Five ways to find your personal style outside of trends and algorithms

Fashion is currently trapped in a hyper-accelerated trend loop. Every week there’s a new “core” or “maxxing” style to contend with – such as balletcore or whimsymaxxing. They zoom in and out of our cultural consciousness with alarming speed. These fads are so numerous that we can be confounded with choice, so oddly specific that we need a new wardrobe to be part of them, and so rapid that there is rarely time to understand or assimilate our own style preferences. In 1937 the author, critic and art historian James Laver developed Laver’s law, charting how clothing styles evolve in public perception over a 160-year cycle. He asserted that clothing was seen as “charming” after 70 years, but “ridiculous” after just 20. Yet today, 1990s and Y2K fashion dominate consumer trends. At first glance, this speed-run of recent history appears to clash with the weekly conveyor belt of TikTok micro-trends. In reality, they are two sides of the same algorithmic phenomenon. The Y2K fashion aesthetic is very popular at the moment. Ella Laughmiller/Dupe Rather than cycling through distinct eras sequentially as Laver predicted, social media feeds flatten time entirely. Decades of vintage subcultures and instant micro-aesthetics are collapsed into the same endless scroll, allowing a 1990s minimalist silhouette to coexist alongside a week-old “whimsymaxxing” viral trend. Having lived through both the 1990s and Y2K style moments the first time around, it is clear they are also defying Laver’s timeline – they remain far from “ridiculous” to younger generations. No one’s 20s and 30s look the same. You might be saving for a mortgage or just struggling to pay rent. You could be swiping dating apps, or trying to understand childcare. No matter your current challenges, our Quarter Life series has articles to share in the group chat, or just to remind you that you’re not alone. Read more from Quarter Life: Social media hasn’t killed personal style, it’s killed how we communicate it A brief history of embroidery – and how to get started yourself Indie sleaze: a brief fashion history, from messy rebellion to mainstream revival In Fashion: A Philosophy (2004), the Norwegian philosopher Lars Svendsen described how the “traditional replacement logic of fashion […] has itself been replaced by a logic of supplementation”. Rather than a style coming in and going out of vogue, we now continuously accumulate more styles – produced and consumed faster than ever before. This shift is driven not only by the speed of online micro-trends, but by mass accessibility and algorithmic marketing. If you feel overwhelmed by the choice and density of the clothing that is around us, that’s probably because at no other time have we been surrounded by so much stuff and had so many possibilities marketed at us. As psychologist Barry Schwartz examines in his book The Paradox of Choice (2016), an overabundance of choice – whether on high street shelves or digital feeds – ultimately causes demoralisation rather than liberation. Consider the barrage of styles that have recently dominated social feeds. Whether it is the viral “mob wife” or “brat” aesthetics or the heralded return of “indie sleaze”, consumers are inundated with manufactured novelty. Read more: Indie sleaze: a brief fashion history, from messy rebellion to mainstream revival These “must-haves” do not emerge to fill genuine human need. Does the environment truly require us to “whimsymaxx” our way to the nearest landfill? This rapid turnover exploits our impulses – provoking a knee-jerk reaction to buy new goods to avoid feeling outdated. Paradoxically, recent trends such as normcore, dadcore and gorpcore seem to revel in an “anti-style” aesthetic – prioritising utility and nonchalance over a fashion statement. Yet even these styles require consumer participation. Technical gear designed for extreme outdoor survival from heritage performance brands like Arc'teryx and Gore-Tex is repackaged as high-fashion streetwear, attached to considerable price tags, and pushed through the exact same hyper-accelerated promotional machinery. Developing an authentic personal style amid this constant marketing can feel daunting. But there are ways to turn down the noise and reclaim your sartorial agency. 1. Find your style icons Look to figures whose attitude and expression transcend trends – whether it is the uncompromising tailoring worn by Lauren Bacall, the unabashed classicism of Paul Newman or the eclecticism of contemporary stylist Catherine Baba. Catherine Baba in Paris. Abaca Press Looking back to past eras – before commercial algorithms and fast-fashion feeds dictated daily wear – reveals how individuals curated distinct personal styles. They relied on craftsmanship, silhouette and their personal eccentricities, rather than algorithmic prompts. 2. Reevaluate where, when and what you buy It sounds daft, but only buy things you actually like. It’s difficult to not enjoy getting dressed when you are choosing from garments that you bought because they make you happy. Go into charity shops and vintage shops and see what you are drawn to in a space where there is (slightly) less trend interference. 3. Think about your messaging Consider what your wardrobe communicates about your character. Are those puffed sleeved, smocked, tiered dresses really a match for a steely personality, for example? Evaluate whether transient high-street silhouettes align with your actual lifestyle and self-image, or if they merely reflect passing promotional campaigns. 4. Ditch the influencers Look to personal or family archives – photographs of parents, grandparents or historical eras – to identify timeless silhouettes and durable materials that offer a real alternative to influencer-driven fast fashion. If your mum looked great in a ribbed polo neck, there’s a strong chance you will too. Try taking inspiration from old family photos. fotoak/Shutterstock 5. More isn’t always more Clever styling, repairing, dyeing and managing your wardrobe can help you to see that what you have is probably enough. The commercial landscape we live in always tells us we need the latest this and the newest that but, as Schwartz examines in The Paradox of Choice, having the extravagance of choice present in shops and online, actually does us harm. Breaking away from the feeds, the reels, the ads and the algorithm will mean you can curate a less dictated sense of style – and have a wardrobe that truly speaks to who you are.