I like my money where I can see it — hanging in my closet. In all honesty, I don’t want material possessions to be a representation of my femininity, but what can I say? I’m a sucker for jewels and Jimmy Choos.
Ever since the 2010s, it feels as though trend cycles have just gotten shorter and shorter. At times, I feel myself gazing shamefully upon my once adored cow print pants and frog hats. How could I ever wear that? Actually, how could ANY OF US ever wear that?
Some will tell you the answer lies in the multi-billion dollar fast fashion industry. They mass-produce cheap yet captivating clothing; They churn out trendy pieces that’ll last you 2 weeks, until, of course, the next trend comes along. According to the Gitnux Market Data Report in 2024, fast fashion contributed to 92 million tons of waste per year. It’s obvious that fashion brands understand this, which is why they’ve begun creating clothing that’s meant to be thrown away in a few weeks.
But there’s really nothing more disappointing than falling for a dress and then realizing that it’s made of 99% polyester. That’s true betrayal.
But why do we really buy so much? For me, it’s the appeal of the perfect life. It’s the appeal of being the woman who wears linen every other day, and walks through Manhattan in status symbol heels, and with a status symbol of a man. It feels as though to embody the expectations of femininity for society, you must represent your identity through a manufactured sense of style that’s quintessentially divine.
“Y’know, I think consumer culture, even since before the 1950’s has targeted women. There’s truly less of an obligation for men to shop,” said my friend, as she sipped on her taro milk tea. As I listened to her, I tried to hide the fact that I spent an unholy amount of money during my shopping spree just thirty minutes ago.
“I don’t feel as rushed to buy things impulsively, because I’m more wary of what’s being advertised to me on social media. I’m more self-aware of my purchases,” she added, as I glanced down at her coach bag. She then urged us to take a walk around Ulta.
“I mean, does buying all that stuff really make you happy?” she asked me.
Now I was having a true crisis of faith. Had I committed the eternal sin of overconsumption? Must I repent by burying away all my earthly possessions? Stay tuned, because whilst I set out to write this article on the problems of the fast fashion industry, I’ve realized the idea of materialism is something much more innate to the human existence than I originally realized.
