OP-ED: Trends Are Just History in Disguise
- monetguilbeau

- Mar 7
- 4 min read
Updated: Jun 6
The return of skinny jeans within women’s fashion isn’t a revelation - it’s a testament to the industry’s cyclical nature.

My mother, who has donned skintight denim throughout the ebb and flow of trends, now finds herself inadvertently aligned with the current vogue. I grew up watching fashion trends cast her wardrobe aside, but now, I find myself reaching for the very same pair she wore over a decade ago. The denim hasn’t changed, only the collective attitude around it.
Trends rarely innovate, instead, they’re iterations of what came before. The fashion cycle, a highly studied phenomenon, traces its rhythm back to the 20th century, when garments first became mass-produced and widely distributed. In the 1980’s, amidst neon and geometric prints, fashion theory emerged, categorizing trends into two timeframes: long-run cycles, spanning decades or centuries, and short-run cycles, driven by seasonal shifts in style.
Dominant trends have historically shifted every couple of decades, a pattern that has accelerated with the rise of the internet. Social media has compressed the fashion cycle dramatically, with micro-trends such as the coastal grandmother aesthetic and Y2K butterfly clips, rising and falling within a matter of months.
There’s barely time to ask, “Do I actually like this?” before it’s out of style.
The “20-year rule,” suggests that styles resurface every two decades. In recent years, we’ve seen the revival of 1970’s fashion elements — bell-bottom jeans, macrame tops, and stark white boots — making a sharp comeback in the early 2020’s. However, some analyses indicate that this decade-long cycle is collapsing, as multiple eras and trends become popular simultaneously, thanks to social media.
Trends emerge not from a place of creativity but as social constructs - immaterial bandwagons - existing only because we collectively decide they should. What’s considered “trendy” or “in-style “ is driven by a collective agreement, understood by the psychological theory of social proof. Coined by psychologist, Robert Cialdini, social proof suggests that people mimic the behavior of others to signal belonging. A 2023 study found that social media has caused “social proof to develop into a powerful factor in promoting current fashion trends and purchasing decisions,” particularly amongst Generation Z individuals. This age group is noted as having an “incessant need to fit in among their peer groups…willing to change their clothing or follow current trends,” to avoid feeling out of place. The omnipresence of social media has intensified this effect, as algorithms curate our feeds, stiff with influencers and opinionated trendsetters that further inject the notion of what’s popular. This creates a hall of mirrors where the same silhouettes, color palettes, and aesthetics bounce endlessly back at us.
In just days, a viral video can transform an obscure style into a must-have look. But what happens when everything is trending, all at once? The death of subculture — a theory gaining traction in fashion criticism — suggests that the internet’s hyper-connected landscape dismantles the idea of a singular mainstream. There’s no longer a clear countercultural force to push against, only a constant church of fragmented aesthetics. This dissolution leaves many feeling lost, unsure of what’s cool or where they fit in, while influencers increasingly play the role of taste-makers. We’re left in a constant state of reaction, desperately trying to keep up.
Fast fashion brands capitalize on consumers’ confusion, cranking out low-quality garments destined for landfills as quickly as they can replicate the latest viral look. The fashion industry produces 10% of the global carbon emissions and 92 tons of textile waste annually. Trending pieces, discarded by unconvinced buyers after mere months, compound the environmental damage. Sure, the ever-quickening fashion cycle is exhausting and costly for the college girl who needs a new “going-out” top, but it is detrimental for the people of Ghana, who are netting our discarded shirts and skirts from the Atlantic Ocean.
My wardrobe mainly consists of my mother’s hand-me-downs: ruffled button-downs, silk trousers, and wool double-breasted blazers she wore in the early 2000’s. They’re incredibly worn, but you wouldn’t know it. Classic pieces have a bell curve of their own, but they outlast every trend, proving that timeless style holds far more value than chasing what’s momentarily “in.” I say this not to indoctrinate you with my own personal taste, but to illustrate how breaking out of the trend cycle takes time, confidence, and a bit of soul-searching. What do I like? What do I want to project? What makes me feel and perform my best?
In 2025, authenticity is the new trend. Rather than fitting into an ever-shifting mold, those who embrace genuine self-expression will stand out more than any fad. Fashion is no longer about keeping up with what’s trending — it’s about finding what’s true to us. In a world where trends rapidly cycle in and out, authenticity will remain the one thing that outlasts the noise. Wear black against navy, bobby socks with heels, and line your arms with ripped stockings — do the weird thing.
To me, fashion trends are like a rubber band ball: complex and colorful, interesting enough to catch our attention, but deep down, it's a different shade of the idea, time and time again.

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