Death by Overconsumption
How Social Media Accelerates Fast Fashion
If you too grew up idolizing Anne Hathaway, chances are you’re familiar with the “Cerulean Sweater” monologue Meryl Streep delivers as her character Miranda Priestly in The Devil Wears Prada (2006). When protagonist Andy Sachs giggles at Priestly making editorial decisions for Runway magazine, the editor scolds her for thinking that what she’s mulling over doesn’t apply to her. Priestly stresses that even those like Sachs, who present themselves as uninterested in fashion, are being influenced into purchasing the clothes they do as a result of decisions made by high fashion professionals. The color of Sachs’ cerulean (blue) sweater was decided years prior by luxury designers planning their collections before the trend trickled down to fast fashion brands found in supermalls and secondhand stores.
No one is exempt from influence.
In high school, I was voted most stylish in my senior class. This may be hard for many to believe if they saw the role fashion plays in my life today. I often have to get pushed by the people in my life to get new clothes out of necessity. I don’t follow as many fashion bloggers as I used to and am a notorious outfit repeater. I, in part, blame this on the Internet, a space that has honestly left me utterly dazed, struggling to discern whether what’s in my closet is of any value.
But let’s rewind a bit. How did we get here?
Prior to social media, there were just a handful of fashion figureheads common people could look to for the “in” looks of the upcoming season. Since not everyone can attend fashion week, socialites became trend messengers, being the first to sport clothes fresh off runways so plebians could know how to dress. In the early 2000s, getting on-trend fashion inspiration was as easy as flipping open People magazine and seeing what Kim Kardashian, Britney Spears, and Paris Hilton were wearing.
Nowadays, social media has democratized influence - anyone with a device and stable Internet connection can attempt to gain a following and become the Paris Hilton of our time.
The rise of influencer culture has also led to a greater range of “celebrity.” In the aughts, someone was considered properly famous if they were invited to a televised red carpet event and archived in a tabloid. Now, there are levels to fame. Thanks to virtual egalitarianism and social media algorithms, a popular influencer on one person’s “for you page” could be just about anyone, and may be completely unknown to a TikTok user that sits next to them in homeroom.
Everywhere social media users look online, someone is trying to get their attention. But once they get your attention, what do they do with it? Or more importantly, how do they monetize it?
Since posting photos and videos alone is a difficult activity to make money off of, sponsorships are one of the key ways Internet personalities earn their fortunes. In a selection of their posts, they’ll boast to their thousands of followers about why they can’t live without certain products and services that they’re being paid to talk about. And for “lifestyle” influencers - one of the biggest divisions of influencers catering to women - most sponsorships revolve around fashion and beauty.
The issue isn’t just that Internet users are constantly being asked to purchase things. That’s something they’re used to by now, with the proliferation of highway billboards and television commercials. This particular problem arises with the sheer level of consumption that influencers advocate for.
What many viewers, particularly young ones, likely don’t realize is that many of the clothing items influencers are promoting in their photos and videos were sent to them free of charge from brands sponsoring their content. From sheer storage and personal taste standpoints, influencers are likely not keeping all of the clothes they’re sent.
It’s not typical for a person to wear an entirely different outfit in each Instagram post. Yet that’s exactly what many influencers are displaying in their numerous sponsored posts and what followers are absorbing.
Many of the brands that sponsor influencer posts are also “fast fashion” brands or companies that produce cheap, trendy clothing that attempt to replicate styles by high-end brands, often relying on inexpensive, outsourced labor that puts garment workers in harm's way.
Fast fashion brands are also harmful to the environment, a fact that’s being heightened by the speedy trend cycles promoted by influencers. Clothes that go viral by a specific social media influencer are replicated and overproduced by fast fashion companies until another one of the thousands of influencers’ styles gains the public’s attention. The production team turns to the newest trend, discarding unpurchased products from the previous one. Over and over, like high-speed clockwork.
In pre-Internet days, trends lasted for years. We can even define American decades based on the fashion of those times - bell bottom jeans in the 1970s, bright-colored athleisure of the 1980s, and grunge looks in the 1990s. It’s challenging to even think of the signature styles of the 2010s and now 2020s due, in part, to the speed at which the Internet runs through trend cycles.
Like a treadmill turned up from one to fifty miles per hour in a split second.
Followers are caught in a compromising position. Not only do they find themselves feeling unfashionable because they don’t have the time or resources to purchase as much clothing as the social media influencers they follow possess, but they’re confused. With micro-trends coming in and out as quickly as a couple of months (or even weeks), it’s challenging to discern what is “in” and how it might blend with the clothing that makes them feel most comfortable.
How are people supposed to define a personal style when a million voices across social media are telling them where to throw their cash this week and why they should throw it elsewhere next week? All in different directions.
In the earlier, tamer days of social media influencing, I would plan out outfits in-depth the night before high school, ensuring that even if I had a rough day of classes, I could still feel a level of comfortability and confidence in my skin. Today, when I look around the actual and figurative Internet streets, I’m at a loss. The rapid spiral of fashion trends has left me - and surely others - spinning like a top, struggling to see what is “in style” and what I even like personally.
I’ve seen influencers try to help alleviate the problem by doing sponsorships with sustainable companies and promoting “thrifting.” While a step in the right direction, this strategy often paints overconsumption “green,” often still encouraging viewers to play into trend cycles.
Some influencers are using more productive strategies, encouraging followers to build a “capsule wardrobe” with a smaller number of timeless, staple pieces, rather than snatching up “trendy” items that are bound to quickly end up in the bin. Many are also encouraging creative tactics for forging a signature style, like forming Pinterest boards, looking to classic references, and investing in higher-quality pieces they love rather than lower-quality fast fashion pieces they’re destined to discard. From what I’m currently seeing online, Anastasia Gerrans, Mina Le, and bestdressed are some of the few paving the way for more virtuous fashion influencing.
The biggest and potentially most effective change influencers can make is to help reformulate what it means to be fashionable. Looking stylish shouldn’t be about blindly plucking up any ultra-trendy piece a social media star is being paid to peddle your way. Numbly zombie-walking towards where the trends are not only produces waste but causes folks to lack originality. Falling victim to the influencer-effect to the extreme. Contrary to the popular beliefs that I and thousands of others have told themselves: there is nothing inherently wrong about outfit repeating. If anything, it can help cement a signature look that people recognize you for. A way to peacefully stand out rather than blend in with the chaos.
The way to fix overconsumption is not more consumption. It’s to stop and be smarter about what we’re consuming. Jump off the treadmill.
Everyone could benefit from this read , especially new parents .