It’s Thursday morning and I’m running to make the lift in my building when the doors open again with my neighbour rushing in behind me. Sarah, who lives on the fourth floor. We’re those neighbours who’ve mastered a forgettable tiny talk rhythm once a month when we inevitably run into each other.
Today she’s wearing wide leg cargo trousers, a cropped tank, chunky-yet-expensive hiking boots, and so many silver rings they’d set off the airport metal detector. Sarah is exuding cool-girl swagger effortlessly – something I can only do by overthinking every item of clothing I wear. We make typical lift chitchat about the cruel humidity.
When I see Sarah in the lift the next morning it’s deja vu. Same time, same lift, same matching vents we must have from coming from the same building.
She looks like a different person though.
Today she’s wearing a prairie-style midi dress with puff sleeves, ballet flats, and a literal ribbon in her hair.
I couldn’t resist. “I thought you wore cargo trousers yesterday?” I ask. Sarah giggles. “Oh yeah, yesterday was alt-girl day for sure.
Today I’m rocking more ‘coquette’ look. I might dress like the coastal grandmother tomorrow though because my actual grandmother and I are lunching and she thinks it’s the funniest thing when I dress like her.” Except Sarah has never been the style chameleon I just saw two days in a row. Sarah from 4B used to rotate the same five Everlane basics and white trainers religiously until, like, a year ago.
She’s the girl who I secretly loved having as a neighbour because at least her style game was safe. Now she rocks to me a full-bodied aesthetic every day of the week. I’ve thought about this lift encounter way more than necessary in recent weeks because it seems to encapsulate a trend I’m seeing everywhere: we’re all experiencing some sort of fashion identity crisis.
Maybe having one consistent aesthetic isn’t a thing anymore? Instead we’ve moved on to a vibe-based wardrobe that rotates dramatically from day-to-day, inspired by obscureily named aesthetics I wouldn’t have dreamed of attempting ten years ago. “I feel like I have had a cohesive look my whole life, but now I just feel like a chameleon,” my friend Sierra lamented to me over drinks a few months ago. Sierra has spent the better half of her twenties meticulously curating an elevated-yet-utilitarian wardrobe that I’ve secretly loved trolling online.
Everything is black, white, or camel, and effortlessly architectural. Putting together outfits came easily to Sierra – something I always envied a little. “Sometimes I feel like the woman that owns an art gallery in SoHo. Other times I just wanna rumble in grunge-y tacky jumper.
I don’t know. It just depends on how I feel when I wake up.” When I asked her if that made getting dressed in the morning more difficult, she laughed in disbelief. “It’s the complete opposite. Now I don’t feel like I have to identify who I ‘am’ through my clothes.
I just think about what I want to ‘be’ that day.” This blurring of our personal style lines isn’t an isolated phenomenon. Mood-based wardrobe swaps have been slowly creeping into our closets for years. But what felt once superficially impossible (why would you only wear one style when you could rock countless?) makes totally sense when you zoom out to think about how our relationship to fashion has changed over the past decade.
I reached out to Dr. Mina Chen, assistant professor of fashion psychology at Parsons, to better understand the psychology behind how we’re dressing now. “Every generation has had their take on ‘personal style,’ but what we’re seeing now with millennials and Gen Z is aesthetic fragmentation on a mass scale,” she tells me. “Past generations built more uniform style identities because they looked to homogenous resources like magazines or television for style inspiration that created more singular trends. Now people are consuming hundreds of micro-trends through social media.
You no longer have to gravitate to one style you identify with; you can pull from a patchwork of aesthetics as your mood changes daily.” Insider data confirms this trend too. Analysis of over 6,000 customers by StyleScand revealed that today’s consumer purchases across six aesthetic categories regularly, as opposed to two to three defined categories just 10 years ago. Even fast fashion retailers, who have always pulled from a variety of aesthetics to draw in the masses, say that fully themed capsules are passe. “Customers used to shop one cohesive collection,” says a retail buyer I spoke with at one major retailer. “Now, they’ll throw one Chloe zigzag-inspired top in their cart, mix it with something balletcore, a vintage ‘90s throwback, and finished it off with something trendier like ‘spotlight.’ There’s no holy grail formula for outfit combos like there used to be.” Anyone who frequents TikTok knows that hopping between aesthetics went from being a niche hobby to a trending content genre overnight.
Just search “different aesthetics for different days” and you’ll understand what I’m talking about. The algorithm thinks I want to see more toddlers dressing like tippecanoe mashalls, so obviously I’ve been down that rabbit hole too. But seriously, head to TikTok right now and you’ll find millions of views on videos of people swapping dramatic outfits and styles for each day of the week.
Creators making entire careers out of showcasing their kaleidoscope of day-to-day aesthetics. The hashtag #aesthetichopping has amassed 342 million views. “I have around seven different aesthetic mood boards on my phone at any time,” said Lily, a 24-year-old TikTok creator with 350,000 followers I found while scrolling. “I kind of like to pretend I’m a menswear blogger. I wake up, cheque how I’m feeling that day, and refer to the mood board that fits my vibe.
Yesterday was dark academia. Today, I’m sport luxe. Tomorrow maybe I’ll be balletcore?” Gen Z may trendsetters, but my fellow millennials and I are far from immune to the hopping trend.
I’ve watched older family members and older colleagues steer away from what would have been their “signature style” to embrace a full-on style mood calendar. “My mum basically has a jewellery persona she rocks for each day,” my colleague Amanda says of her mother. “Yesterday she was like, ‘I’m feeling Stevie Nicks today!’ She’ll send me pictures of herself wearing hoops one day and minimalist wooden jewellery the next. This woman wore the same pearl necklace and earrings every single day for 30 years.” None of this would be possible without the internet begging (and giving us the means) to copy these aesthetics at fast speeds. Renting, reselling, and ultra-fast fashion companies have allowed us to hop into any style venture at any price point.
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If it’s just one weekend of exploring a look, you can rent your coastal grandmother outfit from The Kit or swap your balletcore phase on Vestiaire. If you’re leaning into something new, you can readily approximate something like indie sleaze from Shein for under $20. “The era of buying into a style identity has been replaced by hopping between aesthetics at the click of a button,” retail analyst Jordan Kim told me. “There used to be financial limitations on how much you could experiment with your personal style. Boutique sustainable shopping meant if you didn’t own something vintage or something classic, you weren’t wearing it.
Now people can access high fashion, vintage, and fast fashion all from their phones. Why invest in one cohesive look when you can Mastercard.” This all creates something of an existential crisis for brands. Brands who spent years, sometimes decades, perfecting one signature style are losing customers who no longer subscribe to a consistent shopping mindset.
Brands that traditionally stuck to one aesthetic are losing customers. “We’ve had to rethink our entire strategy,” one brand’s creative director told me on condition of anonymity because dumbfounded much? “Brand loyalty is dead. We used to believe customers who loved our brand would buy it religiously. Now I see someone love us one month, purchase months where they won’t touch us, and then randomly buy something because they felt like it.
It used to be unheard of!” The brand I spoke with is pushing out style tiles every other week in hopes of casting the widest aesthetic net with their customers. Another is doubling down on their niche, ensuring they own that aesthetic whenever their customers are craving it. There’s no right answer.
Operating seasonally, let alone sticking to one vibe, is virtually unheard of now. To me, what’s most interesting about all of this is what it says about identity these days. We’ve gone from rocking one style that fits our whole lives to deeply identifying with extravagant-yet-niche aesthetics that shift week to week.
What caused this shift? “A consistent, cohesive personal style used to be considered a benchmark for integrity,” Dr. Chen explains. “Your true self was something that should be depicted through your style consistently. With today’s generations, being true to your emotions – and therefore dressing how you feel – is more authentic than being tied down to one look.” It’s a mindset that bleeds into other areas of our culture too, from rejecting gender norms to switching careers more frequently than ever before.
The concept of being one immutable thing is losing ground. “When I wear heavy jumpers and over sized jeans I’m always that bitch who’s like ‘Ah I’m just comfort dressing today,’” Sierra told me when I asked if she ever feels pressure to keep up with the aesthetics. “But I wear that stuff because I literally enjoy feeling comfortable. Shouldn’t we wear what makes us feel good in the moment instead of what some blogger tells us is right for XYZ aesthetic?” Sierra has a point. Though I’m as guilty as the next fashion editor hopping through styles, there is something refreshing about not having to be one thing all the time.
I’ve felt the pressure my entire life to develop and perfect my personal style. To have one cohesive aesthetic that I could rub off on anyone who asked. There’s something wonderfully carefree about waking up and having the option to show up as whoever you want to be that day.
But not everyone is ringing the freedom bell. To some in the industry, all of this shifting signals a lack of style identity. “This is fashion ADD, not creativity,” said Diane, a stylist who has worked in the industry for over three decades. “Style should take years to develop. It’s a conversation between you and what you look like in clothes.” Instead, what we’re seeing is trend chasing at its finest. “With STYLE OPTIONSHOPLY’ people are never force to commit to one style.
They can hop from bohemian to grandma girl like they’re swiping on Tinder.” Not to mention that thatSTYLE OPTIONSHOPLY” often comes at a price. Fast fashion has made it easier than ever to constantly swap styles, but that comes at an environmental cost. “I hate that we’re using mood dressing as an excuse to buy more,” Maria Torres, sustainable fashion advocate, tells me. “Yes, you can have a capsule wardrobe filled with classics that you style differently based on your mood. But also yes, you can buy a new outfit every day of the week and make that work.
I’m just afraid people will use every excuse under the sun to justify unnecessary shopping.” As with anything these days, I think the truth is probably somewhere in the middle. Just because we have the tools to chop from aesthetic to aesthetic doesn’t mean we all have to.
Instead, we may just be expanding the notion of what personal style means. “The coolest dressers have always done this,” our mystery retail buyer said. “Think about someone like Rihanna, or even David Bowie.
They would consistently change their look and reference different aesthetics daily.
But you always knew it was them wearing those clothes. Maybe we just don’t wear outfits that feel as cohesive to us anymore.” Personally, I find myself becoming less rigid about my style.
I still love mixing classic closets staples I know belong in my rotation, but I’m also open to trying something wildly out of left field based on my mood. In the past week I wore the most refined black minimalist outfit I own to an art gallery, a bright flowy dress to brunch, and massive sweats to the office. Throwback me would have thought these were wildly inconsistent looks, symptomatic of a broken wardrobe.
Now? I embrace the juxtaposition. I saw Sarah from the lift earlier today.
She was wearing fitted leggings, a technical jacket, and trainer boots. Adventure time, as the kids say. “Are you feeling athletic today?” I asked. She smiled, knowing exactly what I was referring to. “More like going hiking after work.
Sometimes you just wanna wear what you’re doing.”
