Now it is the baby tee and cargo pants. Or the shrunken white T-shirt with wide-leg jeans, slick bun, tiny shoulder bag and trainers that have been aggressively workshopped to look accidental. This outfit would like you to believe it came together in a moment of instinct, that you simply got dressed and happened to emerge as a fully formed aesthetic. Curious, then, how so many other people had the same spontaneous thought. Blindfold yourself and throw a pebble in any direction in Bandra or Hauz Khas, your next five strawberry matchas are on me if you do not hit at least three people wearing versions of the same look. A ten-minute scroll on Instagram will confirm it just as efficiently.
This isn’t the death of personal style so much as its outsourcing. At its core, fashion is driven by the desire to feel unique. People want to look like themselves and not like everyone else because that gives a sense of control and identity. In this day and age, anyone can copy anything instantly (thanks to the internet), and that desire to be individualistic becomes even stronger. The more things start to look the same, the more people want to stand out.
As fashion critic Ryan Yip puts it, “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.”



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