For a generation enamoured with microtrends driven by social media, fast fashion is a symptom of a larger pattern. The ultra-fast production loop sustains itself — a trend comes along, is available widely in online stores and street markets almost immediately, and is replaced by a new one within a fortnight. Apparel manufacturing is adopting the Zara model — putting an item from the design desk to the shop floor in 15 days.

However, some fashion commentators argue that for a cohort so aware of trends, personal style has been superseded by algorithmic dressing. Apart from microtrends and the revival of certain aesthetics (like the 90s), the 2020s have not seen a stylistic innovation that would contribute to the decade’s fashion legacy. The new look is unmistakably associated with the 1950s — georgette sarees are shorthand for the Mumtaz drape of the 80s, and low-rise jeans are notorious representatives of Y2K fashion. Veteran fashion journalist Sujata Assomull sums up this current conundrum: “[Personal style] is not driven by an algorithm, nor is it about hopping from the clean-girl aesthetic to the mob-wife trend depending on what is currently dominating your feed.”

Reinterpreting trends

However, some experts opine that Gen Z’s fashion legacy would not be something tangible. Instead, their effect on the fashion cycle itself and the ability to reinterpret trends could come to be associated with the group. Meha Jayaswal, associate dean for fashion styling and fashion communication, Pearl Academy, says that Gen Z’s effect on fashion has upended how trends are interpreted — trends become viral, are then amplified by influencers, which in turn are picked up by mainstream media and designers.

Dynamic trend cycles and rapidly changing wardrobes could also signal that the cohort is not concerned with possession, and their legacy becomes not the garment or handbag itself, but the story behind it. “This generation is not going to leave behind a Banarasi saree or a patan patola. They will leave a story of when it was bought, or the story behind a denim jacket that they patchworked with the leftovers of something else,” she explains.

Beyond the algorithm

Other experts concur, while adding that consumption now is shaped by factors beyond the algorithm. Smita Som, assistant professor at National Institute of Fashion Technology, Delhi, says that the search for the next fashionable thing is not new. Moreover, being born into and growing up in an era of constant crises has imbued the cohort with “caution and a lot of hopelessness because of the way things are today”. In volatile times, the value of a garment or possession lies not in its permanence, but in the opportunity to reinterpret and personalise it.

Sudha Dhingra, a senior textiles professor at NIFT-Delhi, echoes the sentiment, specifying that the pandemic shifted things for the group. Value is instead attributed to craftsmanship transparency, upcycled family materials, customised modifications, and pieces backed by authentic historical or human-centric storytelling. Citing the example of her own students, she explains that they expressed interest in reviving weaving techniques like Baluchari. Fast fashion remains more immediately accessible because of its affordability. Carefully crafted garments, however, become aspirational purchases.

This growing interest in craftsmanship is also reflected among fashion creators documenting contemporary style. Fashion content creator Manisha Malik, known for her videos of breaking down Bollywood style and Indian craft, says that her most popular series is on restyling vintage fashion. She reveals that her Gen Z audience gets inspired by her content on Indian textiles, and she has interacted with subscribers who restyled vintage sarees from their mothers or grandmothers. Indian fashion has long influenced global trends — chintz and seersucker are anglicised versions of cheent and shir-o-shakkar. As it visibly makes its way on global runways, interest in such crafts also increases. “It is very personal, relatable, and evokes pride,” she says.

Personalised twists

Members of the cohort are aware of the critiques they receive. Jhanvi Bhatia, a Gen Z fashion content creator, explains the phenomenon — while Gen Z is trend-aware, they also like to put their personalised twist on trends. While keeping up with trends, she attempts to add her personalised twist to them — for the polka dot trend, she styled a polka dot saree, a garment she has a special attachment to. “If I’m following the trend, I also have my own language to it,” she says. She also highlights her affinity for traditional crafts — the recent popularity of angi blouses makes her feel connected to her Rajasthani lineage, as well as a “sense of community”. She adds that Gen Z’s fashion legacy might be the way they upcycle vintage pieces with fresh interpretations — “modern silhouettes mixed with traditional crafts.”

Everyday Gen Z women are similarly aware of the paradox they face. Pia (name changed on request), a young professional based in Mumbai, tells FE that while 50% of her style inspiration comes from her For You Page, she also tries clothing from different trends to develop her personal style. Rhea (name changed), a young professional from Delhi, states that her distinct personal style is supplemented from bold outfit ideas on social media. Both shop through online platforms like Myntra; however, quality remains an important factor.

Rhea speaks of a recurring urge to shop as she frequently feels bored of the pieces in her wardrobe, but Pia states that she would rather spend on experiences than clothing. The latter adds that as fabric quality has degraded with the advent of fast fashion, a possible heirloom could be Gen Z’s social media archive itself — “similar to old photo albums, just far more accessible”.