Even though I love wearing clothing, I’ve always felt that I’ve been so removed from Menswear Discourse and the Fashion Conversation overall. It is only through the SaD Discord or my Tiktok FYP that I’m able to see what’s going on in the real world; I’m much too concerned with the length of my pants it seems. But sometimes there are a few things that bring me out of my bubble and compel me to share my dumbass thoughts on it.
This happened over the last few months of 2024 when I noticed a trending topic: the Death of Personal Style. This was so funny to me. How could something rooted in something human and individualistic go the way of the dodo? But despite the clickbait title, there were numerous articles, Tiktoks, and Youtube videos all dedicated to the fact that Personal Style was indeed gone, with a healthy dose of dread and anxiety for the future of fashion. The conversation seemed to culminate with a great video by Mina Le, which really added a personal touch to the discourse, juxtaposing her life as an influencer/creative with the general movements of the fashion industry, the media/publications/influencers, and obviously its consumers.
The Mortis they speak of is centered around two things. The first thing is that everything looks and feels the same. Despite being based on seemingly specific cores and grail lists (trending items), there is a repeatable and empty vibe that has been felt throughout the culture. Fashion and expression simply looks flat and contrived when it should be an avenue for a myriad of expressions. The other component is that people still participate and perpetuate in the malaise, all in service of the algorithm rather than something rooted or tangible to their lives thus making it empty and Not Personal at all. Banal advice and arbitrary trends are shared ad nauseam, as it seems to be the only way to participate in this hobby. People need to keep up in order to find success..or at least maintain their standing. In other words, trends, algorithms, and influencers are to blame for the Death of Personal Style. And for brands, influencers, publications, and aspirationally-savvy consumers vying for the expressive power of clothing, this is a scary thought.
If this sounds pretty chronically online, that’s because it is. All of this discourse is about how fashion enthusiasts interact on the internet; there are still plenty of people who wear fits that aren’t posted on the internet. But that doesn’t mean this discourse isn’t important.
The internet is where culture lives now, or at least a big part of it. It’s where brands sell their wares and share their editorial content. It’s where journalistic coverage and cultural critiques/discussion are posted. It’s where anyone, be they influencers or general enthusiasts, post their outfits, hauls, and their lives. And most importantly, the internet is an easily accessible place to consume all of the above. This means people’s exposure to knowledge and how they form their opinions and taste in regards to fashion and culture is heavily affected by what is posted (or discussed) online.
For the record, I do not think Personal Style is dead. It is alive in a lot of people, even those who exist on the internet. As I’ve said before, Personal Style can certainly be bolstered by the internet, but it still has to be built in something real and tangible. It is rooted in an Authentic spirit, where your idea of Cool is based on your emotional connection to the item itself, rather than its social currency. In this way, it doesn’t matter if what you like to wear is ubiquitous or niche– it is entirely about your Personal relationship to your clothes.
I could end the discussion here but I feel the need to go on. I can’t help myself! After all, I am someone who likes to be online and post, so I can’t ignore the effect of this medium, as silly as it may be. If anything, this Cultural Malaise reveals so much about how the world (the internet) approaches clothing and how it is shallow, anxious, and based on late-stage capitalism and a dogged pursuit of Status and its benefits. Combating those ideals and encouraging a more self aware/critical approach to clothing is one of the major reasons why I’ve continued writing after a decade of writing.
And so I did a long podcast episode with Spencer and MJ on this very topic, where we discuss the various articles, videos, and talking points about the Death of Personal Style. But of course, that wasn’t enough. I ended up writing the following essay in order to get a little deeper on some of the major themes that I believe are behind the Cultural Malaise and cynicism around the state of fashion. Take my words with a grain of salt; like every blog post before it, this isn’t meant to be journalistic. These are simply my opinions full of bias and my own experience that you are free to disagree and find fault in!
I suggest that you listen to the podcast first before reading my words. But you do you!
- Topic Intro – 2:53
- Why is Personal Style Dead? – 5:45
- The LOOK of Personal Style – 25:44
- Just Liking Things- 30:14
- Abandoning Looks – 41:02
- Fashion Fatigue – 44:50
- People Want to Feel Cool – 54:29
- What Makes Personal Style Personal? – 1:04:29
- Wrap-up – 1:25:58
The Algorithm Of It All
As I said in the introduction, many fashion creators and critics blame the internet, or in particular, the algorithm, for the ubiquity and subsequent malaise in personal style. I have to agree with them because social media’s emphasis on high-performing content has forever changed how we approach fashion.
To be clear, social media has always played a big part in fashion and culture. The internet made it possible to see things you wouldn’t normally get to see, whether it was due to distance or simply because a traditional avenue would deem the content as niche. Thanks to the internet you could learn about a subculture and the idiosyncrasies that characterize their look, whether it was a big trend or not. But this is the major point—this internet (at least in my experience) was about access to information rather than engagement. You would follow the accounts you like and view their curated posts (or re-posts) whether or not they did well. The only filter for the feed was that it was chronological, making it like you were simply following a stream of consciousness that you curated for yourself. But the algorithm changed that.
Social media’s introduction and subsequent focus on the algorithm made it so that your feed was no longer just about who you follow, but also whether or not the posts were engaging. If they didn’t get a good response or enough engagement, you wouldn’t see it naturally. On a positive note, this means that anyone can get that exposure, seemingly leveling the playing field to fame and fortune…provided that you play the game. And so with social media playing into people’s jobs, side hustles, and overall desire for status, the algorithm becomes almost mandatory to follow if you are planning on achieving any sort of success. Even if you don’t plan on making money directly through eyeballs and sponsorships, it’s still a necessary practice for any gig-driven profession (artists, musicians, actors, makers, etc).
I feel that we’re at a stage where this is simply how you participate on the internet in general; it’s not just about posting but about posting content that does well. And in regards to Personal Style, it moved away from being about self-discovery and curation to simply taking what the algorithm shows you.
This results in content simply needing to be easily digestible, shareable, and expressible by everyone: brands, publications, content creators and general enthusiasts (who usually end up being temporarily embarrassed influencers thanks to affiliate links, sponsorships, and creator funds). Historically the thematic context behind the style cues would need to also be present, such as grunge or indie sleaze being present in music and clothing at their cultural height, creating a bit more of a cultural connection. But thanks to the algorithm, all that matters is engagement which reduces cultural movements to being expressed simply as easily actionable “cores” and “grails”.
Charlie Squire of Evil Female describes it best. “The embrace of niche aesthetics has been framed by some as liberatory: no longer is there a singular mainstream trend; consumers may now select from an ever-growing list of curated styles that come neatly packaged in Pinterest boards with self-mandated diversity quotas and search-term keywords. According to these voices, niche aesthetics allow people to find their personal style[…] The algorithm then promotes content that synthesizes the most trend-friendly images, ideas, and products. In this way, contemporary social media does not reinforce niche identity groupings but actively creates them, selecting the exact products and commodities that can be grouped together to target and captivate specific markets.”
It might seem like this would only bolster subculture, but it really does the opposite. The algorithm simply muddles everything together, turning “Personal Style” into a cloudy malaise. In a weird but understandable way, it feels that the things that the algorithm promotes are both specific, as to separate the piece/trend from previous ones (and to help you feel special for participating), and vague so that anyone could buy the look outright and remain firmly within the zeitgeist. So while the Our Legacy Camion boot may be different than the Hoka Speed Loafer, they really feel like the “samey” because the attitude and cultural movement behind the wearer is the same. In other words, the “Personal Style” of this era is about hype, cores, and generally trying to keep up with the zeitgeist (algorithm).
To be clear, using codifying style trends into cores and wanting to buy into them is not new. Social media has always played a big role in sharing information rapidly when compared to pre-internet society. But the difference here is the algorithm, its focus on performance/monetization, and the simultaneous qualities of exponential speed and ubiquity that come with it. Thanks to the algorithm (and fast fashion), trends are seen and executed (bought into) easily all around the world, with each new participant and their subsequent content feeding into the self-perpetuating nature of the algorithm. With this mass adoption of fleeting and fickle things, it’s quite ironic that all of this is done in the name of (and seems to represent someone who has) “Personal Style”.
Whether you’re a brand, content creator, publication, or consumer, every trend, grail, and core becomes something new to do. After all, you’re in competition with everyone around the world! So in order to maintain your spot on the monetization and algorithmic pyramid, you need be noteworthy, either by becoming the progenitor of a movement (by codifying a core or creating a viral piece) or be considered the poster boy of it. And since anything can be pushed into popularity, there is a need to do everything to stay on top…or at least maintain your position.
So people move from core to core, grail to grail, with many people on the same wavelength all thanks to the algorithm. It shows that prowess at fashion isn’t really about Personal Style at all but about your adeptness in participating in popular movements. Perhaps the “personal” misnomer comes from the fact that the style-idea came from the algorithm rather than the words of a specific person or publication..despite the fact that the algorithm is simply a conglomerate of all of it.
On that note, even the practice of not doing a trend is turned into something algorithm-friendly. It’s packaged as “de-influencing” or doing a uniform/minimalism, turning a mindset into a core with its own styling cues and overall aesthetic/look. It is so funny to me that an arguably positive anti-consumerist message is still reduced into monetizable (or at least viral) content to be considered worthwhile, making it dubious just how lasting this movement can be.
But as I continue writing, it’s clear to me that the algorithm is only the vehicle for how capricious our approach to Personal Style can be. The algorithm doesn’t exist in a vacuum; its promotion of digestible and engaging content is rooted in something that people are latching on to, something conspicuous and yet general enough that every fashion mfer around the world can express in their outfits, recent cops, and their reposts.
It’s easy to think that the myriad of cores means that consumers don’t know who they are and use the cores as a replacement for identity. But I think the opposite is true. I think that everyone knows exactly who they want to be: all of it. All of the cores. They want to express a bicoastal life full of creativity and specialized taste. The cultural omnivore that mixes high low, that has both the ratty workwear, the curated vintage, and the designer garments. They want to be Cool. Or at least a specific version of Cool that is discerning and yet easily understood around the world.
Everyone Wants To Be A Cool Cosmopolitan Creative…Or At Least Look Like One
The dogged and desperate pursuit of a type of Cool is the real culprit for the flattening of Personal Style.
This type of “cool person” that everyone seems to want to be (or at least look like) is quite clear, at least to me. They want to be one of those people who seem to live in an exciting and chaotic environment with so many Occasions to choose from: dinner parties, shows, brand activations, flea markets, and museums to name a few. They seemingly have a bicoastal or well-traveled lifestyle, showing that they can achieve these things from anywhere. Culture is consumed in the same omnivorous way, through movies/TV, books, and fashion that are niche and popular, vintage and new. Nothing is truly off-limits for this person.
It’s not passive consumption either; This person seemingly knows all about (and keeps up with) their favorite designers, actors, and writers. They may even take care to do those same things (sing, act, dance, write), giving back to the culture and world that has enriched them. This leisure or at least freedom can imply wealth or a high income, though don’t get it twisted; they are not just some corporate drone or a do-nothing-rich heir. They are different and cool because they own and wear things that express their taste and experience. In short, they want to be a Cosmopolitan Creative.
Cosmopolitan Creatives are indeed cool; being one is a way to embrace culture as well as potentially “give back” by creating things yourself, distilled from your own perspective. It makes sense why you would want to be one, especially if you want to be considered as more than just your day job (as has been the case for social status for years). Who doesn’t want to be one-dimensional? In that way, striving to be a Cosmopolitan Creative is a positive thing. But that doesn’t seem to be the case anymore.
With social media’s embrace of hustle culture and becoming more and more of a social resume, it turns this nice thing into quite a prerogative. People need to be a Cosmopolitan Creative to be considered cool and for their posts to perform well in their circles, to their aspirational network, and yes, the Algorithm. After all, the internet shrinks your world, putting you in contact (or rather, cultural competition) with everyone. This should create an explosion of various styles but in the end, it seems to have manifested a common attitude and a codified means of expression. It’s just funny that everyone seems to be on the same wavelength in regard to what these garments and styles all signal, leading to it being a shortcut to being that particular person. It’s not unlike how the tech and finance bro had their own effect on men’s fashion for quite a while.
And so Personal Style, or at least the current expression of it, becomes flattened, becoming more about conspicuous consumption in an incredibly specific and yet vague and accessible approach, all mutually agreed upon by seemingly every fashion enthusiast and tastemaker. Other modes exist, but why go for them when you can pick the moves that are codified and easily understood?
For example, you want to show that you’re a grown-up and not just a sneakerhead but your attitude isn’t that serious, so you have a footwear collection of loafers and sneakers (or both combined). A dedication to heritage and quality clothing could be expressed in vintage or artisan clothing. Being (or implying that you are) an active enthusiast of art and culture leads to building a collection of designer clothing, be it new or archive; collabs could fall into this bucket too. After all, wouldn’t a discerning Cosmopolitan shop the SSENSE sale just as much as their local flea market? A big silhouette shows that you are above the slim fit trend that plagued a cheugy-era internet; it also shows that you have an appreciation for the past (movies, artists) as well as the current day (movies, artists). A healthy dose of utilitarian clothing be it Carhartt double knees or a military jacket shows that you can be grounded and a little bit subversive.
There is a curation of varying levels involved at all points, but what ultimately matters is if it communicates that you’re “Cool”. And it’s all under the guise of “Personal Style”.
These are simply examples of the semiotics of clothing which admittedly have been around in various iterations throughout history. After all, leveraging visual communication through clothing and referencing character quirks is the basis of style. Figuring out how to accomplish a prompt or express the “right” thing is what makes wearing clothes fun and interesting. But again, this was historically built from the context of the subculture or learned/tangible experience. Even the early to mid-internet age required a semblance of time and effort to sort through the information and find the proper way to express it. But this is no longer the case.
The current internet made it so that context is no longer necessary to be considered a type of person– simply wearing certain garments or combinations is enough. While expression can be done in a myriad of ways, there seems to be a consensus (based on memes, journalistic coverage, and real people) that codification and optimization exist. And of course, this is all seemingly done in pursuit of “Cool” rather than the clothes themselves, making it all rather flat and expected. Granted, there are nuances between specific stylings, but whether you are Bookcore, Nobu Style, or Dirtbag Ivy, the theme is the same: you want to be (or come off as) a cool, multifaceted creative. You just need to keep doing it until you hit it big. If it doesn’t work, then you’ll move on to the next thing and try again. In other words, Personal Style, or at least this current expression of it, is a trend.
In her article “If the personal brand is ‘dead,’ what happens to personal style?”, Annie Brown of Vogue Australia shares a pertinent quote from José Criales-Unzueta “The marketable cross-pollination of fashion with other industries, such as entertainment and technology, have helped turn this once-underground subculture into a spectator sport with fanaticism rivaling that of actual sports or pop music.”
The keyword here is “marketable”, which applies not just to brands but to consumers and participants. There are obviously a lot of social benefits to being considered a Cool Cosmopolitan Creative (aka just Cool in general). This obsession with Cool within the warzone that is the internet has turned fashion into a blood sport, bolstered by the internet’s ability to provide its inhabitants with a seemingly democratic avenue to fame and fortune, or at least status points (both online and IRL) as well as a bit of cash (side hustle). It makes it feel like a waste to not be a Cosmopolitan Creative.
Even if you’re not quite there, don’t fret– your clothes can imply that they are simply a stone’s throw away from hitting it big on the Algorithm (or that you’re already Cool). A shortcut is naturally needed. And what better method is there than having a “Personal Style” that lets you dress the part, whether or not you have the actual experience. The thing is that everyone plays along, gratifying your efforts, perpetuating the relationship-without-context that you get from wearing such clothes and styles.
This is aptly summarized in Hannah Schmidt-Reese’s essay “The End of Personal Style”. In it, she says that “[it] feels like everyone is dressing just to be seen, not to feel something. Not to feel confident or unique or reflect who you are through clothing, just to be seen a certain way. To show that we’re wearing the latest thing, regardless if it reflects our personal style or not. And, because we’re wearing the latest thing, we get that instant validation from others. Rinse and repeat.”
It’s not just consumers who have adopted and perpetuated this desire for “cool”. Brands themselves have leveraged this codification and show it through their styling. As Michael B. Dougherty shared in his substack, ALD serves as a bit of a progenitor for this phenomenon, thanks to its irreverent mix of all things menswear. But this isn’t just about their product design or how they style their models– it’s also about the models themselves.
ALD’s editorials frequently feature fashion and culture insiders; authors, photographers, musicians, and even other brand shopkeepers and designers all make their way onto the ALD stage, connecting their look with the status of the models. What started out as a fun way to showcase figures behind the scenes of culture became a way to codify the general uniform of cultural omnivores and mover-and-shakers. It’s no surprise that so many brands have followed suit, altering product designs and editorial styling to better serve the internet’s obsession to look like a Cool Cosmopolitan Creative.
Even trad menswear have been affected: you can find tailors in merch and vintage duds to help showcase omnivorous, multi-dimensional taste. Even J. Press, who doesn’t really change their product designs, regularly feature menswear insiders in their editorials, showing their offerings also contribute to the look of cultural tastemakers of the world (though I’m happy to say that the styling itself remains trad).
Editorials and product listings alike are all in service of this “Person”. In what seems to be the first time in a long time (no doubt due to the internet and fast fashion), brands are finally right where the zeitgeist is. After all, brands need to play into the engagement-driven Algorithm to gather sales, which contributes to the flattened expressive plane. It doesn’t matter if it’s a hip metropolitan boutique, a mall brand, or a drop-shipped Tiktok shop– no matter where you go, everything looks the same and purports to give you the same cultural effect (YMMV). Weirdly, we’re right back to the Golden Era where anyone could walk out of a store in a stylish outfit. We had a brief moment where all the “good stuff” was hidden under IYKYK but now we’re back to the culturally accepted “Cool” look and the ubiquity of its components no matter where you look. Maybe all of this talk about the “Death of Personal” Style is just the industry and its influencers being upset with the dilution and ubiquity that they started.
While the blame for this cultural malaise doesn’t solely rest on ALD, it’s no surprise that the success of its aesthetic and editorial approach only furthered the use of clothing as a cultural shortcut to expressing personality (and cultural status) without actually having the experience behind it. This phenomenon is aptly described by Deeze Links: “It purports to represent all the right things—good taste, downtown cool, an aspirational lifestyle—but if you look under the cortado lid, you’ll find it’s mostly empty. You’re just an uppity city boy with a large vinyl collection and pictures of sourdough on the grid.” But being empty doesn’t really matter. What does matter is that you look Cool. Because if the public’s mutually understood mood through the ubiquity of outfits, played-straight tropes, and documentation through memes and starter packs is anything to go by, it’s that Dressing Cool = Personal Style = You are Cool.
But to me, this obsession with “Cool” is exactly what makes the codified look of “Personal Style” not really Personal at all. If anything, it makes it a fickle, with a garment or style cue’s worth only measured in its Cultural Currency rather than the merit of its design. This is literally explained by Blackbird Spyplane, a very Cool Cultural Commentator (dare I say, a Cosmopolitan Creative) when he writes that “wack people can ruin the things you love”, as such people move garments from its cult or classic status into the “unswaggy valley”.
The whole thing reeks of Hypebeast culture, a form of consumption that embodies the idea of assigning Cultural Value to everything and constantly evaluates it. This approach has taken over Fashion and Personal Style; it may have even killed it with its mercurial obsession with Cool.
Personal Style Lies In Authentic Appreciation, Not Social Cachet
If Personal Style is to live on, it must be rooted in Authenticity. To me, this means an appreciation of garments and style cues on their own merit rather than a pragmatic pursuit of gaining Cultural Currency. Don’t misunderstand, I am not saying that we should be blind to fashion history or the expressive connotations that come with clothing. I am simply saying that we shouldn’t base our clothing choices in terms of what the zeitgeist is promoting, at least to a heavy amount. True Personal Style should primarily come from within, with the priority of our clothes being the expression of our own experiences and taste; social benefits (if we even get any) are simply a bonus and shouldn’t be prioritized.
I know that is easier said than done. Who doesn’t want to be (or be seen as) “Cool”, especially when the secret sauce or blueprint is right there? The desire is totally human and makes sense! But that’s where I invite you to be a true Cosmopolitan, to make the cosplay real and authentic. In other words, I believe that Fashion mfers and enthusiasts should do the work and strive to gain knowledge and experience if only to make the cultural signifiers of their clothing rooted in their own life. As you build up Strong Taste, you’ll be able to navigate the zeitgeist with ease, being able to evaluate how a garment or style cue’s details match up to what you have established.
A lot of fashion personalities and critics seem to think that the answer to Personal Style comes in dressing basic and outfit repeating. Resting trends and relying on “timeless” staples is the way to overcome the malaise. But like I said before, this has still resulted in a commodified look (or mindset) that comes with its own social cachet. I’m sure once this “look” re-codifies Personal Style (like how workwear had a moment after hypebeasts), the pendulum will swing back to some form of maximalism (or at least the having a bunch of items that express your personality). No, the solution is not to simply be minimalist. The answer lies in your own Personal Journey to figure out and stick to what you enjoy, regardless of the social mood.
In that way, there isn’t one correct path, just the path that makes sense for you. You could be an omnivore with extensive taste or someone who relishes in the niche and simply prefers a honed expression. Your outfits may involve maximalist practices, incorporating multiple references and colors through your garments and accessories. For some, minimalism is more of your call, with an emphasis on the emotional power of silhouette rather than specific accouterments. Hell, it may incorporate both..and it should!
Chloe Chou’s article leverages a great Rachel Tanjishan quote, “Maybe if we focused on developing our own sense of style, we’d worry less about what’s popping up on our feeds and think more about what we like and what makes us feel good. There needs to be a shift in attitude. After all, good style is all about attitude.”
Put simply, clothing and outfit combinations are a form of merch— they’re just a way for us to showcase our enjoyment of specific designs as well as where they came from. [Merch is also good for Personal Style and we enjoy wearing it when we want a straightforward way to say who we are/what we like].
This has been the primary approach my friends and I have had for a long time. Berets, big pants, and long collars have a history, are found in the things we watch, and even have had their own moment in the algorithm (or at least our own subculture). But adopting their social history isn’t the only reason why we like them; we also find their physical geometries interesting and applicable to our existing style. We like the drape and slouch of a big pant or coat, the subtle curve of a spearpoint, and the tailoring-esque proportions of vintage milsurp (which helps us wear it with sportcoats). I wear fair isle patterns and cable knit sweaters because they are inherently good as well as being rooted in my base style. Sweater vests are great on their own, not simply because “eclectic grandpa” is the latest core to tap into. But I also can’t deny the cultural semiotics of clothing.
We aren’t jazz musicians, 1960s movie directors, or avant-garde artists, but we still have a kinship with those things. After all, we absurdly channel them in the small things we do every day, whether it is noodling at the piano, painting weird shapes, or taking some fun photos. There’s something fun and earnest in dressing like the things we enjoy! We aim to be connected to our creative hobbies and interests, making them feel a little bit more real. It’s certainly more interesting to us than wearing a core that the algorithm tells us is popular or Cool. Cosplay for cosplay’s sake is fun and is certainly a great way to learn the semiotics of clothing, but it only works to a certain point. We should always strive to be more than that! It should be about a deep appreciation and enjoyment of things in our lives! The “core” we’re after should be ourselves.
My point is that we should strive to become connected to our clothes. Whatever we choose to wear is deeply rooted in the culture we consume, our love of details, and our endless pursuit of expression. Being introspective results in an emotional connection we have to specific details, silhouettes, and combinations. This can be both things inherent to our roots or new forms of expression Just think about how we do Rugged Ivy, the 70s, or even Safincore; it all works for things endemic to our root expression (vintage tailoring) and those that are a bit of an experiment (but still feel close to our periphery). Whatever the case, social cachet comes later, if it even comes at all. But that won’t stop us from wearing it. Whether it’s popular/cool or not, we’ll wear it because we like it! After all, we don’t mind Standing Out, even among decidedly fashion circles.
Personal Style is an activity for each of us to encapsulate the eclectic nature of humanity. We contain multitudes and it is up to us to figure out the best way to show it. None of it should be exhausting but invigorating, with each day leading us to better understand and hone our approach to expression. The entire point is that you should learn more about your taste, how you discern details, and ultimately what you personally think is Cool outside of the cultural zeitgeist. We must aim to keep our taste rooted in the lives we lead and prevent it from being so shallowly held.
It’s quite similar to my love of John Williams. I do not listen to his music because of the popularity of the films he’s scored. That’s only how I discovered him and built up my library. No, in the end, my obsession with Williams comes from a deep appreciation of his compositional style. The scenes have nothing to do with it; it is purely about the music. It’s why so many of my favorite pieces are what he’s composed for the concert hall rather than the movies, partly done to remove that social cachet from my taste. And if you listen to some of the other composers I enjoy, you’ll see that there is a common sound or approach that I seem to enjoy. It is not better than any other style of composing, but *I* think it’s cool. As a result, references to that “sound” show up in my own compositions, done purely to satisfy my interest.
This whole thing may seem overly intellectual and critical but that is entirely the point. We should aspire to be what Aaron Copland calls a “Gifted Listener”: “[someone who] lacks preconceptions and prejudices but who still has a sense of innocence and intuition. When they listen to music, they get both the “event” and the idealization of the “event”, being inside as well as distant. It’s about pleasure and understanding, to have some insight into the nuances of expression, such as delicate joy vs. troubled joy”. The only difference is that with fashion, we don’t have to just consume culture— we can express it!
The fact that expression comes from how we consume and engage with culture is all the more reason to avoid being passive about it. It just doesn’t make sense for your taste to be dependent on the algorithm or have an understanding of clothing expression based on reductive cores or grail lists. Don’t get me wrong, I do think that cores are a great way to understand that fashion is full of meaning, but that is just the starting point. There is nuance to be found and it should be exciting to dive deep and find the method that makes sense for you. What matters is that your journey feels natural and satisfies your own curiosity instead of being primarily rooted in a pragmatic pursuit of Status. It’s not that we can’t use shortcuts from time to time (wearing flares are certainly read as Cool), but it’s that we should aim to make it Personal.
Perhaps I am “privileged” to write about this topic. My style and the specific garments I wear are also hardly what would be coveted or even replicated by the zeitgeist or those who are considered Cool. Almost everything I wear is largely inoffensive and safe, being built on things that have existed for years. While I enjoy my clothes and style wholeheartedly, I am still painfully aware that the mainstream will read them as [hopefully delightfully] “fuddy-duddy” than Cool, at least on the days I don’t lean into the Going Out Look.
Despite being a part of a semi-niche subculture, my IRL social circles and immediate environment prevent me from getting caught up in parasocial internet relationships. And even though I do my best to be a Creative Cosmopolitan in my own little way, I don’t hold a candle to the bohemians and cultural omnivores who move and shake around LA, NYC, and around the globe and who are featured in countless publications. In other words, I am quite distant from the pursuit and effects of the zeitgeist. This allows me to delve even deeper into my taste, free to make decisions from social currency and to ultimately “dress like myself”. I think more people should take that route!
To be clear, the oft-repeated advice that you should “dress like yourself” isn’t a bad thing. It is meant to be a vague question that we spend our lives trying to answer. It may involve the mainstream. It may incorporate the niche. What makes it Personal, Authentic, and Cool is the fact that we enjoy it. It should not be shallow but the opposite. Our taste should be firmly held, growing with us until it gains a patina that shows a long, storied history of expression. Being able to show this on our bodies is what makes clothing so fun and powerful. It is in pure enjoyment that Personal Style exists. Anyone can do it!
Long live Personal Style!
Recommended Reading
- Personal Style Is Dead And The Algorithm Killed It – Evil Female
- The End of Personal Style – Per Spex
- Will Core Trends be the Death of Personal Style? – Whering
- How Instagram Ruined Personal Style – GQ
- Is personal style dead? – The Nod Mag
- How Celebrity Obsession killed Personal Style… – Nicky Reardon
- What If My Personal Style Isn’t So Personal? – The Cut
- The Death of Personal Style – Who What Wear
- If the personal brand is ‘dead,’ what happens to personal style? – Vogue Australia
- The Eclectic Grandpa Trend Encapsulates Our Personal Style Dilemma
- The ALD Aesthetic – Michael B. Dougherty
- Why Does Menswear All Look the Same? – The Business Of Fashion
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Ethan M. Wong (follow me on IG)
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