For many people who would identify themselves as alternative, there is an element of identification in what one wears. Throughout the years, those who subscribed to an ideology that exists outside of the societal norm found a place among second-hand materials, patches, buttons, etc. However, fashion content has begun to revolve around categorizing people by “aesthetics,” and social media-induced microtrends are overwhelming thrift stores. This leaves those reliant upon second-hand clothes, and those who are adhering to subversiveness, in the straits.
If a person relies on used clothing shops due to financial reasons, Shein could be proposed as a solution, and to some extent that may be true but the garments are poorly constructed. The simple fact is if something is not made to last, it will not, and the result is a continued purchase of the same product which is revealed to be more expensive than a singular purchase of something that is of a higher quality. If the preference for thrifts is derived from a belief system, such as alternative people, Shein represents the antithesis of their ideology. A sweatshop decorated by social media praise is still a sweatshop, and it’s a sweatshop with a massive carbon footprint.
Buying used clothing is supposed to be an attempt to get full use out of a product and to avoid contributing to brand-name corporations. This is no longer plausible, as cheaply made pieces are donated in droves as if the local thrift is a dumping ground for an outdated, online shopping haul. It has become increasingly difficult to find quality attire that can be given a second life, rendering the effort to do so irrelevant. Should one pick through several thrift stores for hours, they may be able to leave with more than a few items. That is if resellers have yet to snatch them up.
Depop and Mercari sellers are known to buy cartfuls of clothes at a time. Thrifts are a victim of overconsumption from both the front and back. The donation center is flooded with what is out of style, and the aisles are stripped of what is. Alt fashion has become popular in the last several years; therefore, it is in demand. Can’t afford the $88 low-rise shorts at Urban Outfitters? Never fear, you can get used “grunge goth gothic emo punk pixie cyber retro indie” shorts for $137 instead. Vintage, of course.
Biting the bullet and purchasing a pricey new product comes with its own challenges. Consumers have to navigate the minefield that is purposeful obsoletism. Items that are bought at a higher price no longer last more than a few years, and people will continue to come back and acquire another, another and another in a never-ending cycle of goods that were built to break.
An example of this is what could be considered a staple of “alternative fashion,” the notorious Doc Martens. Despite their egregious (and disregarded) origins, these shoes infiltrated the counterculture scene for decades before the 2000s. Although still popular to this day, these infamous shoes have fallen out of favor with the alternative lifestyle as the price continues to climb and their longevity decreases. For $170, buyers can get a pair of boots that will probably last them less than five years, making them a costly investment for little return value. Lately, one would be more likely to find a pair of work clogs at a basement punk show than Docs.
That is, of course, because alternative fashion should truly be about what is available. It can be debated whether certain shapes and styles of apparel fall into the “alt category,” which is true to a certain extent. There are pieces that can be identified as alt, but there is no traditional alternative attire. That would be an inherent oxymoron, but the loss of access to those easy identifiers establishes the erasure of self-expression. This increasing issue within every subcategory of counterculture represents the overarching issue of overconsumption ruining affordability.
Kirsten Abbey is a junior studying journalism at Ohio University. Please note that the views and opinions of the columnists do not reflect those of The Post. Want to talk more about it? Let Kirsten know by emailing her ka239920@ohio.edu.
