00 — Introduction: In Plain Sight
Exploring the context of contemporary casualwear and the key items that seem to have quietly grown to be what everyone wants to wear, but not necessarily talk about – until now.
Basics are identified through an examination of socio-economic, cultural, and fashion trends along with the brand strategies that shape today's contemporary casual fashion.
Exploring the context of contemporary casualwear and the key items that seem to have quietly grown to be what everyone wants to wear, but not necessarily talk about – until now.
This piece started as something called ‘The Basics’, which aimed to create a framework, or product architecture around quasi–minimalist basics at the height of Normcore in 2020, as a business opportunity. It was abundantly clear that the margins were high, and there was money to be made, but at the same time there were palpable risks for significant losses too. A brand needs to be tied with a lifestyle to succeed, and it was a time of uncertain market projection with COVID in full swing. The homebody lifestyle attached to a pandemic was not one to bet on. Case in point: The New York Times’ article called Sweatpants Forever showcased the +662% year-on-year growth and success of Scott Sternberg’s brand, Entireworld in August 2020, only for Sternberg to shut down the business less than a year later.
While the original ‘The Basics’ was neglected, the work made for a great archival insight to what the state of streetwear and contemporary casual fashion was and projected to be. From Bobby Hundreds’ essay, ‘Streetwear is Dead’, to the over-saturation of branded merch and tie-dye sweatpants, the state of cut-and-sew basics were tapped to have a downfall through its ties with mass-market trends. The womenswear market was abuzz with the idea of a ‘Roaring ‘20s’ and the return of the heel, only for the market to revert back to what we now understand as streetwear, casualwear and athleisure basics.
This exploration of cut-and-sew basics resonates heavily today, especially since a key point of interest this past A/W 23/24 was Gen-Z’s hunt for the perfect hoodie. Consumers asked out into their social–media abyss ‘Is your hoodie hoodie-ing?’ and shared ‘Hoodies that hood’ in their season of hibernation.
Hoodies were aconversation
.
Hoodies becamelore
.
The debate, sharing, and reviewing of hoodies for their shape, weight, comfort, and details became a public peer-to-peer design sync. A free focus group session on the state of casualwear, right at our fingertips.
It became clear that streetwear was not dead, like many had claimed a few years ago. It merely underwent a new branding to suit a new generation. Streetwear now encapsulated a point of essential, which comes with an unspoken understanding of a youthful comfy[1] cool. What Entireworld’s Sternberg didn’t bet on was the unfolding cost of living crisis and a collective anxiety about the future post-COVID. He didn’t anticipate that their millennial-focused brand messaging around perennial ‘everything-dressing’ would resonate with Gen Z, and that their preference to don a hoodie to cocoon themselves through tough times, lie flat, bed rot, face the world, and more – would become a reflex.
Interestingly, this very commercial, casual appeal of the humble hoodie is neither quite Streetwear with a capital S nor Quiet Luxury, the minimalist trend du jour. The product itself is not a trend headline, but a product highlight. It feels as if it emerged as a viral item out of seasonal habit and practical wearability (with no specificity on brand). It pops up on your #ForYou feed as if you were chosen to know all about it. A distaste for mass-saturation and an emerging search for the independently styled self is shifting the sentiment of hype to an ‘IYKYK’, after all.
The hoodie itself has a complex significance2.
Unlike the t-shirt or a standard sweatshirt, the hoodie is burdened with a myriad of cultural meanings and contextual significance from its history – especially in youth culture. Branding or the wearer’s profile shape-shifts the item from context to context. The hoodie is connected to a nameless analog trend, or an invisible one, in the sense that it’s core–less: the result of being a sum of fashion, dress, and cultural history. Specific elements of the item, such as the fit or material, are what make the essence of this ‘no makeup make-up’ or ‘non-fashion, fashion’ trend and relevant to today's idea of contemporary dress.
The ideal hoodie has several key characteristics, according to online discourse: The neck must not be too tight, appearing almost worn-in. The perfect hood is circular – almost geometrically accurate – comfortably crowning the head to fit a hat or the over-the-ear headphones underneath as well. The fit should be a mix between boxy and relaxed, with a ‘potato sack body’ nipping exactly at the waist. And finally, the material? A quality heavyweight cotton.
The very construction details and fashion product design that consumers often overlook in a world of fast fashion and fast trends are becoming important. These details are becoming a trend themselves – right in plain sight.
Since 2020, the all-encompassing algorithm has created a sense of need or urgency in fashion consumption. The speed of micro-trends has meant that certain trends, or items have become basics or essentials as an analog alternative to digital trends, and as a way to ground the fleeting trend stories that gamified fashion – with a plethora of Shein hauls to accommodate. This elusive category expanded beyond the cut-and-sew basics that the industry is familiar with, and grew to include items like the basic slip skirt or blazer.
Everything became an essential, iconic, classic, must-have-for-capsule-wardrobe basic to suit a curated lifestyle for the aesthetic-savvy.
It worked in our rat race of staying on top of the latest trend, first. Basics fashion, under the guise of quiet luxury and minimalism, kept us afloat. It became a way to represent rebellion through non-participation, or to signal that being trendless was the ultimate display of taste.
Together with this resurgence of the hoodie in the wider market across various consumer segments, the pieces were coming together: a somewhat distinct range of basics that draw in elements of streetwear, minimalism, sartorial menswear, performative wellness via athleisure, luxury, and more, were the drivers that ultimately led to the hoodie discourse. It was less about the capsule wardrobe edits by stylists or digital curators, and more about the coming together of hero cut-and-sew pieces that pair with larger trending items.
And they were all being tagged under the singular umbrella of 'basics'. It became apparent to identify these key items for the items themselves and deliver a concept around them.
Fig. 4. Thinking like a multi-trend business with an attention to merchandising, we place our macro trends of the 2020s in compartmentalized quadrants across basics product pillars to demonstrate their connection.
The basics pillars are edited into the below:
Against the basics pillars are organized quadrants of key trends for the 2020’s:
Today, micro-trends are starting to slow down or feel completely out of touch with what the market really wants (was the Mob Wife Aesthetic the one to end them all?). The 2025 and 2030 trend forecasts feel a bit over-the-top. Positive predictions still claim a somewhat roaring 20s, while more pragmatic ones feel almost too bleak. Emerging 2030 projections based on data and cultural learnings from our present 'recovery' pandemic period feel too far-reaching. Lightning-fast algorithmic feeds mean the condensing of trend periods could mean that 2030 might just be a repeat of 2015, or maybe even 2025. Cultural theories such as Premium Mediocre, conflicting consumer sentiments, and long-standing lifestyle-driven aesthetics such as athleisure and minimalism all come together to refresh our general understanding of basics, and, in a sense, define contemporary fashion today.
Basics products themselves represent the crux of wearability and modernity, periodically shifting between fashion trends and the generational rite of passage through youth culture.
Furthermore, the production, marketing, and sale of basics have been a consistent theme within the industry since the 1980s, reaching the mass market in the 1990s. Retailers such as The Gap, along with designers like Donna Karan and Calvin Klein—who created empires with diffusion lines and collections that included sportswear, loungewear, and intimates—engineered basics to be a fluid, shape-shifting entity adapting to changing tastes and markets. We re-examine this stronghold concept with more recent updates in streetwear and personal style to illustrate a clear picture of contemporary casual fashion, and to further frame basics in order to bet on them for the upcoming seasons.
The exploration of these observations is the basis of this report, Back to Basics: The Hoodie Reflex.
Note: While basics are a universal concept and therefore unisex, this report focuses on womenswear.
Basics represent ultimate wearability and casual contemporary dress across all markets and are typically an easy win for fashion businesses.
It’s pared-back logo-less simplicity which could be viewed as cost-cutting, is instead the very thing that makes the item a luxurious idea – and perhaps even (often misleadingly) a sustainable one.
While a luxury brand's basics items with luxury prices spark outrage online, a luxury consumer is not shopping the basics range at The Gap – they are seeking it in their arena, and so the arena must comply. At the same time, since there are no ruffles or printed graphics to hide behind, basics items can be heavily scrutinized as design flaws in fit, fabric, and longevity are made obvious after the first wash, or even the first wear.
From luxury to street, when looking at the key pieces that make up a basics range, there isn't much newness in the items themselves at launch or per season. Instead, the concept is scaled to suit a specific market or consumer, with words such as 'premium' or 'elevated' attached to products as a way to upsell items with organic cotton, heavyweight terry, or ethical manufacturing, for example. Streetwear's entry into mass market and luxury fashion (outside of youth culture) around 2016, waves of 'IT' items (like the bike short), and street style's shift to high-low styling expanded the range of a basics collection, and paved the way for basics-focused brands and direct-to-consumer retail startups to thrive as accessible, relatable, casual comforts. Elements of 'new' are updated each season, and changes are subtle across garment construction, surface details, materials, and color. The items are formulaic. A familiar, simple design is reinvigorated in the latest seasonal colors or a new singular point of interest, such as a raglan sleeve or a ribbed neck binding. What warrants a higher price tag is simply how it's made, brand affiliation, and granular design points of difference.
Just as an emerging fatigue for streetwear was discussed and declared dead across headlines around 2018, the impact of the pandemic revived faltering sweatsuit sales to an unexpected surge. A back-to-basics reset swept the world as we were confined indoors, work-from-home cameras were on, and we prioritized a stylish comfort that could carry us from couch to street.
Businesses capitalized on this by adding emotion to basics:‘uplift yourself with a bouclé fleece set’
,‘experience premium from gym to couch with knitted activewear’
– we were stuck indoors and coddled by the prospect of being cocooned in layers of cotton through relentless ads from basics brands.
Sought-after plush reverse weaves were almost studied, with hoodie and sweatpant aficionados learning the distinct differences in Gildan, Hanes, and Champion materials and all of their weights on Reddit and Discord. An understanding of Normcore[3], streetwear hype, and its fuccboi speak trickled into commercial consumer behavior and mainstream vernacular. Consumers sought out specific styles (including the very specific New Balance 990v4) and joined the discourse that was perhaps previously seen as a menswear-only streetwear lane, or even unfashionable. It was streetwear stripped of clout and logos – it was simply sportswear – or dare we say, basics[4].
This return to streetwear items, without the trend tag, exemplifies the cyclic nature of 'It' items, especially when their origins as products encompass wearability, practicality, and utility. It's as if the very components that made streetwear as we know it had to live through the traditional trend cycle in order to return to its native status as a utilitarian basic or essential.
Let's take a look at the bomber jacket:
To successfully cross the 'trend chasm', a trend or item must:
In 2020, sportswear came into the commercial product mix in a stronger dose, with enthusiastic fashionistas mixing their at-home-wear with onscreen-worthy separates.
Think printed resort shirt with pull-on shorts; oversized statement shirts with top-of-the-line leggings or bike shorts; a maxi slip skirt paired with a sweatshirt; an elongated sports bra with high-waisted sweat shorts.
A submission-based Instagram account, @wfhfits, made headlines for highlighting the fits of the fashion-forward, whether it was a boundary-pushing outfit or a relatable simple one, rendering unfussy casualwear even more acceptable if it was being championed by trend leaders. Through the pandemic, sportswear was no longer attached to trends or sporty activity - it was instead tools of dress attached to our everyday lifestyle, enabled by elasticated waistbands and 4-way stretch construction.
The same ingenuity applied to festival dressing was applied to the home, with this very high-low mix resulting in a hedonistic showmanship meets curated 'effortless' casual sensuality.
Let’s take a look at this 8 year range of key items With a ‘start, middle, end’ viewpoint. While we can see clear attachments to wider trend messages, these specific items became so popular, they gained a ‘basics’ or ‘essential’ status.
The term 'basics' is used to encapsulate core products, instead of fashion-focused ideas or on-trend items. A basics collection indicates versatility, a sense of investment, or an outfit-building need. More recently, it has become a means to dress economically, or even sustainably, though the truth of the latter is questionable and should be scrutinized.
It has become a universally known term (at least in the West) and has visibility from fast fashion to luxury. Its products can be viewed as a blank platform to build brand worlds upon. For example, the humble, hardworking t-shirt, or the staple button-up shirt that never reach 'trending' heights attached to a specific trend name or subculture, but rather exist on their own as 'It' items. Conversely, items that were once seen as trendy become basics 'post-trend' as they trickle down into the mass market with trend saturation.
As a result of innovation or macro movement in the the wider industry of art, design, concepts of futurism. These are not micro-trends, aesthetics or fads.
Examples
Minimalism
Sportswear
Tailored Womenswear
Instigated by the consumer or subcultures as a result of culture and lifestyle shifts and updated industry capabilities. Contemporary understandings of ‘aesthetics’ and micro trends live here.
Examples
Business Casual Modernity
Streetwear
Athleisure
In our digital age, influencers, online muses and ‘it’ hero items often become viral and drive entire trends to mass popularity.
Examples
Walmart ‘Free Assembly’ Jean
Uniqlo U Crew Neck
Aritzia TNA Cozy Perfect Zip–Up Hoodie
While the fashion industry thrives on the perpetual cycle of trends, basics have not changed dramatically over the past ten years. Instead, the foundation of basics has expanded to suit broader consumer groups and to encompass the trend drivers outlined above that influence today's fashion.
One such consumer group is the luxury segment, which is traditionally seen as more aligned with the Art/Concept Macro Movement as illustrated above, but instead, seems to be looking towards basics built on culture, lifestyle, and 'it' moment trends. In response, just as the luxury market adopted streetwear, it has incorporated basics into its product strategy, sometimes in the guise of 'heritage', 'essential', or 'core'.
Despite a fashion’s habit of looking beyond our eye-line of reality toward a shiny, aspirational trend forecast, it’s the pull of the ordinary, the desire to touch grass and be, feel, and appear down to earth, that positions basics not just as markers of fashion, but of everyday dress.
For example, while the fitted baby t-shirt may be popular with Gen-Z, relaxed t-shirts still perform well for the wider commercial market as a wardrobe essential, which is stylistically imparted to consumers as wearable, versatile, and practical. The consumer experience of seeking a desired fit of a simple t-shirt is similar to that of denim now – bootleg may not be front-and-center from a trend point of view; however, the bootleg consumer will always exist.
Unlike the faux pas of 'outfit repeating' in high fashion circles, basics are embraced as stylistic anchors—a hallmark of the seasoned fashion insider rather than a novice. In fact, in many ways, basics and their footprint in fashion history have meant that there is now less friction between dressing trendy or ordinarily. Dressing in basics can also be viewed as modern, or a participation in modern attitudes towards fashion.
With 'cool girl' aesthetics and a point of effortlessness as frequent style objectives, we could argue that this very point of being ordinary oozes the sought-after principle of effortlessness and carefree, casual attitude for fashion – so long as you're not basic yourself.
Whether it involves high-effort with high prices, or an authentic low-cost effortlessness, there seems to be a solid cohort of consumers who are happy to blend in as fashion takes a backseat in their priorities. The industry often doesn't focus on this cohort, assuming that the 'everyday' consumer will eventually follow the trendsetters. With an inevitable post-micro-trend world - or at least a break from it - our understanding of basics fashion will be (and perhaps, already has been) ingrained into our culture of dress as ordinary style, plain and simple. This isn't Quiet Luxury—a trend laden with consumer aspirations to display markers of anonymous wealth. The Quiet Luxury trend has strayed so far from its origins that it has ironically homogenized individual style to the point where it isn't quiet or appears luxurious at all. Instead, it has developed into a monotonous landscape where the act of everyone trying to appear quietly luxurious has been silenced by ubiquity.
If everybody looks rich, no one is.
After all, just how many Quiet Luxury one-and-done investment pieces can one own? Plus, where's the fun in just investing?
Fashioning the everyday is exhausting, and basics have become a solution to decision fatigue.
Basics serve as a tool to signal various messages, trends, affiliations, and lifestyles. They can convey messages ranging from 'I'm just like you' to 'I don't participate in trends.' Basics can also project a curated image of fashion through carefully edited and refined outfitting that is assumed with the wearer's profile. Far from being a default state, basic fashion is often a deliberate choice.
While trends might be seen as low-brow clutter or the result of falling victim to marketing tactics, basics are often associated with the creative elite who understand concepts like minimalism and 'thoughtful' dressing which result in a different kind of casual. A known, upscale one.
In contrast to playing 'up' messages with basics, basics are also utilized to casualize and dress down the high-stress nature of fashion trends. A fatigue of micro-trends is driving conversations around discovering 'individual style', which mostly looks like casualized versions of high-effort looks like Blokecore. This sentiment is further amplified with tight budgets and an awareness of over-consumption, resulting in basics growing more 'market share' across wardrobes as they act as tools to 'hack' outfits together. Content trends such as '333 dressing' (which often incorporate basics), 'capsule wardrobe' building, 'the rule of 5' trend, or popular content such as '#QuietLuxury styling hacks' are a reflection of this.
Further sentiments around basics can be expressed as below:
A crisp white button–down shirt, a simple outfit of t-shirt and denim: a look of basics are often utilized for celebrity PR stunts and media spreads as a way to symbolise a fresh start or a relatable ‘girl next door’ appeal, re: Taylor Swift on Rolling Stone magazine etc.
A ‘cool girl’ aesthetic driven by an ‘It Girl’ or style icon du jour has consistently popularized key basics in contemporary fashion history. Whether it be Birkin’s effortless bohemian style to Kate Moss’ model-off-duty casual throughout the ‘90s.
From ‘French Girl’ style, ‘Minimalist Scandi’ style, to Japanese streetwear, cultural archetypes of style act as drivers for directions in basics items.
An edited approach to dressing results in a streamlined buy–in for basics, typically limited to a t-shirt, a tank top, and a tailored trouser.
The popularization of foodie and cafe culture, along with accessible services such as print–on-demand services means that staff are often wearing business merch as their uniform, or simple basics.
With the cost of living crisis, a consumer value of sustainability, and a desire for personal style, Gen–Z consumers drive online conversations around ‘styling hacks’, with Rachel Spencer’s 333 styling recently going viral.
Chronically-online, trend-conscious consumers use basics to balance overly trend-conscious looks with staying true to their personal style and practical needs. Basics ground fashion choices across a 'styling spectrum', adapting to various lifestyles.
To illustrate this, let's examine how a white t-shirt, a quintessential basic, functions as an outfitting builder in different contexts.
Basics-focused brands are increasingly utilizing styling as a service and investing in building streamlined narratives around stylized dress for the everyday.
This approach positions basics as 'non-trend' practical essentials, cementing these brands as authoritative leaders on wardrobe must-haves for consumers who value the longevity of un-trended products.
Ironically, this 'non-trend' approach to basics has become a trend itself. Nevertheless, the versatility of these items has validated these brands' status as experts in building essential wardrobes.
Key brand callouts that are exploring a stylized approach to streamlined, everyday dressing:
The Line, launched in 2014, was an e-commerce platform that had a retail space called 'The Apartment' in Soho, NYC, (later in LA and the Hamptons too). The space presented their curation of high-end home products and a “wardrobe of interesting and elevated essentials” within the context of a designed apartment which represented “the fundamental building blocks of your home and wardrobe” as a response to “over assortment in the marketplace”. Everything within The Apartment was for sale and merchandised by founder Vanessa Traina, whose umbrella company, Assembled Brands, had a “distinct vision focused on defining a new kind of American Sportswear that is less about trend and more about lifestyle”. While The Line, The Apartment, and their essentials brand Protagonist have closed, the attention of Assembled Brands is now focused on Khaite, which has demonstrated success in womenswear.
LOT2046, founded in 2017 by Vadik Marmeladov, was a subscription-based product service that aimed to simplify consumerism and challenge fashion norms. For a 'basics' subscription of $50 or an 'experience' tier for $100 monthly, subscribers received personalized packages of monochromatic basics, hygiene products, and could opt into occasional experimental items like tattoo guns.
The project aimed to eliminate 'capitalist distractions' and foster a minimalist, essential approach to consumption. Packages often bore messages like "This is between us" or "For the good death," reflecting LOT's philosophy to champion an “aesthetic with moral dimension” and the 'self' over consumption. By dematerializing the act of dressing through their subscription service, LOT2046 positioned itself as a solution for consumers to redirect their attention to more meaningful aspects of their daily lives.
Despite its somewhat anti-fashion and anti-hype manifesto, consumers developed a fandom for the brand and its founder. They chronicled items in shared documents, archived Marmeladov's "fresh hour" YouTube livestreams, and discussed products in detail. Their interactive "ChatOS LOT Community" website further engaged users.
LOT2046 closed in 2022; however, recent social media activity has signaled a potential relaunch, suggesting LOT2046's approach to basics will return.
Wardrobe NYC, founded by stylist and editor-in-chief Christine Centenera and designer Josh Goot, reimagines luxury essentials for the modern consumer. These essentials are launched in-season within capsule concepts or edits such as Tailored, Sport, and Street collections. Products are shoppable as 'Wardrobes' that automatically come with a discount. This offering of an already-curated wardrobe also presents as if it was directly styled by Centenera herself.
At launch, The New York Times described the men's collection as including "a roomy overcoat, a two-button blazer, a T-shirt, a pair of loose-fitting trousers and a hoodie," while the women's line features "a gloriously big coat, a white collarless shirt, black leggings, an A-line skirt and more." The palette is exclusively black and white, which Goot terms "democratic" and "solutions-based." At launch in 2017, the Italian-made collection was sold exclusively on the brand's site, with an eight-piece wardrobe priced at $3,000 and a four-piece 'core' wardrobe at $1,500 for both men and women.
In a 2020 Vogue interview, Centenera articulated the brand's appeal to two customer types: those seeking a well-made, lasting uniform of pieces that work well together, and fashion consumers who desire non-branded, seasonless staples to mix with trendier items. She emphasized the versatility and reliability of the pieces, stating, "I know they're going to look great, they're going to suit me."
Developed by Tibi’s founder Amy Smilovic and Styling Director Dione Davis during the pandemic, Tibi's 'Style Class' on Instagram Live catapulted the brand to new heights of popularity with their Creative Pragmatist brand persona and styling identity. It especially spoke to consumers who were fatigued by trends and were seeking a more practical, utilitarian approach to dress, without sacrificing the joy of being stylish or creative in their everyday. The concept of The Creative Pragmatist has since become a book after discovering fans were making PDFs from the screenshots they would take of the Style Class series on Instagram and sharing it amongst themselves. Tibi's own 'Tibictionary' includes anagrams such as WOF (Without Fails) understood by their customers around the world as their essentials, along with terms such as 'HTH' (Have-to-Haves) and I&O (In and Out – pieces of the moment) which their viewers and consumers understand as codes to dress.
Tibi's e-commerce website acts as a bonus go-to source for their consumers, with content such as 'Are you a CP?', Style Class, Tibi Vocab, and 'The Good Ick' where the odd and nuanced are discussed.
Just when we thought streetwear as we know it was distinctively tied to Millennials (Gen-Z are too cool for such a generic sub-cultural term, of course, preferring more hybridized micro-iterations of the term), a Millennial mom who shares her Alpha child's trend notes became viral. One notable trend report by Faith Hitch was that hoodies were the ultimate casual cool for young teens.
While hoodies have graduated to becoming a somewhat passive purchase for Millennials, i.e., purchasing without much thought, hoodies are now an active purchase for the younger generations, who are dissecting the item's fit, fabric, and details as a topical trend interest online.
This led to an exploration of how the three generations – Millennials, Gen-Z, and Alphas – view their blue sky basics of t-shirt and jeans.
Examining the different approaches to basics silhouettes - from fitted to oversized - allows us to visualize the surrounding trends that have impacted each generation, from the Millennial's love of Japandi minimalism, Gen-Z's interest in off-beat individualism, and Alphas' love of baggy clothes.
As we start to look back on high summer in the Northern Hemisphere, we can reflect on how consumers built upon their understanding of basics with varying trend touchpoints and product types, from long-term staples to topical/seasonal items.
After assessing brands, collections, and media around basics, a common glossary of terms are evidently used indifferently – and frequently.
It often feels repetitive, however, a simple roster of basics terminology acts as a familiar code to connect the consumer to the product, the message, and the vision. Identifiable terms are key to directly resonate with the target basics consumer, without relying on a singular hashtag.
*Words that are typically used to describe, sell, or create a sense of urgency when describing the basics. Create your own, or hit the shuffle for randomized inspiration.
While basics often serve as a catch-all term, the following visualization aim to explore how concepts of basic, classic, and essential style intersect or diverge from one another.
At the intersection of nostalgia and innovation lies the realm of basics fashion, a domain where history and contemporary tastes collide. This section explores the historical drivers of basics fashion, with a notable focus on the 1990s. It examines macro concepts, trend cycle systems, larger fashion shifts, and the power of nostalgia to better understand why certain basics themes, such as minimalism, consistently resonate with consumers.
The standardized trend timeline, trend lifecycle, or trend period varies from an organic culture-led (e.g. fad, micro trend) to a manufactured industry-based (e.g. seasonal, product and concept-led) one. When understanding or articulating the return of past trends, trend forecasters have historically leaned on the Vicennial Trend Cycle to explain the phenomenon, i.e. the return of trends every 20 years.
This 20-year trend cycle can be theorized as a 'Parent-to-Child' or 'Older Sibling Chaser' trend theory. In this concept, a child born in the early 2000s would have been too young to participate in the adult trends of that time period but grew up witnessing or even idolizing them. As a result, when they become adults, they revive this era to participate in it themselves – Gen-Z's love of Y2K fashion exemplifies this. We can call this phenomenon 'Generational Recycling'.
To understand the impact of trends and their trend cycle, it is crucial to examine how fashion businesses rely on trend themes, concepts, and archival references. These elements are used to rejuvenate their businesses by introducing newness, updating their offerings to reflect seasonal consumer lifestyle shifts, or simply outperforming their competitors.
In understanding the impact of the 1990s and our developmental attachment to that era, we review key concepts and theories that have emerged since 1995, comparing them to key shifts and highlights in the fashion industry.
Evidently, basics dressing is a result of cultural, conceptual, and product-driven movements since the 1990s. While we cannot pinpoint a single moment or reason for our consistent reversion to this decade, we can connect the aforementioned concepts, theories, and fashion shifts to today's contemporary casual outfit consisting of a simple t-shirt, hoodie, and straight-leg jeans. After all, our bodies, with the same four limbs, have not changed.
Are we reverting to our postmodernism roots of the '90s because we refuse to modernize further, limiting new trends or fashion to have longevity?
Or, with the stagnant state of 'metaverse' fashion[10], are consumers content to dress for real life – mundanity and all? Alternatively, are they unconsciously dressing for a pre-digital time when there was still an idealized romance for modernism and technology, rather than a fatigue of it?
Upon closer examination, it is evident that basics as we know them - t-shirts, long-sleeve shirts, athleisure, denim, and streamlined tailored workwear pieces for women - came into fruition in the mid-1990s, and perhaps more specifically, in 1994.
To understand the origins of basics as we know them, we look to where it all started: the 1990s. Our interest in the '90s cannot be accurately attributed to the concept of the 20-year trend cycle. We could invert this understanding of 20-year trend intervals of 'trends returning', and instead argue that micro-trends have shortened the trend cycles into a longer trend era. Alternatively, we could reason that trends are not cycling out faster, but rather swinging back and forth like a pendulum within a larger era that started in the '90s and perhaps ends in the 2010s – at least, for now.
Could it be that we are just a continuation of postmodern fashion principles and not, in fact, a new era?
Perhaps a slowdown of new, inventive trends can be attributed to the fact that invention in fashion – silhouettes, materials, details, ideas of futurism - has stagnated, as the human body and imagination have reached their peak. If 1984 marked an Orwellian darkness, 1994 kicked off a postmodern, uniform flatness – with perky marketing and positivity in third-wave feminism.
Utilizing the Vogue Archives and WWD's Archive platform, we explored the roots of basics fashion, its trend leaders, consumer mindsets, and the temperature of consumer culture of the time in an effort to define our connection to the era.
In 1994, consumers were starting to feel fatigued by the romantic, layered look of grunge[11] saturating the commercial market in 1993, and the 'power dressing' of the 1980s. The latter, characterized by bold silhouettes and pronounced shoulders, had initially emerged as a visual assertion of women's growing presence and authority in traditionally male-dominated workplaces but was beginning to feel outdated by the mid-1990s.
There is a noticeable shift in tone and attitude in the January issue of Vogue in 1994, with its fashion features kicking off with 'In Pursuit of the New Prettiness', flipping the script on what 'pretty' meant up until that point. Remarks on minimalism, sleek workwear, and effortless athleisure redefined 'pretty', marking a significant change from ruffles and volume.
This 90s pivot from frills to functionality bears a striking resemblance to our recent evolution. The dreamy fantasy-based Cottagecore aesthetic with its pouf sleeves and tiered skirts giving way to sharp blazers and tailored waistcoats[12].
Moving forward, while Vogue issues of 1995 continued the conversation on minimalism, athleisure, tailored workwear, and futuristic fashion, an exploration of 'sexiness' and glamour was a notable distinction from 1994.
Evidently, 1994 was the birth year of this casualization of minimalism and a 'capsule'-ing of basics, positioned between the peak of grunginess in 1993 and the emerging glamour of 1995.
Economy: Slow recovery from early 1990s recession
Retail: Discount stores gaining popularity
Fashion: Grunge style influential, Marc Jacobs collection for Perris Ellis, plus romantic elements via bohemian-inspired pieces referencing the 1970s
Globalization: NAFTA* signed, to be implemented 1994
Economy: Continued growth, low inflation
Retail: Rise of “big box” stores
Fashion: Minimalism trending, sleek and pared-down looks ascribed as the new glamour, concept of ‘athleisure’ ascribed by journalists
Fast Fashion: H&M expanding internationally
Globalization: GATT* transformed into WTO
Economy: Robust growth, “Goldilocks economy” emerging
Retail: E-commerce beginnings (Amazon founded)
Fashion: Heroin-chic look controversial, supermodel era in full swing, saturating a commercial understanding of glamor
Beauty: Cosmetics industry growth
Globalization: Continued expansion of global trade
Fig. 26. An overview of 1993, 1994, and 1995 to examine key differences in the birth of basics fashion as we know it today. Disclaimer: all mentioned fashion themes existed in the wider timeline of the 1990's, however we were able to distinguish these differences by assessing the key messages across archival Vogue and WWD.
Key Differences: Context
Key Differences: Fashion
Additional Notes and Term Explanation:
In 1994, the fashion landscape was in transition. Grunge was phasing out of casualwear, and an '80s preference for ‘power shoulder’ workwear was fading. Vogue's reintroduction of 'prettiness' in January 1994 was a welcome idea for readers. The commercialized streetwear of the '80s, led by Black culture, was now described by L.A. Gear executives as worn by 'Street Hikers,' with Ralph Lauren adding that these consumers were 'partaking of life' [13].
Notable sneakers, such as Puma Suedes and Adidas Gazelles, were worn not to work out in, but to work. Adidas president Peter Moore explained the surge in sportswear as "part of the honest, no-hype nineties attitude"[14]. This amalgamation of fashion across categories came to be understood as American Sportswear as we know it today, less about the dresses of Bill Blass which defined the term in the 1970s.
The values of the womenswear consumer shifted as she explored ways to dress for everyday contexts, namely the workplace[15]. A shoot titled Strictly Speaking[16] conveyed: "Strip away last year’s loose layers and unveil what’s essential this season: streamlined jackets and skirts that enhance the bodies beneath them. To convey a sophisticated message, black says it best - adding a sexy edge to practical pieces that work by day and relax by night.
Calvin Klein attributed this shift in modern prettiness to women no longer trying to look powerful or like men[17]. He explained that this global sentiment extended beyond the United States, with European women wanting the same freedom and outgrowing the ideal of being "decorative," "fussy," or "pretty" for men. Klein reasoned that through this modernization of minimalist workwear, Europeans wanted to dress like American women and wear flats, stating:
“It’s about ease, not about looking like you spent an hour in your closet”[18].
Vogue's illustrated consumer priority focused on being chic, with a desire for simplicity and an attention to the face and body. The use of "-chic" was the "-core" of the time, fashioning lifestyle and culture-led trends: sporty-chic, grunge-chic, retro-chic, etc.
While a focus on a 'simple chic' was evident across Vogue's advertisers, it was evident that the brands were yet to catch up with the contemporary culture and conversation expressed across the pages. Advertisements ranged from cigarettes, cars, fur coats, milk, sneakers, products for diet fads and luxury bags, demonstrating the tension between the old and new guards of fashion and culture. As minimalism and modern simplicity gained interest, outdated ads slowly diminished. We can also attribute this to the popularity of new age spirituality and wellness activities like yoga and pilates, with Christy Turlington as its poster child. Minimalism could be seen as the zen-ification of grunge fashion, which primarily consisted of more relaxed and printed casual items.
Trends in items flip-flopped between desired hemlines, and fashion stories were almost led by singular designers, or at least, by a singular vision. A February 1994 Vogue photoshoot summed it up nicely: "All about ease: The hallmarks of great American sportswear–clean, unfussy styling and a relaxed, athletic attitude-typify fashion's direction for spring. Warmed with a pale neutral palette, the season's simple pieces turn up in their softest-ever incarnations, from pajama-easy pantsuits to flippy skirts to fluid slip dresses"[19].
May's 'Vogue's Point of View' proclaimed that the face of fashion was changing, calling out "Fashion's New Woman: Strong and Sexy," and aptly described the fashion persona as: "After seasons of soft layers and unstructured slips, a very tailored, very pulled-together look is taking shape. The pivotal elements: the sharp lines of a menswear suit, the forceful femininity of high stiletto heels, and the polish of smooth hair, lined eyes, and really red lips"[20]. This idea of glamour was a cleansing of the palette after an era of 1980's maximalism and youth-culture driven grunge. This take on modern minimalism was seductive and almost sensual, by comparison.
It's important to note that minimalism was not the only trend at the time. Trends and referential designs inspired by vintage fashion emerged as significant style influences, coinciding with but distinct from the broader movement towards minimalism. This meant that there were other creative concepts connecting with consumers outside of minimalism. Typical archetypes such as floral femininity and off-kilter bohemian styles existed for a reason - and still exist today.
Trends and referential designs based on vintage fashion existed in 1994. Instead of algorithms and Pinterest moodboards, designers like Gaultier and Galliano drew inspiration from tribal fashion and historical art, justifying these modes as a way to educate or artfully adorn the feminine form. The '40s and '50s inspired suiting and formal eveningwear by Prada, the '30s inspired slip dresses and romantic, slinky dressing (John Galliano), the '60s mod influenced suiting and leisurewear (Calvin Klein), and a '70s bohemia inspired high-low mixing with contemporary grunge (Anna Sui).
'90s fashion, known for its minimalism as a way to define contemporary womenswear (Donna Karan, Giorgio Armani) and beginnings of futurism (Helmut Lang), only stood out with its design principles within a backdrop of a wider trend scene. From a high-fashion, designer point of view, it was not about aesthetics but conceptual creativity, with a tendency to 'update the classics' or explore femininity. In 1995, Vivienne Westwood said: "Glamour has always had a touch of nostalgia" articulated through careful tailoring and old-fashion infrastructure of past styles[21].
Discussions of seasonal essentials were key across the pages, with our contemporary idea of the 'Shacket' already present as the 'Shirt-like Jacket'[22]. The '60s inspired shift dress, a button-up work vest, lingerie-inspired little black dresses, short-skirted suits, a-line minidresses, sheer shirts, sleek, slicked back hair with a touch of bronzing were ever-present in 1994. Donna Karan's exploration of bodycon dresses was considered a new form of 'power suiting' in its simplicity. "I don't care about fashion. I care about comfort and what's modern."[23]
T-shirts were styled into runway looks (Chanel), and a headline callout across catwalks with Vogue's View feature in February 1994 read, "Tee Time: Out of the gym and off the street, the T-shirt emerged on designer runways as spring's replacement for last season's ubiquitous white button-down."
Perhaps this focus on contemporary lifestyles, shift in consumer values, and a yearning for simplicity after the whirlwind of grunge, spearheaded a futuristic minimalism that converted all casual dressing to feel straightforward and simple.
WWD, in a December 1994 report titled "The Basics are Building the Business", summed up that mass-market brands such as Guess and Lee expanded their assortment of denim-related items, including jackets, dresses, skirts, woven and knit tops, and 'sexy little t-shirts.' Margie Hanselman, merchandise manager for Levi's women's jeans at the time, shared that they had a 40%+ increase in 1994 over 1993, stating, "The trends, while it might sound boring, were 'more of everything.' One of the interesting things, though, is that there seems to be a shift in silhouette toward a relaxed fit. Our biggest business is still in junior, and that customer has been focused on skintight for a couple of years. I think it might be related to the amount of advertising there's been lately for loose fits for men, and that may be moving over to the target 14-to-19 group in girls. They're wearing them loose and slouchy, with a tiny top. And with looser fits, you get the trend and the volume customer." The piece also recognized an emerging problem: many stores were looking identical through this business of basics, merely differentiated by range of fits and proportions – a problem that resonates today.
Overall, being modern in 1994 was not a futuristic, controversial idea, nor a rebellion against traditional values and roles – it was a practical one built on a need for straightforward simplicity that women desired. Even the discussion or exploration of trends in print media was informative, with writers and editors reporting on what leading creatives were innovating or championing. Though this was still done in a capitalist context back then, by contrast, today's trends feel as if they are built upon the end goal of the consumption of product and content, and the marketability in between it all.
Additional notes:
Additional brand callouts*:
* This is a general overview/ summary, excuse our boldness.
Highlighting designers and brands, and their signature styles which contributed to shaping minimalism and casual basics in womenswear today.
Suggested further research: Designer and contemporary denim brands, activewear brands
There is a brand matrix that expands on basics brands in Part 3: Marketplace of this piece.
Brands with a '90s past are tapping into their own brand histories or legacy product categories to reach today's audiences through their nostalgia for the era's style.
Updating Brand Values and Consumer Lifestyle
By the mid-1990s, Abercrombie & Fitch was blatantly, proudly elitist. "We go after the cool kids. We go after the attractive all-American kid with a great attitude and a lot of friends," said A&F's CEO, Mike Jeffries, in 2013. "A lot of people don't belong [in our clothes], and they can't belong. Are we exclusionary? Absolutely."
Fast forward to today, and Abercrombie has transformed to exude an inclusionary image. Fashion for all, and beyond casualwear. The brand has revamped its product lines, marketing strategies, and corporate culture to reflect a more socially conscious consumer base. The company now offers a wider range of sizes and focuses on quality basics that resonate with millennials and Gen Z. This strategic shift has not only helped Abercrombie shed its controversial image but has also led to a significant resurgence in popularity and sales, proving that adapting to new values, and not holding on to history, is the only way forward.
Cultivating Value and Loyalty
Founded in 1984, Eileen Fisher has steadily evolved into a brand that offers timeless, minimalist pieces that align with contemporary attitudes around quality, sustainable basics. The company's initiatives, such as its take-back program for used garments and its emphasis on organic and recycled materials, resonate strongly with today's eco-conscious consumers.
By leveraging its long-standing values and adapting them to current market demands, Eileen Fisher has connected with the consumer. While not completely 'slow' with manufacturing in China, Eileen Fisher embodies a 'slowed down' approach to fashion, balancing quality materials and approachable costs.
In an effort to create a holistic viewpoint on the flow of influence, we build on the development of influence in product design, and now consider the saturation of these products through various types of marketing strategies.
Today, consumers are caught in a paradox: they vocally reject the constant churn of new trends, expressing unprecedented fatigue with micro trends, while simultaneously craving fresh creativity and liberation from trend-driven marketing. This tension manifests in two seemingly contradictory ways. First, there's a surge in collective nostalgia, a shared longing for familiar styles of the past. Second, there's a growing emphasis on 'personal style' – an individualistic response to algorithms that categorize us into homogeneous groups, leading to what sociologists term 'context collapse'.
This dichotomy creates a value-action gap, or what we might call 'trend double speak'.
Consumers appear uncertain of their desires, engaging in circular discussions about style and identity. Yet, despite this ambivalence, they continue to participate in the very system they critique. They succumb to adding items to their cart, then anxiously await the arrival of their purchase within the now-expected window of 3-5 business days.
This tension between need (newness) and want (staying in-the-know) creates a deadlock state - one that basics-focused brands are capitalizing on as a point of neutrality.
Neutral casual fashion based on the 1990s will likely continue to thrive, as it can serve as both a trend-driven Quiet Luxury and a trend-less versatile basic. These items are generally accessible and accommodating to body diversity. For example, bootleg jeans pose challenges in catering to various heights, as the ankle flare requires individual attention during production for each size and length (which is costly). Similarly, the 2000s low-waisted hipster jean is not favorable across both size ranges and age demographics.
The continuance of 1990s basics fashion can also be attributed to an unquantifiable third factor – attitude. It embodies a sort of effortless, carefree nonchalance towards being on trend and off of it - an ambivalence tied to nothing other than valuing womenswear and dressing for one's own womanhood with a modernist approach, that makes it fashionable. Perhaps the modernity and minimalism of 1990s fashion is the Helvetica font of fashion – timeless, utilitarian, and when used right, fashionable.
Late and late-stage capitalism pushed new products with minimalist and futuristic messages around new 'modern' lifestyles for Gen-X in the 1990s and early 2000s. A post-capitalist era brought about a staunch minimalism among Millennials in a time when projected girlbosshoods coincided with a shift in advertising strategies. Advertisers became less focused on emotive appeals tied to lifestyles, and instead targeted consumers based on identities linked to consumption patterns.
Dress for the job you want became fashion the life you want.
The focus shifted from 'you run to work, therefore you need these sneakers' to 'you are a wellness girlie, therefore you need this Lululemon dupe that will change your pilates-to-brunch life'.
The romance in perusing womenswear has been lost as algorithms push hauls and hacks, and influencers systematically 'shoe pop' and selfie onto our screens. It seems as if the womenswear market has lost confidence in the art of self-directed fashion, becoming more susceptible to trends – akin to a Stockholm syndrome situation with our algorithms and sponsored recommendations.
While the fashion industry has shifted away from overly romanticized marketing to women, Donna Karan's 1994 advertisement exemplifies the emotion of femininity in the 1990s well:
Technological advances in the early days of internet culture accelerated in the 90's. As speculative cyber worlds emerged with the approach of the year 2000, the first online transaction occurred in 1994, and internet usage became normalized in everyday life. This democratization of access eventually gave birth to Gen-Viz[25], with Millennials being the first generation to be digitally fluent, and Gen-Z emerging as the first digital natives, who are often seen as the primary target markets by businesses today. Thirty years later, with advancements in A.I. and exploration of the metaverse, public sentiment around technology appears more skeptical and negative, rather than optimistic - a stark contrast to the prevailing attitudes of the 1990s.
Our distaste for or discernment of technologically enhanced reality is solidifying our stance in a base reality[26], with our nostalgia and longing for the past acting as a form of gravity, grounding us against future ideals.
This longing for the past is primarily being driven by Gen-Z. It could be the result of our Generational Recycling theory, manifested by their affinity for thrifting. But to be nostalgic, you must have memories of what you are nostalgic for. So what happens when you are nostalgic for a time in which you were not present?
Or perhaps we are haunted[27] - not nostalgic - by the past, through the echoes of trends, culture, and concepts that live forever in our internet history, and the rotation of suggested content driven by algorithms. While the promise of women having it all in 1994 felt like a false forecast, the transformative power of technology was not.
In our fast-paced, high-fidelity world, we often find ourselves drawn to the past, seeking solace in nostalgia. This inclination may stem from burnout in our current 'hi-fi' lives. By embracing 1990s fashion in our daily attire, we subtly distance ourselves from contemporary trends, opting instead for a more grounded, 'lo-fi' aesthetic.
Nostalgia serves as a means to dial down our lives to a lo-fi vibration—a comforting background noise or collective framework of memories. We retreat to this familiar space when trying to make sense of the present or, perhaps, to avoid it altogether.
Rejecting a hi-fi lifestyle isn't an act of rebellion but rather a maintenance of a lo-fi baseline. This approach flattens our experiences, blurring the lines between work and leisure against a backdrop of unfolding global crises. We can draw parallels between this blending of everyday life and the popular music genre exemplified by playlists like '24/7 Lo-Fi Hip Hop Beats To Study and Relax To'[28].
These ambient soundtracks have replaced traditional radio, providing a constant audio companion throughout our day.
Much like how basic fashion offers a comfortable refuge from trend-chasing, these lo-fi playlists create a separate sonic space distinct from our hi-fi lives.
It's as if we've wired ourselves to maintain an internal 'second screen'—a background soundtrack perpetually playing in an unknown corner of our mind. This creates a tier of content behind an imaginary fourth wall in our brains, one we're hesitant to breach.
This secondary lo-fi wavelength remains ever-present, akin to the comfort and constancy of everyday leggings.
We can exemplify the difference between hi-fi and lo-fi nostalgia in fashion with the recent rebrand of Australian brand, P.E. Nation. The brand had found global success through their bright, punchy activewear that was built on concepts of retro, looking to the bolder-side of nostalgic fashion references, such as the late 1990s and early 2000s. Their brand focused on activewear with elements of performance, with brand signatures of color blocking against backdrops ranging from seaside to ski. In July 2024, P.E. Nation relaunched their brand with RE/CREATION, wiping their socials clean along with a re-structuring of their company. The collection name suggests that both work and play have elements of recreation, as the casualization of work has blurred the boundaries between the two, and therefore there is less of a need to be performance-driven, but instead, recreation-driven.
The press release nicely sums up many strategies employed by minimalist and lifestyle-driven brands today, with this brand value manifesting into product via simplicity, resonating with consumers through this new brand direction as a vision they can make their own:
The new collection stylistically brings together blazers with activewear, bomber jackets with sheer skirts, and while it may have been at the forefront a couple of years ago, you can't help but make aesthetic connections. It's a little bit Yeezy, a little bit Donna Karan's '7 easy pieces', a little bit Kith 2017. But that's ok. P.E. Nation's goal is not to be original, but to serve their already loyal fan base, bringing the macro trend of minimalism into the arena they are already in, across products they have already validated because they already own a version of them. It's a sum-of-all-parts approach to nostalgic minimalism, digested as new by their audience who are perhaps sitting on a collection of color blocked leggings and seeking something new. The new P.E. Nation is not something to get noticed in at the gym or on your run - it's strategized to signal affiliation with a contemporary attitude to style, and be muted enough that it can be blended into trend in a subtle way. This collection of basics allows consumers to be anonymous with what they're doing or not doing, by wearing a more neutral mix of clothing that is not quite athleisure, but a fashioned activewear.
Through P.E. Nation's rebrand, perhaps we can see how there is a 'correct', 'commercial' or 'conservative' way to play into nostalgia, whereby committing to a nostalgic trend like '90s minimalism with its plain aesthetic is the very thing that can speak to wider lifestyle narratives, and appeal to a broader scope of audience.
Are we, in the present, simply stuck in a context collapse between a storied pre-post-internet past, and forecasted futures? Are we in limbo between meeting our fate of Utopia or Dystopia due to our habits of post-rationalization, and turning everything into a discourse or content trend?
Nostalgia and Historical Inaccuracy:
Late-Capitalism and Fashion production:
Content Creation and Social Media:
Digital Footprints and Self-Expression:
Quiet Luxury and Loud Consumption:
Choice Collapse in Consumer Behavior:
Spearheaded by headline-making celebrities wearing vintage pieces on the red carpet and social media moments by content creators, the art of referencing continues to persist as fashion and trend revival have become both publicity and product strategies.
Rooted in nostalgia - a powerful emotion of longing - referential fashion moments extend conversations through a trifold narrative: what was then, what it looks like now, and what it could be.
However, this phenomenon often leads to another type of context collapse, particularly in online debates about originality and credit. Commenters argue not just about the accuracy or authenticity of the revived moment, item, or idea, but also about who first shared the scan, posted the Pinterest pin, or mood-boarded the vibe. Ironically, they often forget that they are all likely seeing the same thing, thus contributing to its reappearance.
This paradox exemplifies the true context collapse of social media and fashion: nothing is by us, and yet everything is by us.
Our collective nostalgia for the past keeps us tethered to the pretext of the 21st century. The '90s have become void of time as a measured element - they're simply the pretext of the world as we know it, encompassing the entirety of the 21st century. Everything before that becomes null, as traces of fashion throughout past eras were also present in the 1990s. Our current and future iterations of those ideals will always be viewed through the filter of 1990s modernity.
There can never be pure nostalgia, only edited, translated, and appropriated versions. We don't just long for nostalgia in a way that's compartmentalized in the past; we experience it in our present. Our longing for the past lives on as it's desired in the present and perhaps willed and planned for its return in our future.
After culture, after capitalism, after the democratization of access – we find ourselves in limbo.
As we navigate the complexities of our current cultural landscape, caught between nostalgia for the past and uncertainty about the future, we find ourselves in a state that mirrors neither the idealized Utopia nor the dreaded Dystopia.
Derived from the Greek "mesos" (middle) and "topos" (place), Mesotopia represents a societal state that occupies the middle ground between extremes. It embodies our collective experience of being 'stuck in the middle' - simultaneously clinging to the past through nostalgia while tentatively reaching for an uncertain future.
Mesotopia is characterized by:
Unlike the unrealistic extremes of Utopia or Dystopia, Mesotopia offers a more authentic framework for understanding our current condition. More than just a descriptive concept - it could be a fundamental truth. The constant recycling and reinterpretation of trends, the simultaneous embrace and rejection of technology, and the ongoing negotiation between individuality and collective identity all point to a Mesotopian state as the natural condition of contemporary culture.
Rather than striving for an unattainable perfection or resigning ourselves to inevitable decline, we can embrace the dynamic, often contradictory nature of our cultural landscape. This Mesotopian perspective allows us to find meaning and innovation in the tension between nostalgia and progress, tradition and disruption, the physical and the digital.
The concept of Mesotopia invites us to reconsider our approach to trend forecasting, cultural analysis, and even personal style.
It challenges us to find significance in the in-between spaces, the unresolved questions, and the ongoing dialogues that define our era.
In doing so, we may discover that the truth of our cultural moment lies not in any fixed destination, but in the journey itself - a perpetual navigation of the middle ground we call Mesotopia.
Perhaps if we intellectualized less - dare I say, forecasted less - we wouldn't feel trapped into making conclusive positive or negative reads. Just like basics fashion, a pared-back 'underpromise, over-deliver' approach to forecasting might leave us more content rather than disillusioned, allowing us to navigate the world with greater ease and authenticity.
In examining the success of basic clothing brands, we delve into the landscape where they flourish across markets. This section spotlights how the rapid saturation of trends and a focus on minimalist, contemporary essentials have leveled the basics playing field. The result? An expanded capacity for brands to resonate with consumers while adapting minimalist codes to fit a wide array of clothing categories and functions.
As the 2010s drew to a close, trend forecasters eagerly anticipated a 'roaring '20s' – a hopeful echo of the 1920s post-war boom. Despite political turbulence during Trump's presidency and sluggish post-recession economic growth, many envisioned a positive era ahead. The murder of George Floyd in 2020 catalyzed a wave of corporate diversity initiatives, though their long-term impact remains questionable four years later.
When COVID-19 struck, disrupting these optimistic projections, forecasters pivoted. They framed the global pause as a ‘blank page for new beginnings.’ While the message felt insensitive, this perspective wasn't entirely misplaced. The stillness of lockdowns sparked profound discussions about the fashion industry, environmental concerns, and societal values. This period of reflection gave rise to 'big think talk culture,' which found its home on platforms like Clubhouse and fueled the explosive growth of podcast culture as we know it today.
As the world emerged from the pandemic's shadow, its effects proved far more complex and far-reaching than anticipated. Economies, social structures, and future outlooks were reshaped in unprecedented ways. The pandemic's economic impact was far from uniform, resulting in what economists call a K-shaped recovery[29]. In this scenario, the top 1% of earners were largely insulated from the pandemic's financial fallout, often benefiting from the stock market's swift recovery and the shift to remote work. In contrast, the middle class faced significant challenges, with many sliding into lower income brackets. This widening wealth gap effectively hollowed out the middle class, pushing a substantial portion into the lower market. Consequently, serious concerns arose about long-term social stability and the need for more equitable economic policies.
Post-pandemic, the middle class experienced a bifurcation: some managed to level up into the upper-earning class bracket (often dependent on their business category), while others were pushed down into lower-income brackets. This inequality resulted in the share of adults who live in middle-class households falling from 61% in 1971 to 50% in 2021. This divergence effectively emptied the traditional middle market, creating a more polarized economic landscape.
Interestingly, where these two income brackets meet is in the middle – or at least in how they present themselves. While the rich continue to have access to luxury goods and spaces, trends like "Stealth Wealth" and "Quiet Luxury" have given rise to a 'Premium Mediocre[30]' approach to shopping and dressing. This phenomenon reflects a complex interplay between economic realities and social presentation, where individuals across different income levels aspire to project a similar aesthetic, blurring the visible lines between economic classes.
While economic and fashion market conditions are constantly evolving, at present, there is an interesting 'middle' emerging, as a result of this K-shaped economy:
Social media has revolutionized the relationship between fashion brands and consumers, challenging traditional wholesaling models and rendering obsolete traditional fashion media and their role in introducing new fashion to consumers. This direct-to-consumer approach via social platforms not only streamlines operations but also fosters more personalized customer experiences by sidestepping conventional distribution channels. As fashion brands increasingly leverage social media's vast reach and targeted capabilities, they're redefining marketing strategies and distribution methods, making traditional wholesaling practices less relevant in the digital age.
The social media landscape has transformed consumer engagement in terms of market excitement and prosumer knowledge discourse. While an online conversational trend of 'If You Know You Know' has not replaced the feeling of 'hype' previously associated with streetwear, it has become an evolution of this buzzy type of consumer engagement.
We place the above exploration into to the below:
A stripped-back approach to contemporary casualwear and basics, along with the integration of denim and conceptual interpretations of minimalism, brings together the below matrix of basics-focused brands. There is a congestion of brands within the Contemporary to Mid-Market range, representing a 'middle-ground' where both upper-luxury consumers and mass-market consumers often meet. This is a general overview, with many brands not included – also keep in mind that the very exercise of placing brands on a matrix is subjective, and each brand's placement could be subject to change.
* Made in good fun, please don’t come for us (although, we do have receipts...)
From our exploration of new 'middle grounds', it is evident that a pared-back modernist minimalism is a way to bridge our place at a crossroads of the past and future, and our tension between opting into traditional trend cycles or a trend-less basics approach. This is also a result of the industry-at-large, and the creative leaders within it, perhaps looking at the same information or sources of inspiration more than ever before.
Minimalism, as a design ethos and concept is intentionally or unintentionally applied to fashion design, product development, merchandising, and marketing strategy. It’s a way to create a point of intellectualism within design, as if minimalism is the result of a considered, thoughtful process, or on the flipside, as a starting point to streamline products to optimize accessibility and versatility.
Either interpretation sells goods to the consumer, in their own arena from luxury to a ‘premium mediocre’ middle-market to a highly commercial mass-market.
Through our analysis of basics in the marketplace and a new 'middle' market that presents itself as premium mediocre, we observe a binary classification at the center of our K-shaped economic recovery: products can be tagged as either Trend or Non-Trend.
This dichotomy extends to the concept of 'minimalism' across the brand matrix, either appreciated in its true conceptual form as minimalist, or as a diluted form as basic, typically tagged as such in product identity and not in larger trend messages. For example, the slip dress, which can be categorized as a basic item, is more frequently described as a iconic, or essential dress since it has trend connections to minimalism and the 1990's. Conversely, simple leggings or a bralette are not considered minimalist but basic.
Beyond price architecture, product context informs this 'basics binary,' whereby an item within a category can be perceived as either a trend or non-trend product.
Viewing basics within the context of our K-shaped economic recovery and a basics brand matrix reveals how contemporary consumers have adopted a basics-first sensibility to navigate the Trend/Non-Trend spectrum and remain safely in the middle, mediocre or not. This approach conveniently blurs the spectrum from minimalism to basic into a singular aesthetic profile, allowing consumers to shape-shift between Quiet Luxury and being downright basic with just a sharp tailored blazer or a t-shirt whose value is dictated by its brand.
The search for personal style within this common middle-ground means that contemporary consumers are navigating this landscape with dual intentions. They shop in communal brand universes for connection via uniformity while simultaneously seeking uniqueness for individuality. By remixing both trend and non-trend items, they attempt to achieve a semblance of personal style or individuality, aiming to avoid the 'basic' label while dressing in basics – or so they believe.
Exploring the paradox of consumer identity in contemporary fashion reveals a tension between embracing popular basics and avoiding the 'basic' label. This struggle pits conformity against individuality as fashion-conscious consumers navigate trends while nurturing their desire for personal style, all in an effort to honor the notion that we are all unique—or perhaps uniquely basic.
Being called cheugy, corny, cringe - or downright basic - is a cardinal sin in fashion circles. It confirms conformity to mass commercial trends or status as a fashion victim. Originality and algorithmic independence mark the ultimate cool, though differentiating oneself grows increasingly challenging.
Amidst a cost-of-living crisis, tough job market, and inescapable product cycles, being basic has become a safeguard. It's a way to opt out of micro-trends and embrace a default dressing style - a uniform for our uneasy times. This approach favors being a citizen over a 'fashion person': chic, perhaps creative, but definitely not -core. Not quite basic, but anonymous.
Basics dressing reflects the mundanity of ordinary life: logging in, lying flat, walking around.
It's a safe incognito mode in an unpredictable economy, accepting that we needn't be extraordinary. This style caters to non-influencers who don't require a fashioned life. While the cerulean blue monologue still resonates, it's the ambivalence to effort that defines basics dressing and should guide the fashion industry. The direct-to-consumer approach to trends and branding, fueled by online discourse, has diminished the romance of product discovery. As Jared Spool noted, good design is invisible, while Paul Klee spoke of art making the invisible visible. Both concepts apply to basics dressing.
Consumers shouldn't need to know their clothes' trend attachments. The absurdity lies in everyday people identifying their basics as "Coastal Grandmother" or “Recesseion-core”. Product descriptions overflow with buzzwords like "premium elevated essential iconic 90's fit t-shirt," reflecting how capitalism and social media have transformed our relationship with clothing.
As trend fatigue sets in, tension emerges between embracing basics and chasing trend leadership. Discussions around 'under-consumption-core' - essentially regular, non-upper-class consumption - show fashion conformists becoming more discerning about clothing essentials. They're warming to 'basic' without the label, recognizing that being a fashion 'normie' or simply a citizen is key to understanding the commercial market.
While businesses pursue fashion-forward consumers, they often overlook the basics-focused segment, generalizing their desires with lazy 'blanding' to broaden reach. Yet, it's these consumers, who seek clothing over fashion, who have shaped contemporary casual dressing. They deserve more credit as the discerning consumers who drive the shift from skinny to baggy jeans, and therefore deserve more design and creativity, rather than being the recipient of umbrella ideas such as 'everyday essential basics'. Especially since their wealthier counterparts would never be called basic, or sold such ideals. Sure, a modernity or minimalism has driven basics from a design point of view and is still the favorable concept. However, since the success of basics stems from the purchasing of clothing over trends, the prioritization in basics strategy must be one of creativity and innovation, rather than one of marketability. Not everything can be premium or essential.
Ultimately, buying basic doesn't equate to being basic, especially as inflated views of a trend-filled life lose relevance. In a multi-crisis world demanding basic survival, who can afford to be a trend chameleon?
Basics dressing favors conventional body types. While this bias starts in production - brands typically sample from a standardized size US 0-4 (dependent on the brand and their budget) - the last reported average size in the US is a US16. This stark contrast highlights a significant disconnect between industry standards and consumer reality. Despite this, our collective gaze gravitates toward celebrity influencers as aspirational imagery, and dressing in basics has come to emphasize the body.
Just like how a 'no-makeup' look highlights the features and skin of the face, resulting in a normalization of cosmetic procedures, basics-driven looks of tops and jeans highlight the body.
Baggy jeans appear baggiest on thin frames, and baby t-shirts fit as intended when one's torso resembles that of a child. This phenomenon creates an implicit pressure to conform to a specific body type, often unattainable for many.
Many have called out the dangers of women's diet culture reverting to that of the late '90s and early 2000s, which emphasized being extremely thin. This was a time when low-slung jeans drove Atkins diet trends, wheatgrass shots, and lemon-maple-syrup detox drinks. For instance, the popularity of shows like "Friends" popularized a look that was achievable primarily through extreme dieting. Today, 'that girl' routines and baggy jeans have replaced this phenomena, masked as a wellness lifestyle or an effortless look. Social media influencers promote 5 AM routines and green smoothies, presenting an image of health that often disguises restrictive behaviors.
However, it must be noted that unless you are a thin person, basics are not so effortless, as they require maintenance of the body for basics to fit in the desired way.
A simple white t-shirt and jeans combo, often touted as universally flattering, can become a source of anxiety for those who don't fit the idealized body type. While basics seem simple, they can be seen as a canvas of hedonism, a result of consumers focusing their efforts on their bodies. Basics (or a boxy t-shirt with oversized jeans) become the draped curtains that highlight this very effort – reflecting an afforded leisure to workout and spend at wellness establishments like Erewhon and Equinox. The $4.5 trillion global wellness industry thrives on this intersection of fashion and body ideals, selling not just clothes but a lifestyle.
This exploration of basics fashion reveals a complex interplay between consumerism, body image, and societal expectations. While the simplicity of basics may appear democratic, it often reinforces narrow beauty standards. As we navigate these trends, it's crucial to critically examine the messages they convey about our bodies and worth, especially in the context of basics, where their affordable, accessible nature implies something priceless.
The creator economy has normalized the over-presence of sponsored content, the discussion of trends, and 'inspirational' assets, cultivating a fashion persona identification that is intertwined with the consumption of products. While ambivalent consumers still exist, the very marketing strategies and trend forecasting habits of industry professionals have seeped into consumer culture and lingo, with content posted hand-in-hand with marketing speak. A sort of consumption triple speak where marketing, trend, and product all hit the consumer simultaneously is evident. It's no longer 'minimalism' for example, it's 'Wide leg Quiet Luxury pants for the minimalist girlies'.
Through this mass marketization of trends, the struggle for trend authenticity and authority is pushing trend leaders to turn to personal style to assert their position more forcefully.
When celebrities, influencers, and industry creatives are equipped with the same digital mediums to source references as citizen consumers, there is a tension of power. This can be seen in the way UGC or User Generated Content creators are able to build communities more effectively in some ways through 'mainstream individuality' versus an established influencer or celebrity who receives backlash for their attempt to be uniquely basic or 'regular' in a mainstream arena, sprinkled with products they are trying to sell in a somewhat organic manner. Kylie Jenner's make-up videos in her car come to mind.
The hierarchy of influence is no longer linear. We are no longer collectively looking upwards at the same thing.
While it may seem like social media culture has reduced subcultures to commodities to buy into, it has also made tapping into trends much more flexible, allowing consumers to opt in and out as they please.
This has resulted in a paradox of expressing individuality through common items or online sensibilities. We want to be independent but not alone in the world of fashion. We want to be uniquely basic in the mainstream world of trends, not too unique to the point of alienation, but unique enough that we don't appear as a fashion victim – buying into too many trends is bad taste, but not participating in any is even worse.
To 'be in fashion' is endless work. The superficial nature of image and appearance has reached the everyperson, normalizing the idea that every body is a brand or a curated image in the world of social media and digital identity. Life online for most means that an element of personal branding has become an important means of asserting yourself. Aligning with a style collective to present yourself with those values feels somewhat unnecessary, in the same way a young person might pick a fandom and allow it to take over the aesthetic of all of their belongings. However, it's also become a way to build your individual universe for the algorithm to feed into, or for you to find your following, or your tribe.
This digital fashion ecosystem extends to celebrities or those who want to become one. By asserting their relevance through girl-next-door basics, celebrities can appear to have aspirational, achievable, and enviable style all at the same time - or as 'uniquely basic' - they're able to draw in audiences and earn affiliate earnings in between. Fashion has become an asset to leverage to cultivate a following, fandom, and hopefully, a universe. Their fashion choices blur the lines between organic preference and sponsored content, raising questions about authenticity. For instance, was Katie Holmes' viral Khaite knit twinset a personal purchase, a gift, or a sponsored moment? Has looking up Hailey Bieber's outfit tags on Instagram via her street stylist become just another way to shop?
The future of fashion identity may well depend on our ability to find meaning and genuine self-expression within the paradox of being uniquely basic.
We identify five key basics personas who are shaping the way contemporary casual fashion is worn today. They are addressing the art of mainstream individuality through their personal style, and represent the cohort of consumers they embody. We represent these consumers with their ideal social media influencer.
The ubiquitous nature of social media, staged paparazzi photoshoots, professional stylists, and PR teams has made it nearly impossible to decipher genuine style. This confusion influences the audience's assessment of authenticity and approval, blurring the line between aspirational minimalism and mere basics.
While it's becoming harder to distinguish authentic style in the age of social media, we can view the phenomenon of someone's style through the binary lens of whether they are dressing for a public audience, or for their private self – or at least start from there. We can view basics fashion as an equalizer for consumers across the spectrum of Curated to Creative, and as a baseline to add the lifestyles, cultures, and values of the market that they represent to better focus a strategy. At the same time, through the execution or exploration of personal style, a point of uniqueness can be portrayed.
After all, it's the idea that everybody is unique that is selling a t-shirt, not the idea that we are all the same.
We explore these consumer personas in an imagined landscape of product concepts versus consumer. The 'Design Classicist' is not included, since this persona typically lives outside of trend or concept cycles. By mapping out the personas in relation to the key concepts and composition of the basics, we're able to understand the granular factors that contribute to the overarching aesthetics of basics today.
What else could we be, or what else should we be dressing for?
Basics represent versatility, affordability, and practicality in a time of recession and uncertainty. They're also a way to express personal style in an effortless, nonchalant sort of way that doesn't lean on a message of trend, therefore proving one's stylistic integrity or power the most.
Whether we're working from home, or wish we were, dressing basic can be seen as a preference and not just as a default, or even a failure, of being a person of the times.
Yes, there is still an effort, often an audience too, but generally no pressure to perform with basics dressing, unlike dressing for the workplace, for example. It's become a symbol of the leisurely bourgeoisie, except, instead of walking a turtle around on a leash, we're walking around in plush plastic slides and stopping to buy little treats. What else could we be but basic in basics, in this ordinary life we've built for ourselves? It's like a reward.
With the influencer economy and top-to-bottom influential hierarchies of the past, this expansion of 'aspiration' has made the chatter of trend twice as loud, with consumers either preferring to opt out, or re-branding the entire thing as minimalist. Consumers are either resisting the trend, or accepting it, but either way, they are in basics as the dress can be the result of either scenario.
In these uncertain times, basics offer us a canvas for self-expression, a shield against the noise of fast fashion (although many basics thrive from this arena), and a comfortable cocoon as we navigate our changing world. They're not just a fashion choice, but a reflection of our times—a practical, stylish response to the question, "How do we dress for a world in flux?"
So here we are, basic in our basics, finding our own little luxuries and comforts in a chaotic economy. And honestly, could there be a more fitting uniform for the autonomous ordinariness of our lives right now?
Breaking down basics fashion from a production perspective to build them back up into an original brand universe, or into your own existing business.
Launching a successful basics brand or collection requires a paradoxical blend of simplicity and innovation. In this sea of sameness, it's become integral to define a brand purpose before anything else, especially as a preference for minimalism flattens aesthetics beyond mere blanding.
This over-simplification of design, in an effort to be minimalist, modern, or even peaceful, has resulted in items feeling like Montessori products for adults, extending far beyond fashion.
Padded or inflated furniture and homewares feel like baby-proofed objects. Minimalist sex toys appear gentrified for the home. The removal of shine in car paint colors has resulted in starkly muted vehicles that sometimes resemble roaming blobs in the street.
Color is disappearing from the world, and we're opting to choose this Fordist fantasy. We prefer neutral color palettes and sans serif fonts for legibility and sameness above everything else in an effort to ensure peace in our digitally cluttered world, and to find our IRL selves around organic forms, or our understanding of nature - despite it sweltering away in the heat.
Perhaps this phenomenon is more than just a sign of our recessionary times, or our fatigue with trends. It's a merch-ification of everyday life. It may reflect the fact that consumers are no longer shopping in department stores, but rather within brand universes. We want merchandise that is uniform, or presents a taste singularity. The research, curation, and effort involved is that of a discerning customer who has done the work to distinguish a unique value proposition of the merchandise of a brand, not the merchandising of a broader, corporate entity.
Furthermore, we could posit that basics are an extension of a merch collection. We've surpassed the idea of merch being a simple tote bag, and with print-on-demand capabilities and manufacturing-as-a-service platforms like Pietra, the possibilities have expanded tremendously.
Basics also act as a preliminary brand extension, or way to initiate a baseline with a consumer market. A brand with a cult following, such as Djerf Avenue, can win over their consumer with a new 'core essential blazer', but this call to action rings empty when there is no additional value proposition other than the fact that the item is a Djerf Avenue piece.
Like the endless products trickling through our lifestyles, so is the merch of our lives.
While it may seem superfluous to ascribe every product as a 'lifestyle', marketing has attached lifestyles and consumption to almost everything. Food is now often marketed as merchandise of brands, and they may even have it while you're there. The millennial tablescape of avocado toast is now a brightly lit ensemble of tunacado sandwiches in hot pink sleeves. A Diptyque candle on coffee table books is left in pristine condition. Smoothies are more than a blended slush when they're from Erewhon.
In an oversaturated, over-simplified market where white tees pile up on merchandised tables, launching a basics brand or capsule requires more than good intentions or buzzwords like 'modern' and 'minimalist'. It's a strategic mix of purpose, values, and smart workflow that ensures products land with a market, not in a landfill.
You have to consider that basics pieces are known items. Consumers have expectations of what they are, what they should do, and how long they should last, for example.
To warrant a purchase, there needs to be an element of newness to secure a buy-in, or maybe if you're lucky, a fandom. To be best equipped to stand out in an overcrowded market of basics, it's essential to adopt a unique combination of elements.
A values checklist can be comprised of the below:
Launching a successful basics brand or collection in today's market is anything but basic. It's a delicate balance of meeting established expectations while offering something new.
Pick at least two to start, at least three to get going, at least five to survive. Solidify your values, find your purpose, and maybe, your basics will become anything but.
A general look at building a basics brand or capsule of products.
From our learnings, we can zoom out and build a connected 'brain map' of basics-focused inventory. These products are typically incorporated into an 'essentials' or minimalist-focused brand. These brands exist across our Marketplace matrix, and can be focused on Womenswear, Menswear, Denim, or everything above.
Build your basics with a pyramid approach to design. While other concepts build on emerging details and points of interest such as the ruffle, basics adhere to the traditional approach to apparel design, starting with silhouettes first.
Illustrating how the above strategic planning trickles down into the creative process, typically started with a moodboard.
Today, a t-shirt - or even a hoodie - can cost less than a coffee. Fashion, and the romance of it all, has moved fashion creativity into the future. 3D design, the swiftness of print-on-demand services, and even emerging 'design-as-a-service' companies have made it even easier for anyone with a bright idea to turn a thought into a tangible, marketable thing in an instant, without having to answer to anyone.
While 3D design software has reduced manufacturing costs to some degree, minimizing the number of samples to be made and shipped between countries, and breaking down language barriers, there simply has not been enough innovation from the ethical and sustainability standpoint - at least anything significant enough to prevent a fashion item from costing less than $10.
Past strategies such as Everlane's transparent pricing and showcasing of their factory practices aren't newsworthy or particularly interesting anymore. Ultimately, products need to be interesting first. Sustainability and ethics are now viewed as somewhat of a bonus post-purchase, with consumers knowing that they can go about their day guilt-free.
Rarely do sustainability or ethics warrant a purchase on these principles alone, and if they do, they appeal to a much smaller market than you would imagine.
Fashion is not food – no one is buying something just because it's organic.
Gen-Z is adamant that sustainability is important to them, but they were the very generation to spearhead micro-trends and propel Shein into relevance. This double-speak reflects the true allure of fashion as a bright, shiny thing that, once we're captivated, is hard to resist.
We have outpaced our conscience. We reason the creation and consumption of more products through the guise of merch (it's more than a t-shirt) or needing more basics (I don't have enough or I don't have the right one). While it's been contested whether fashion is or is not the third most polluting industry after fossil fuels and agriculture, the hard truth is that there is still much more important work to do. Work, that is more important than a new take on an elevated basic.
Reframing basic(s) in a complex world: our dive into basics fashion has shown that nothing should be truly basic anymore or, perhaps never was.
If the infinite possibilities of a basics universe expanded from a 'Big Bang' of fashion trends, they were driven by a market desire to be effortless, or to appear not as a victim to the trend feed. This desire led consumers to embrace an esoteric approach to making simple clothing fashionable through tags of minimalism and more. However, an inevitable 'Big Crunch' is imminent – or, perhaps, already here, in the form of a beige blindness. It’s resulting in a basics fatigue, and a fashion comfort zone that both consumers and the fashion system is recognizing, but finding it hard to leave.
The evolution of basics fashion is closely tied to broader trends in the industry. The commodification of streetwear around 2016, and its adoption by the luxury market, have resulted in basics existing across varying brand positionings. This shift reflects market demand, from fast fashion to luxury segments. While it's tempting to scoff, we can't simply roll our eyes at the price-tags of luxury basics. The luxury consumer is not shopping for basics in unfamiliar territory. They are happy to pay the price for the brand illusion, the marketing, the affiliation – all of it – so long as it's in reach of where they are, or where they want to be.
Despite this acceptance of basic basics in the luxury market, ethical concerns remain. What we can do, however, is question the ethics of luxury brands and their production of basics. This becomes especially important when we are able to connect the dots with our developed discernment, as a result of being chronically online. Ultimately, the issue lies not with the individual brands, but with the system itself.
Basics in fashion have and will endure the test of time. Sure, preferred styles of the moment shift from skinny to baggy, but so long as we have the same four limbs, the core pieces will stay the same. Basics embody modernity, practicality, accessibility, and wearability. They represent a concept of clothing that can live across a spectrum of brand positioning and consumer profiles.
A 'basics persuasion' can be outlined by the timeless principles of Pathos, Logos, and Ethos:
Pathos (Emotional Appeal) in basics evokes a sense of comfort and confidence, transcending fleeting trends. A well-worn t-shirt or perfectly fitted jeans speak to our need for stability and emotional authenticity. CK jeans may have faded, but the spirit of "Nothing comes between me and my Calvins" lives on in the quiet triumph of every perfect fit discovered.
Logos (Logical Appeal) manifests in the versatility and practicality of basics, offering enduring value and adaptability. A white button-down shirt can transition from casual to formal settings, making it a logical wardrobe choice.
Ethos (Ethical Appeal) is reflected in the focus on sustainability and timeless quality of well-made basics, aligning with evolving consumer values. This has gained importance as people question fast fashion and prioritize quality across price points. Brands emphasizing ethical production and durable materials appeal to conscientious consumers.
Together, these principles create a powerful trifecta: basics that feel good, make sense, and stand for something. This satisfies our emotional needs, practical requirements, and ethical concerns. It ensures basics remain relevant and desirable, unlike trend-driven pieces lacking this holistic appeal.
The enduring nature of basics in fashion is not merely a result of simplicity or dressing in default. Rather, it stems from their ability to flexibly fulfill our clothing needs with comfort and functionality typically a gaurantee. Basics act as a canvas for intangible attachments to culture, lifestyle, values, and more, as we move through life, basic or not.
Let’s not fool ourselves: The premiumization of everything has not improved life in this economy. The tide is rising, but where are the darn boats? When premium becomes the primary marketing tactic or even worse, our pervasive vibe, it leads The New York Times to question, “Is the whole economy gentrifying?” Life is not without its contradictions, which is how we end up with things like “premium basics.”
Worse yet, we’ve looked the gift horse in the mouth and now the marketplace for basics is rife with “timeless” and “classic” goods. It’s bad. Bad copy. Bad marketing. Once the usage ceases to be helpful or is meaningless to the point of confusion, we stumble and lose sight of what we were ever discussing. A t-shirt? A beverage? A piece of interior decoration? Words like “awesome” have lost a lot of their initial gravitas, but much was gained in bringing it to street level, so to speak. It doesn’t appear that “timeless,” “classic,” or even “essentials” have the same half-life. Fallen from the same word tree, they’ve gone to seed.
Along with the big nothing sandwich that is premiumization, recommendation culture has gotten out of hand. Sure, there’s value in a good rec, but mostly when it enables you to be small market in the big city. By “small,” I mean like a minor league baseball team. When reacted to or acted upon, a rec is a catalyst for taste making (hopefully your own). To literally try something on for size is incremental in getting to know whether it makes sense for you. You don’t have to like everything, go every place, be everywhere. Be small market in your discernment, joys, and trivialities, and you’ll be hard-pressed to ever let premium basics dictate your worldview again.
A big brand can be repeatably successful in being small market with its fans. There’s nothing inherently wrong or out of vogue with basics.
Just don’t market them like they’re dressed up in a way that’s implausible (no life-changing magic guarantee) or untoward (see: above discussion on premium mediocrity). It’s simple: get dressed, have a coffee, save the deck as a PDF, and turn off the lights when you leave the room. There’s work to do.
Back to Basics: The Hoodie Reflex was written, researched, and edited by Marian Park. Special thanks to Josh Pindjak for the art and design direction for this website.
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