Fashion in the era of social influence

It has been a minute, and as you can likely notice if you’ve been here, I’ve taken a break from regularly publishing content.

You see, I’ve taken a break from a lot of things recently.

Including: social media platforms across the board.

I felt really inundated by advertising, social content subtly (or overtly) asking me to buy. And the never-ending-churn of comparison fatigue.

While I see the good in connecting online and have met so many great people that way, I was left asking myself: what would I wear if I didn’t consume content? And what style do I witness in my day-to-day life?

As a result of dropping social and connecting only with my close circle, I’m seeing a lot of the same trends I’ve always seen for the past 18 or so months.

Mary Janes. Leopard. Chic effortless that we know takes an excruciating amount of maintenance to nail. And generally, pretty utilitarian vibes.

And the other question I’ve been ruminating on. . . does social influence still count if no one consumes what you’re doing?

I created The Style HistorianTM as a way to uncover stories about fashion or trends that I was interested in – either from media I was consuming, or observations I was seeing IRL.

And while I still love it, I had to take a creative break.

I don’t know what this space looks like moving forward – especially with the influx of AI – a topic for another day as a writer, one hundred per cent.

It’s also not lost on me that here I am, writing my thoughts about fashion lived offline, on an online platform.

But I really am curious – what are you wearing? And where are your buying decisions coming from?

For me, I’ve been shopping my closet more than ever.

Take today for example, I’m wearing a hand-me-down patterned skirt from my mother circa 2009, black flats that I’ve literally worn into the ground, a mock turtleneck (hi, almost October), and a cropped blazer from a few years ago.

The internet says that in a day, we as humans makeroughly 35,000 decisions*.

And for a (self-proclaimed) fashion girlie, I am often thinking about how my outfits play a role: in my feelings, confidence and overall psychology.

Steve Jobs was notorious for his black turtleneck uniform – with so many decisions to make about his Apple empire, what he wore was not something he wanted to dedicate his time and energy to.

That leaves me with my next curiosity: what do we get back if we stop spending our time scrolling?

For me: more energy, more time on the things I value, and more opinions I’m discovering myself.

If you’re still here, thank you for being here with me.

Not to quote the 38th Governor of California, but I’ll be back.

With gratitude,

Kate