicuous consumption is perhaps one of the most well-known jargons within fashion critical studies. “Conspicuous consumption” was coined by Thorstein Veblen to describe the spending of money on luxury goods as a public display of economic power. It is the slightly sinister agenda behind this concept that cemented the importance of this purchasing behaviour in the grand sociological and economic functioning of humans. In contemporary fashion, conspicuous consumption is slowly losing its effect among those who are aware, as we start to learn that money can’t buy style, and we care about style more than what you can afford: a Fendi monogram tracksuit isn’t any more fashionable than a vintage Bullet For My Valentine tour t-shirt and vice versa, it’s how you style it. While it is still in many people’s interest to use what they wear as a signal for wealth, I would argue that those who understand fashion and art, or the simple fact of healthy self-security, will find this act of flaunting wealth jarring. Back when good quality fabrics were hard to come by, it made sense that more money spent would yield admiration. Not the case anymore. Fashion’s main purpose nowadays isn’t as much to display economic power but to communicate, display taste, thoughtfulness, and at times, cultural sophistication. Through silhouettes, color combinations, and sprinkles of personal quirks, everyone hopes to outwardly display a special piece of their identity and personality. With that, the younger generation isn’t too caught up in the idea of spending as a statement, but the poison took the form of an inauthentic performance, displaying that they are capable of coming up with their own styles, free of the cheap and common influences that are social media. The increasing importance of being different or performatively separating ourselves from the undesirable herd mentality is hugely due to our fear of loss of identity in the age of overconsumption. The barrier of entry for any kind of fashion is at an all time low, fast fashion has made sure that we put extra emphasis on the external, quality comes second. When anyone can be anything, having an integral and intact sense of personal style that is once again, motivated and storied, is highly valuable. However, it appears that some have the crippling need to become some form of fashion messiah with their newfound personal sense of style, whether it came from the genuineness to become a fashion leader or attention seeking, many content creators took it upon themselves to instigate the start of many microtrends.

I rewrote this part many times before I decided to redact the word ‘meaningless.’ I suppose not everything needs to be meaningful to have a place in fashion, in art, to exist in the world. But it is indeed hard to ignore how insubstantial these trends are. How did they start? Why do they start? Who is participating in calling it a trend? Once again, these questions only serve to satisfy my subjective view on what’s called a ‘healthy trend,’ they have nothing to do with the intricacies of how trends are formed. It was Blokecore that really caught my attention in early 2022. I found it quite interesting (mildly irritating) because wearing football shirts wasn’t really a fashion statement in Hong Kong, where I’m from. There, every kid grew up with a shirt or two, it is something you throw on as a kid because they are cheap, easily accessible in wet markets, and your parents couldn't care less about ‘fashion.’ Though I absolutely hated the trend name since it is wildly inaccurate (a ‘bloke’ is more often seen in polo shirts and jeans than football shirts), seeing common football shirts turned into an effortless template is weirdly comforting. No matter how much I read about high and low fashion and dig deep into the nuances of the associated sociological factors, sometimes things are simply ‘good looking,’ and it would be unfair for me to deny the power behind that. Blokecore is cool, casual, and it was a massive hit. Matter of fact, it is still and will continue to be a massive ‘trend’ by the time I finish writing this, though how many people would call themselves participating in the Blokecore trend is another conversation. While the internet was still riding high on this trend, many other microtrends, each with their own thesis and commentary, soon followed, ‘clean girl aesthetic,’ ‘weird-girl aesthetic,’ ‘office sirens’ with their librarian glasses inspired by Gisele Bündchen’s character in Devil Wears Prada, Coquette, Old Money, Sambas, ‘mob-wife aesthetic,’ and a lot more popped up like weeds in the span of less than 2 years, as if they are fighting for our attention, begging us to participate. I cannot speak with certainty that Blokecore is the start of this train of microtrend, but that’s when I started to pay close attention to what’s going on around me. The longevity of these trends is, unfortunately, but expectedly short, people’s patience is inversely proportional to the amount of attention the trends gained. Instead of laying off trends altogether, it seems like the way to cope with this is to create another trend, another bubble, to comfortably position themselves as ‘the first,’ the trendsetter, the original. And with each trend eventually cannibalized by big brands, it exacerbated consumers’ relationship with these trends and gave birth to a sizeable hateful crowd, pushing them towards something else in an even more desperate manner. The vicious cycle continues, and this is what I would daringly call ‘conspicuous trendsetting,’ the performative act of becoming a fashion leader through the means of starting new trends, to be the pioneer, to flaunt personal uniqueness and creativity.

And it isn’t limited to the forceful creation trends; as mentioned, it is anything related to the signaling of personal taste and cultural understanding. Hot takes, grail lists, curations, etc. Being opinionated is the strongest and most effective way one can communicate ‘taste,’ because having an opinion usually indicates process of critical thinking (according to this older study titled The Self Concept of Fashion Leader, opinion-lead is the most effective and prominent way to position one self as a leader in fashion), and critical thinking can usually be pawned off as a sign of intelligence and independence. When the cauldron of style influencer launches microtrends through their ‘fitspo’ videos, the internet gets sucked in and becomes divided into a band of people that are pro or against, each group with compelling reasons. As one trend eventually dies down and the next trend arises, the previous short burst of fashion infatuation becomes a sort of myth, something that we look back to and laugh, but fail to serve tangible stylistic or anthropological purposes within the happenings of fashion due to how short-lived, seemingly baseless, and desperate they were.


It isn’t easy to be original, but why do we need to be? Why does being original even matter? Would it be better to be unique than honest? Does it make us feel better knowing that we have done something new instead of doing something that we know is true? I’ve always struggled with this idea. Part of me, as a content creator, is really sensitive to what other people are talking about, and I have an egotistical motivation behind many of my videos, a voice telling me to avoid the mainstream topics. This has fortunately steered me into harmless paths, but just like many people, I wish to stand out, not through being myself, but by artificially searching the ‘new’, the ‘undiscovered.’ The pursuit of originality seems futile, not literally, but spiritually. In fashion, we are confined by many things: societal norms, personal limitations, weather, practicality, social settings, and many more. Within these confines, we try to find a piece of ourselves and match them with the right combination of tops and bottoms. At times, we may find ourselves landing on something that is out of bounds, which scares us, that makes us panic, not because it is abhorrent, but because it is right for us but the world we live in deemed it ‘morally wrong.’ We hesitate to admit that what the society hates is what works best for us: sometimes it is a boy discovering that he likes wearing lipsticks (although much more common now, it is still considered a ‘taboo’ in this still regressive patriarchal world), sometimes it is a girl discovering that she loves wearing suits more than dresses, sometimes it is a celebrity realizing they dislike interacting with fans. There are no mistakes in fashion, only the misalignment between you and the audience (those who pay attention) and the lack of confidence in yourself to display, which arguably seeps through and alters our judgment. Society makes us feel like freaks for doing things we like, but being yourself is the only way to be original. No matter if what you put on is an exact copy of someone else’s, the journey that took you here is what made these stylistic choices original to you. There are many like it, but this outfit is yours, if you even care about being original.


The Internet, however, does not have the patience for any real individuality to be displayed unless performed. I don’t blame it, afterall it is a platform made for superficial purposes, and we all enjoy it. Quick fixes became the popular option, and snobbery bred. On a video I saw on TikTok, the creator wrote “POV: The little dance I make every time I remember that I don’t own a pair of sambas, Timberlands, Northface jacket, silver Wales Bonners, Brazil tee, Anything from Ganni, COS bag or a scrunchie” all while she was dancing in the background. I came across the video a few months prior to starting this essay, it was posted on 2023 December 15th. I absolutely hated it. What’s going on here? It’s quite hard to depict exactly what this video is without physically showing you the video, but it is textbook arrogance. All of the listed items have exploded in popularity in the past two years and have sort of become many people’s go-to. As mentioned, the rise in popularity correlated with the item’s accessibility, economically and stylistically, sometimes both, and these items lowered the resistance in the path of style, in the path of putting together a nice outfit. Naturally and consequently, these items’ popularity turned many people off from wearing them, avoiding them like the plague, scared to be associated with them, which is understandable because why would they want to look like everyone else? But to exert a sense of superiority over those who wear them, making snide remarks, insinuating the fact that the creator ‘knows better than most people’ and therefore did not succumb to general fashion trends, is nothing short of ignorant and the lack of character (something that money can’t buy). It was clear that it wasn’t the comparison of money, Wales Bonners X Adidas sneakers and GANNI’s products can be classed as pricey for many, it was about taste, to show the internet that the creator themselves are more stylistically conscious, that they are smart, crafting a shroud to support their own fashion persona by putting other people down.

This creator isn’t alone on this; many people in the fashion circle thrive on this cultural malice. They need to be better, need to be the first, need to be original, and need to broadcast it. Are these people to blame? Or did we all fall for the algorithm’s gambit?

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