Mass-Produced Millennials

Mass-Produced Millennials

-SJB

  • 4 min read

“Check these out,” a blonde twenty-something says to her friend, peering over mirrored Dior sunglasses. She gestures to her jeans, a faded light blue, dark denim fringes hanging from the bottom like jellyfish tentacles. They’re New York City chic, and match her Fendi backpack and Commes de Garçons sneakers perfectly.

Her friend snaps her gum in approval.

“Ugh, it was like awesome,” the blonde girl elaborates. “His parents were cleaning out their entire attic, and they had all this old stuff, and I was like ‘I’ll take it!’ That’s where I got these.”

Her friend stares at the jeans, still snapping her gum. “Niceee.”

In the past, taking and wearing “old stuff,” commonly known as thrift shopping, was a good way to save money. But the girl’s jeans stuck out in contrast to the rest of her outfit, their vintage quality suddenly overshadowed by the abundance of designer attire. Was thrift shopping still just a way of buying inexpensive clothing? Or was there now a different allure to it?

According to NARTS, the National Association of Resale and Thrift Shops, the thrift shop market has been growing rapidly over the past two years. Undeniably, this generation has a committed love for all things used. The only question is: why?

NARTs proposed a theory that would appeal to the vegan in all of us: that modern-day Americans, along with their Equinox memberships and Matcha teas, care about the environment, and want to recycle used clothing. We currently have the highest recycling rate of all time, and blue bins sit next to green bins like garbage’s newly Paleo cousin.

62328FDD-E46A-481B-B736-95025146DBA0.jpg

But most Americans toss away their recyclables without a second thought, the act only perpetuated by the presence of the recycling bin. The proof? Along with having the highest recycling rate, this generation also has the highest rate of waste. Although these two facts may seem contradictory, a familiar scene is a New Yorker chucking their morning coffee cup into a “bottles only” recycling bin. Erin Schumaker, published in the Huffington Post in 2016, states that most Americans don’t recycle because it isn’t a convenient option, and that the environment is not an overall priority. Unfortunately, using thrift shops as a means of recycling is mainly a myth.

I went to New York City for answers. Home to some of the largest and most visited thrift shops, the thrift shop culture in New York City is quickly gaining popularity. Before every college party or event, the shelves are wiped clean, thrifters piling into the stores like a bridesmaids around a wedding bouquet. I asked the biggest thrifters I know a single question: why do they jump into piles of used clothing?

1097C765-B683-4D34-AA40-1AC631482D08.jpg

Expecting a variety of answers regarding prices, I was surprised at the results.

One shrugged, stating, “I like cool vintage stuff.”

Another was excited by my curiosity, and remarked, “The stuff is so unique.”

Asking thrifter after thrifter, I noticed that they didn’t mention money until at least a couple sentences in. The focus of each conversation was the originality of thrift shop clothing.

In a society where everything is mass-produced, are thrifters just looking for a sense of uniqueness? Was it as simple as the consequence of a loss of individuality?

Kanye West seems to think so. In 2015, he accessed the millennial “thrift-shop” mindset, and released a sneaker that would shape the future of the fashion industry. The “Yeezys,” distributed by Adidas, were sold at just $200 a pop.

Despite its price, the sneaker was soon seen next to some of the most elite names in footwear. GQ named the Yeezy Boost “The Most Influential Sneaker” of 2016, calling it “one of the most coveted items in the world.” Celebrities Brooklyn Beckham and Justin Bieber were quickly spotted wearing the sneakers, and Yeezys became the fascination of the American population.

6626742B-11DA-4C34-8A5D-F276CCE44672.jpg

The only problem? The Yeezys were gone in a flash. As one of the hardest sneakers to purchase, the Yeezys’ popularity grew enormously. Manufacturers were determined to copy the style: Steve Madden released a look-alike “Baldwin” sneaker, and Under Armour debuted an almost identical “Moda Run” sneaker. This year, Kanye West tweeted that the Yeezy 700 is Adidas’s most requested shoe. Even more impressively, West states that the Yeezy 350s sold 400,000 pairs in just 4 hours--the only item that matches those statistics is the iPhone.

In 2018, Yeezy will hit a billion dollars, rendering it to be the second fastest growing company in history. In the words of Kanye West, “It is a unicorn on its way to becoming a decacorn.”

The secret to West’s success is simple: he profits off the concept of exclusivity. When everything else is so easily attainable, West knew that the Yeezys’ restricted access would make them irresistible. Originality is scarce in a society where everything is produced by the billions: the fewer people that have something, the more people want it. Thrift shops and Kanye West actually have a lot in common.

People are individuals. We don’t like to look like everyone else, talk like everyone else, or dress like everyone else. The reason the human race is pushing forward is due to our rejection of the status quo--the fashion that everyone else is wearing.

We want to dress different to feel different. And honestly, in a city as big as New York, that’s the only way we’ll ever get noticed.

SHARE:

Socially Enhanced

Socially Enhanced

From Riches to Rags

From Riches to Rags