The fast fashion epidemic

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Going shopping today sucks. 

Whether we’re shopping at Amazon, Shein, or another nameless boutique, all the options are the same—and it’s all fast fashion.

As consumers, we’re given no other alternatives. Even brands that weren’t considered “fast fashion” have morphed into fast fashion brands. Not only that, the clothing is so poorly made that it’s not made to last more than a season. 

Consumers and designers alike are burned out from the 20+ collections (or if you’re Zara or H&M, 50+) a year. We’re given more options than ever for places to purchase from. Every item, designer or not, has a dupe associated with it. 

We have more clothing than ever before, but we’ve never felt more lost with our personal style. The emphasis on being “trendy” has led to us all wearing the same styles, preventing us from expressing who we are through our clothing and building an intentionally curated wardrobe that is made to last. 

The industry is broken. Instead of it being a place to create wearable art, it’s turned into a slop factory that prioritizes the bottom line over anything else (let’s not even get into how bad for the environment).

But it’s not even a matter of money; it’s about relevancy. 

As consumers, we buy into it because we want to wear the latest trends, even if it means purchasing more clothing than we could possibly need. We’re afraid of being irrelevant, which is why we’re quick to jump on every trend. 

And it all starts with the death of the trend. 

I. Everything is a fad, nothing is a trend

By definition, a “fad” is something short-lived and temporary (think Stanley water bottles, Labubus, etc.). The lifecycle for fads can be as short as a month or stick around for as long as a year. 

On the other hand, trends last longer (think straight-legged jeans, Adidas Gazelles, etc.). The longevity of trends is usually one to three seasons. 

In 2025, we’re living from fad to fad. And it’s internet culture that’s dictating them. It’s whatever items are trending on TikTok at the moment. In turn, fads become the key driver of fast fashion. 

Fads move quickly, so if you don’t catch the wave in the moment, you immediately become irrelevant, outdated, and chuegy because everyone else has moved on to the next thing. 

And it makes it impossible to build wardrobes because we can’t carry them from one season to another. 

That said, when everything is a fad, no one is shaping fashion anymore. Everything looks the same. There’s no incentive to innovate with silhouettes, styles, etc. All the stores sell the same thing in the same color, so it’s hard to find anything different. 

In a concept coined “template chic,” we’ve built a global style consensus based on recycling the last thing that worked. Not because people don’t care, but because the industry has stopped asking them to. 

And it’s all thanks to a race to the bottom. 

II. The need for speed

Fast fashion has turned the fashion industry into one that values speed and scale over originality. 

The rise of ecommerce has reduced any barriers to entry for new stores to emerge. Where brick-and-mortar used to limit options, ecommerce enables anyone to launch a store and sell merchandise. Moreover, overseas manufacturing has made it cheaper for companies to produce clothing, resulting in lower prices for consumers. Ecommerce software makes the buying experience seamless and frictionless. 

It’s driving a flat aesthetic, not because of the brands, but because of the industry as a whole. The production schedule that was once reserved for ultra-fast fashion has been adopted by luxury brands that operated on a handful of collections a year. This has caused designers to become engines rather than creators. Instead of fostering creativity, the system is depleting it. 

Profit margins outweigh the promise of quality, with synthetic materials dominating production. Trends have dictated consumption, and rushed manufacturing has ensured that we can’t possibly keep up with the production of clothes and wear them. 

Fashion is now a mass market phenomenon. Consumers want something familiar and digestible, with anything complex scaring them off. Luxury fashion brands have fallen victim to this, becoming more accessible to the layperson than ever before. 

There’s no more exclusivity. What was once reserved for those with money and status is now being worn by anyone who can finance with Klarna, Afterpay, or a stimulus check (lines were out the door at my local Louis Vuitton during the pandemic, with everyone walking out with a brand new Neverfull). 

This has led to a massive overconsumption problem, with personal style the victim.

III. Overconsumption is killing personal style 

The trends change so frequently that we need to purchase more and more often to keep up with them, driving overconsumption. 

It’s not that we don’t want less; we just don’t want to be irrelevant. We want to be trendy and have the right clothing to signal trendiness—even if it means buying much more than we need, and at a lower quality. 

And we’d rather sacrifice our personal style to get it. 

When everyone is wearing the same thing, it doesn’t give anyone an indication of who you are and how you see the world. While we might wear the trendiest clothes, it doesn’t mean we have a sense of personal style or taste. 

It makes it impossible to build a wardrobe that feels like our own because we don’t have a true sense of what that is. We have to ask ourselves if we’re wearing the clothing for us or because we think it’ll earn us approval from our peers. 

You see this a lot with influencers. I’m sorry, but some of the clothing they wear is ugly AF. Moreover, they don’t give you a sense of who this person is, other than someone with money who can buy whatever is trending and afford a stylist who can pair these items together. 

Having more detracts from developing a style and perspective, and it doesn’t always mean better. 

You could argue that one has a better personal style on a more limited wardrobe because the constraints force you to get creative with styling. Limitations also give you the ability to develop a signature look because you’re rewearing the same pieces over and over again, building up an association with them. 

We’ve lost the art of investing in a curated wardrobe, one of high-quality clothing that fits and flatters us. When we look at photos of our parents and grandparents, one of the first thoughts we have is, “everyone is so well-dressed.” 

It’s because they had a curated, well-thought-out wardrobe. There was more discernment in their choices because they couldn’t afford or have room for endless options. Their choices had to be intentional. 

To develop personal style, you also need to develop interests outside of others’ opinions and the internet. And the more interesting you are, the better your personal style is, because it’s ultimately a physical representation of who you are and what you like. That’s why thrifting is a great filter for personal style—it gives you a chance to decide what you want based on what you find without validation from anyone else. 

IV. The death of the personal archive

Fast fashion clothing is meant to be disposable, to last as long as the fad lasts. It’s not meant for longevity. It’s meant to last for a season and be disposed of the next. 

It’s bad for the landfills and our conscience. 

It’s why we flock to vintage or second-hand clothing. It still lasts because it was designed to last. It’s crafted from natural materials that were needed to construct a long-lasting item (even something as simple as lining in a dress is hard to come by these days). 

There are few items that we keep for more than a few years. And the ones we do, we keep because we know we can’t find anything else that matches their quality. 

The disposable nature of clothing is also killing our personal archive. Our personal archive is more than just a collection of clothes; it’s the intimate curation of items that tell our story—items that we’ve chosen, worn, and loved. 

When we don’t have a personal archive, there is nothing for us to pass down to the next generation—clothing, handbags, jewelry, etc. Because nothing—clothing, jewelry, shoes, etc.—is designed to last. 

It seems as though we have two options: either continue to buy into the homogeneous fast fashion engine or to buy secondhand. 

Surely, there has to be a third option. Brands that are creative, sustainable, and that aren’t racing to the bottom. Brands that make you want to believe the fashion industry can revert to what it once was—a place of art, innovation, and beauty. 

Like everything else, the future of the industry is dismal. And it’ll be up to us to save it from itself. 

Alexa Phillips is a writer, brand & content strategist, and multi-passionate creative. She is the founder of Bright Eyes Creative, a Seattle-based brand consultancy and media company that helps founder-led brands and creatives design content-driven brand experiences and media.