Author: Eryn 🐰

I’m So Over Microtrends (Respectfully… but also not)

I am so over microtrends.

Like deeply, spiritually, emotionally over them.
And yes, before anyone comes for me — I participated. I laughed. I liked some of them. I am not above a cute little trend moment. I am human.

Bag charms? Adorable at first.
A little stuffed animal hanging off your purse? Cute.
A ribbon or keychain to make your bag feel more personal? Love that.

But then brands got involved and did what brands always do: ruin it.

A $270 Heinz ketchup packet bag charm made out of goat leather is actually insane behavior. And please don’t let fancy words confuse you — Capra literally just means goat. You are paying luxury prices for a decorative goat leather ketchup packet.

At that point it’s not fashion.
It’s capitalism with a personality.

And honestly, that’s the lifecycle of every microtrend.

It starts off fun and harmless. Something people do for creativity or self-expression. Then TikTok gets involved. Then influencers start linking it. Then brands start selling it. Then suddenly something that was quirky and personal becomes expensive, overproduced, and labeled as a “must-have essential.”

Nothing is essential about a ketchup packet purse charm.

Nothing.

And at this point, some microtrends just need to go peacefully into the fashion graveyard and stay there.

Here’s my personal list of trends that need to rest:

• fringe (why does this keep resurrecting itself every six months)
• low rise jeans (we survived this once and that was enough)
• the “clean girl” aesthetic (which sometimes feels like cultural appropriation in a beige filter)
• funnel necks (they look like your shirt is eating you)
• beige everything (are we decorating ourselves or a loaf of sourdough)
• baggy everything (I would like to have a shape again, respectfully)

Fashion right now feels like it’s stuck in a loop where things are constantly being renamed and repackaged as something new.

Which brings me to the real issue: people keep confusing microtrends with actual trends.

And they are not the same.

Microtrends are basically fast fashion with a personality

They last a few weeks to a few months.
They live entirely on social media.
They usually have a quirky little name for something that already existed.
And by the time you buy into one, it’s already on its way out.

When I was growing up, this kind of style was called being a hipster.

Now it’s called twee.

Same vibe. Different font.

Hipster was thrifted sweaters, indie-folk music, vintage dresses, messy bangs, and drinking overpriced coffee while pretending you discovered an underground band first. Now it’s soft vintage aesthetic, curated playlists, and Pinterest boards with delicate fonts.

We keep renaming the same ideas and acting like they’re revolutionary.

Trends actually grow

Trends have longevity.
They evolve.
They exist outside of social media.
They turn into subcultures or lifestyles instead of disappearing overnight.

A good example is cottagecore.

It started as a microtrend — soft dresses, baking bread, romantic countryside energy, running through fields like we were all living in a fairytale during lockdown.

But over time, it evolved.

Now it’s less costume and more intentional living: cozy homes, warm lighting, baking, gardening, slow mornings, comfort, and simplicity. It matured into a lifestyle instead of just an aesthetic.

And sometimes microtrends don’t evolve — they completely distort the original trend.

Let’s talk about crunchy, granola, outdoorsy culture for a second.

Because something weird has happened there.

In the 60s and 70s, crunchy described people who lived naturally and simply.
Eco-friendly.
Hippie-adjacent.
Organic food.
Environmental awareness.
Buying less.
Living slower.
Being intentional.

The whole point was to consume less and live closer to nature.

Now crunchy culture feels like a shopping list.

Minimalism influencers with sponsored products.
Simple living YouTubers with brand deals.
Slow morning routines with $200 matching loungewear and affiliate links for wooden kitchen spoons.

And every time I watch those videos, I have the same thought:

If this is minimalism, why do I need to buy so many things to achieve it?

If this is simple living, why does it come with a discount code?

It starts to feel like we took something that was supposed to be about living simply and turned it into another aesthetic to monetize.

And I understand that creators need to make money. That part makes sense.
But sometimes it feels like simplicity itself is being sold back to us in beige packaging with soft music and a curated morning routine.

Like we’re being marketed a lifestyle that was originally about not buying things.

And that’s where microtrends start to feel less like creativity and more like marketing cycles trying to sell us a new identity every few months.

Be a clean girl.
Be a soft girl.
Be a crunchy girl.
Be a coastal girl.
Be a beige girl.
Be a vintage girl.

Or maybe — and this is a radical idea — just be a person.

Wear what you like.
Decorate how you want.
Drink your coffee however you drink it.
Go outside if you want.
Stay inside if you want.

Not everything needs a label or an aesthetic or a $270 goat leather ketchup packet hanging off your purse.

Sometimes personal style is just personal style.

And honestly, I think people are starting to get tired of being sold a new personality every season.

Maybe the real trend right now isn’t fringe or bag charms or clean girl aesthetics.

Maybe the real trend is people choosing authenticity again.

And if that’s the case, I fully support the death of microtrends.