The Cheugy Curse: Is fashion lost in the contradiction between sustainability and coolness?

When we talk about fashion in the post-pandemic hellscape that is the year 2021 it’s virtually impossible to keep social media out of the discussion; and whether you like it or not the way a product is received across Instagram, and more recently TikTok, can be its make or break; so much so that positive reviews and going viral has the potential to sell a product out for weeks, months or even years. E-commerce platforms have entire edits dedicated to ‘trending on TikTok’,  Starbucks has released a limited-edition drink inspired by the app, and earlier this year a popular pasta recipe triggered a national shortage of Feta cheese in Norway.

Since its launch in 2016 and its subsequent meteoric rise to success during the first wave of the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020, the platform has created a new generation of digital vanguards, armchair fashion critics, and aspiring niche internet celebrities who post daily contemporary discourse on social politics, art, and style, hot-takes on current fashion trends, what’s aesthetic and what’s not “a vibe”, categorising trends with made-up names like Avant-Basic, Kid-Core, and Minimal Maximalism.

Cheugy: a word with quite a specific definition, has been usurped by the masses and turned into a wide-reaching insult for anything fashion-related deemed “basic”, un-cool, or cringe.

One phrase that continues to come up during the never-ending bouts of digital discourse is Cheugy – an insult originally used to describe trends associated with the early 2010s and millennials; think Live, Laugh, Love décor, Lena Dunham, #Girlboss, and Disney adults. But like most things originating from the web, Cheugy: a word with quite a specific definition, has been usurped by the masses and turned into a wide-reaching insult for anything fashion-related deemed basic, un-cool, or cringe.

The internet’s readiness to overhype something whether it be through paid product endorsements, mass marketing campaigns, or just pure luck, and then throw it to the curb when it starts to get remotely popular is accelerating trend-cycles with worrying speed.

We all have likes and dislikes when it comes to the clothes we buy and wear, and everyone’s personal look evolves over time. But the internet’s readiness to overhype something whether it be through paid product endorsements, mass marketing campaigns, or just pure luck, and then throw it to the curb when it starts to get remotely popular is accelerating trend-cycles with worrying speed. Think about it, a trend will emerge, branch off into micro-trends, reach its zenith, then it’s dropped for being ‘uncool’, rinse, repeat, spend more money. A contemporary revival of the early 2010’s hipster mantra of I liked something before it was mainstream.

There are distinct stages in the cool to cheugy pipeline: gatekeeping (the “Oh you’re wearing a Nirvana t-shirt, name 5 of their songs” defence), gaslighting (telling people your shoes are from Oxfam even though they’re from Topshop), and then comes the complete rejection, debasement, and disposal when a look becomes ‘cheugy’ and turns into another ghost of fashion trends past.

Digital and physical shop shelves change so fast, brands jump at the chance to monetize niche trends, it’s already becoming an extremely unsustainable system both for the planet and our wallets.

Yes, all trends have a natural life-cycle, like everything they change with the times. But previously, trends would last one to two years before evolving organically. Now, the notion of something staying relevant for even six months is a rarity. Digital and physical shop shelves change so fast, brands jump at the chance to monetize niche trends, it’s already becoming an extremely unsustainable system both for the planet and our wallets, not to mention exhausting.

To add insult to injury you’ve got swathes of vloggers, influencers, and fashion critics who’ll look down their nose at you for buying into trends and shopping at well-known, accessible brands. They usually talk vaguely about sustainability and social justice and in the same breath push the latest trend-du-jour, filter through clothes daily and pocket up to $4000 for a one minute video with branded content.

The irresistible need amongst internet users to categorise others on their fashion choices in order to make themselves feel more unique and original, coupled with the instant gratification we’ve all come to expect from the worldwide web, seems to be the real driving force behind light-speed trends.

Everyone starts as an equal on the internet – except if you’re a celebrities child, but that’s a discussion for another day – and if you want to become a person who others listen to, you have to constantly prove you’re a trendsetter; with the zeitgeist. The irresistible need amongst internet users to categorise others on their fashion choices in order to make themselves feel more unique and original, coupled with the instant gratification we’ve all come to expect from the worldwide web, seems to be the real driving force behind light-speed trends.

Admit it, we’ve all felt a stab of annoyance, frustration, or rage whenever realisation sets in that something you considered your original idea or a closely guarded secret is actually much more of a ‘thing’ than you thought, or if something gains any sort of mainstream traction, which – newsflash – isn’t a bad thing. Why the concept of a product, brand, or style taking off and becoming more attainable, is constantly demonised will always be beyond sense.

In the future we can aspire to a digital world where the concept of cheugy becomes cheugy. But in the meantime remember, wear what makes you feel good,  what you know will be in your wardrobe for years to come and the most basic thing of all is caring about the opinions of others, especially on the internet.