Society Unstitched: My Fashion Ops List
GLP-1s have weasled their way into the DNA of dressing, shrinking what was once personal style into trend-induced fashion. No, I’m not attesting that our clothing is being genetically modified with a weight-loss stitch; rather, our sense of personal style is thinning under the pressure of amplified trends. We have commitment issues when it comes to our sense of personal style. We fail to find, grow, and evolve our uniqueness because it takes a lot of work and dedication. It’s easier to fall into a trend by shelling out cash for the next viral piece than to put in the work demanded to create one’s style identity.
I’ve always been a strong believer that someone’s style is the initial glimpse into their personality. But now, there’s a disconnect. How can we decipher anyone’s unique disposition since everyone’s wearing the same Aritzia Superpuff, Emijay clip, and The Row loafers? I believe our fashion landscape is slowly becoming unstitched, only held together by the threads of uniform trends. In this article, you’ll find my top fashion ops. All of which have separated our sense of individuality, unified our basicness, or, quite frankly, just irk me.
Aritzia’s Communal Dressing Rooms
I genuinely think I could leave this one here, no explanation needed, but let's get into it. Artizia can be categorized into its own humiliation bracket when it comes to shopping. Talk about a store that calls me fat in 10 different ways. The ritual at Aritzia is as follows:
You cautiously walk in, immediately overstimulated by all of the people. You find something you might like, pick it up, and have an associate run up to you like they’re training for the NYC marathon. They’re wearing a fake, off-putting smile. I’m scared. “Would you like me to get a dressing room started for you?” “Sure,” I say, with an understanding that I’d rather be in the pits of hell than go to the dressing room area. I approach the dressing area with caution. I walk into the large room decorated with firm couches and unforgiving floor-to-ceiling windows. What is this hostile place!? Surrounding the area are individual dressing rooms, shielded only by a thin curtain. One foot in front of the other, I think. I take a deep breath and walk into the dressing room, taking off my clothes and putting on the dress I selected. There’s no mirror in here; I must go out into the wild. Another deep breath, and I walk into the communal fitting room, or Hunger Games arena, as I like to think of it. I see other girls, all trying on their clothes. Some exude confidence, some bear my same embarrassment. I take a quick glance in the mirror, and nearly jump out of my skin as the associate shrieks. “Do you like it? Can I get you another size?” “No, yeah, no, I’ll take it!” I have no idea if I like it, I have no idea if I’ll take it. I dash to the enclosed dressing room without a mirror. End scene. Ops list.
Skinny Jeans
My heart rate now decreased; another one on my ops list is skinny jeans. At one time, the “it item,” then outdated, and now widely revered. Ah, how the pendulum swings.
Circa 2000-2019, skinny jeans had a chokehold on the denim industry, our thighs, and our ass. There was no other option if you wanted to wear a fashion-forward pair of jeans. It seemed like a lifetime of forcing ourselves into suffocating denim until barrel and loose-fitting jeans came onto the scene. For a while, denim brands and their consumers were living in harmony. The jeans were loose, and we could breathe. But all good things must come to an end. Cue January 2025, when Alex Earl’s denim line with Frame drops.
Personally speaking, skinny jeans are a crime against the fashion community and anyone who isn’t a size 0. I for one, like my thighs to be disguised under a loose fitting denim, opposed to squeezed to create the illusion of a similar width as my shins and calves. I shutter every time there’s a sighting of Y2K skinny jean core - think low rise skinny jeans grazing the top of your bikini line with a whale tail popping out. Hence, skinny jeans are a member of my Ops list.
Tabis
Tabis didn’t initially start out on my ops list, but alas, here we are. For those that don’t know, Tabis are a pair of shoes that resemble the hoof of a horse with a split toe design. This silhouette can be credited to 15th-century Japan, but the“Tabi” itself is credited to the brand Maison Margiela. Prior to their popularity, these shoes were reserved for only the coolest of cool people. They were the only ones that could get away with wearing such a unique and (to some) hideous construction. Despite the sharp price point at $1,500, by Spring 2024, it seems everyone got their hands on a pair. The reason this shoe is on my ops list is that I’m discouraged that such an outlandish, sick shoe has found its way into mainstream fashion. I recently saw a meme captioned “POV: you’re having the worst conversation imaginable, and you look down,” and it’s a picture of about 5 people’s feet all wearing Tabis. I may have interpreted this meme differently from its intention, but to me, the Tabi shoe has lost its cool-girl star of approval. Now, any basic influencer is wearing, notice how I didn’t say styling, the shoe.
Signature Scents
As you may have realized by now, a lot of what’s on my ops list isn’t necessarily because I hate the product; rather, I hate what it’s become. For example, having a signature scent. Don’t get me wrong, I have a signature scent that I love and couldn’t live without. No, I will not be disclosing this. Yes, I’m gatekeeping, and honestly, I’m a proponent of gatekeeping. I hate that we feel the need to make everything into a viral moment shared with the collective, instead of having some things just for us. For example, TikTok’s gone viral with having your signature scent. Everything from how to choose it, to favorite perfumes, etc. It’s obnoxious that we’re all falling into groupthink, failing to have any individual thoughts. You don’t need to have a signature scent, but if you have one, figure out what it is, why you have it, and what it means on your own time (maybe don’t vlog it?)
Sample Sales
Sample sales are Huge in NYC. Every week, 260 Sample Sale has another brand coming in with a promise of 70+% of regular price items. The idea is there, love the idea! But the execution is a major flop. You can wait in line for 10 minutes to upwards of an hour prior to being allowed into the sample sale. You have to check your bag, get a ticket to collect your bag at the end, then all hell breaks loose. You scour the racks to find your pieces, then, much like the Aritizia dressing rooms, head to a communal changing room. The communal changing room is not the problem here. Instead, it’s the resellers posted up with 5 iPhones on live, trying to auction off these pieces at a significant upcharge. There’s a sense of accomplishment when you wait in line and get the deal for yourself, that’s being completely bypassed when resellers are present. It’s a selfish and unbecoming practice - have we lost all decorum!?
And that, my friends, captures my top fashion ops list. May peace and personal style be with you.