Four Instagrammers Create a Style-Utopia

Four Instagrammers Create a Style-Utopia

Picture American culture’s historic beauty icons: Audrey Hepburn, Marilyn Monroe, Sophia Loren, all reflections of a society’s desires and expectations for a certain image of beauty. Since the silver screen era in which these icons reigned, beauty standards have mutated and celebrity is unconventionally attainable. In the second half of the 20th centurythe parameters of beauty changed to be determined by an exponentially more diverse array of actors from magazine editors, marketing firms, to now, where the ‘beauty standard’ is enshrouded with so much ambiguity one cannot begin to define it. Social media bear the palm for this descent into the ether of a parameter-less beauty standard. But as artists like Marcus bring up, “it also comes with its own popularized beauty and art standards that may not be the most progressive.” And although this may be true and it has become polluted with ads and is controlled by frustrating algorithms, the global audience ultimately decides what is deemed worthy of attention and what is deemed beautiful. Our current era is hopefully entering a fashion and beauty utopia minus the perfection. Instagrammers, @uglyworldwide, @marcus.branch, @guvmanian and @kickiyangz are stomping in the midst of the vanguard that is marching beauty toward lawlessness by pushing the limits with their experimentation in cosmetics, fashion, and unafraid personal expression. 

@UGLYWORLDWIDE

Jazelle is a New York-based model who has walked for Rihanna’s Savage x Fenty and has branded herself as the polar opposite of beauty. Her Instagram’s post-progression tells the story of a shockingly diverse aesthetic voyage through fashion and cosmetics.

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@MARCUS.BRANCH

Marcus is a fashion photographer out of Philadelphia and New York. He says he is “most driven by impact, love, oddity, and union.” His work merits an appreciation for this new wave of utopic beauty while still staying relevant by celebrating and representing the misrepresented.

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@KICKIYANGZ

Chinese-Berliner Kicki Yang Zhang is most memorable for her whimsical experimentation with cosmetics and face painting. She uses her face as a canvas for a self-reflective exploration into innumerable fantasies. Kicki’s style posts feature collaborations with brands which are marching in the vanguard for innovation in fashion and beauty. 

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@GUVMANIAN

Leeanna is a young style icon among Depop fanatics and thrifting addicts. Her unique style and creative spirit exercises itself in each post and look she creates. Her feed is a patchwork of fables and romance.

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Detangling the Fashion-Environment Relationship: Fall 2019 Print

Your Thursday night sushi date comes not only with a side miso and salad but also with piping hot ethical repercussions. The production of your spicy tuna and crunchy dragon rolls equals the loss of more than half a million tons of fishing nets that float around like ghosts trapping fish and marine life alike. Ocean plastic, like discarded fishing nets, imposes an increasing threat to our marine ecosystems. With particular attention to these ‘ghostnets,’ producers and consumers alike have sprung into action. According to a 2018 study by Science Reports, fishing nets make up about 46% of the ocean’s plastic pollutants. The nets represent an immensely untapped resource for material production in recycling.

A variety of organizations have made it their mission to collect, clean, and recycle these nets into nylon fibers that can be used in anything from skateboard decks to yoga pants. ECONYL, Aquafil, and the Healthy Seas Initiative are all organizations working together to quell the plague of abandoned fishing nets. The general aim of the collaborating companies is to reduce ‘ghost fishing,’ a name given to the way in which lost fishing nets float aimlessly in the ocean, trapping fish and wrecking ecosystems. Without the efforts of companies like these, and without the increasing demand for a better relationship between humans, industry, and the environment, abandoned fishing gear poses a uniquely sinister threat to marine ecosystems. Thanks to modern science’s growing understanding of recycling and material production, our society is taking its first steps towards a future of harmony between humanity and the environment. 

Fishing nets are made out of thermoplastics, meaning their polymers are adequate for the recycling process due to their ideal melting and reforming capacity. Surprisingly, the time the nets have spent floating in the ocean doesn’t seem to affect the recycling process or the quality of the final regenerated nylon fibers. In fact, roughly 86% of ocean plastic pollutants are thermoplastics. An increased effort towards cleaning up our oceans is therefore entirely justifiable and could certainly be advocated as a substantial substitute for commercial starting material.

It is only in the last decade that ghostnets have been recycled into raw materials. In one example process, the nets are first recovered by the Healthy Seas Initiative, then recycled by Aquafil into ECONYL nylon yarn that can be used for any variety of garments and accessories. The process of recycling starts with cleaning the nets and drying them out. Next, as ECONYL’s website claims, the nets undergo a “radical regeneration and purification process, [and] the nylon waste is recycled right back to its original purity.” 

ECONYL has expertly branded its material as “regenerated” to modernize the “Reduce, Reuse, Recycle” slogan. The concept of regeneration has invigorated a dialogue about saving the environment. The phrase “Reduce, Reuse, Recycle” has been repeated so often that it has perhaps become monotonous. This new wave of recycling aims to put an emphasis on the process of transformation. This idea is not only inspiring for environmentalists but can lead to creative manifestations within fashion and product design. We are not only regenerating the fishing nets, but also transforming our outlook on the possibilities for a positive relationship between the environment and the fashion industry. The ghost nets are reborn. Once an empty and sinister entity, the material is now a raw resource with infinite possibilities for creation and innovation.

These updated definitions of recycling and the growing excitement about sustainable materials is charting a course away from the pernicious relationship between the environment and clothing production. However, sustainability conscious clothing production hasn’t always been associated with style or fashion. New efforts of the high fashion world to explore and undertake the recycling of ocean pollutants is extremely exciting because in doing so the fashion world labeled recycling and sustainable consumption with a certain prestige. Being environmentally conscious is now sexy, artistic, and insanely cool. ECONYL has been a hot commodity for luxury brands and has been featured in Gucci’s spring 2019 men’s outerwear and a limited bag line for Prada. But does this mean that sustainable garments are anything more than a fleeting trend, where people are only participate to fit in and boost their egos? The consumer has the autonomy to drive the market. If popular companies begin to set precedents for sustainable production practices, using recycled materials will become the status quo.By plugging companies like ECONYL, upscale brands like Gucci and Prada are setting a precedent for environmental production practices. 

One breakout brand making statements with ghost net ECONYL yarn is the UK-based designer outerwear, Avoria. Their newest collection of coats miraculously combines minimalism with maximalism and satisfies our desire for bright pastels during the dreariness of winter. The collection varies in lengths and heaviness, so you can buy one for fall and one for winter. Avoria is also pushing innovation and consumer participation with a customization option. The coats are made up of panels that you can order in different colors and combinations to suit your particular outfit and the weather. 

Recycled Nylon strutted the runway this fall in Jonathan Cohen’s Spring/Summer 2020 collection in the form of a cocktail dress embroidered with upcycled Swarovski crystals. Jonathan says this is an important meditation, “on the type of house [they] want to be: one that is responsible for and conscious of its impact on the world.” The ocean-blue, A-line, colorful halter demonstrates sustainability in fashion can be beautifully elegant. Creativity and innovation take an earth-conscious mindset to the next level. 

(Image: ©Jonathan Cohen Studios)

(https://jonathancohenstudio.com/collections/spring-summer-2020)

However, high fashion isn’t the biggest fish in the sea of sustainable practices. In 2019 we can already observe consumer brand initiatives to incorporate recycled materials. Many consumer brands are using nylon from recycled fishing nets and other ocean pollutants. There is a great diversity in the possibilities that these recycled materials can create. If you are in the market for a new winter coat and Avoria’s paneled coats are too alternative or expensive, Everlane has an assortment of winter wear made entirely from recycled materials including ocean plastic. If you’re looking to refresh your athletic wardrobe consult Girlfriend Collective’s line of 100% recycled athletic wear. Adidas’ Parley shoe collection sources directly from recycled fishing nets and would make a great outfit addition for your next climate change rally. 

The rise of recycled materials in garments and consumer items does bring up some questions about marketing ploys and trend adherence. Are brands only participating because branding their products as sustainable, ocean-friendly, or 100% recycled is “in-style?” Are companies exploiting society’s passion for the environment for a profit? Or, could this be a genuine effort to participate in the international struggle to assuage the plastic apocalypse? Confronting questions like these will put the consumer in control of the market. 

Brands are marketed as sustainable because it is not yet a status quo. It is appealing to consumers to see the “eco-friendly” label because it sets brands apart. If all companies adopted sustainable practices and regularly used recycled materials then no brand could use sustainability as a marketing ploy over another brand. However, the tide is changing and the miraculous mounting support for sustainable practices amongst consumers, the media, fashion platforms, and big industry is beginning to pave the way towards environmental revolution. This revolution is in part underscored by a completely redefined relationship between fashion and the environment. A global effort to change our processes of production and consumption will open the door to a  more connected and earth-centered fashion marketplace.  

The Raw Denim Obsession: Fall 2019 Print

Everyone wears jeans without much thought. There is, however, a fashion community that takes this ubiquitous product and transforms it into something greater. The Raw Denim Community focuses on every tiny detail of  denim, from stitching and material to the wear that the owner puts on the clothes. It is a unique intersection of internet culture and fashion which attracts a very niche crowd. This small sect of fashion exists largely on online forums such as Reddit. Members of the Raw Denim Community commit themselves to tracking the number of times that they have worn their jeans day-to-day and other quirky habits involving denim. Their dedication to singular pieces of clothing makes the group compelling and unique. I too, have been hooked on jeans. Though my style has since evolved, I have kept up with the Raw Denim Community. What has kept me has kept me in the community is my fascination with their deep love of jeans and their commitment to celebrating the wear of clothing they own.

Jeans were invented in 1873 and were originally only worn by the working class due to their price and durability. As a result of the linking in advertisements of jeans with cowboy culture and other western motifs, the pants came to be seen as a symbol of Americana in the twenties and thirties. In the beginning of the twentieth century, distressed jeans were adopted by many underground movements. The popularity of this distressed look and the advent of fast fashion has since made pre-distressed denim commonplace. These pre-distressed jeans are typically of low quality and have lost the tangible history that naturally distressed jeans have. 

The Raw Denim Community looks to preserve the organic distressing process that gives jeans character. In its simplest definition, raw denim is any clothing made from a roll of denim that has no washing or distressing. A more strict definition is that the fabric cannot have polyesters in it; however, there is no consensus. To complicate things, there is also selvedge denim. The defining factor of selvedge is that the edges of the fabric are woven into themselves whereas raw denim has loose ends in the fabric. These two fabrics are nearly indistinguishable. Their defining similarity is that they are both made with a conscious mind towards production and wear. Both materials facilitate the ability to keep the clothing for long periods of time without replacement.

While the choice in fabric distinguish the jeans owned by the Raw Denim Community, the way in which the community cares for their jeans distinguishes the hobby. The people who are truly into maintaining their denim “clean” their jeans just once or twice a year. Instead of washing, they soak. Soaking is when the jeans are simply submerged in water for a couple hours. This lack of washing allows for the dye in the jeans to run and form patterns of dye that match the person wearing them. For example, if someone has often carried their wallet in their pocket, it will show on the jeans. meticulous care can distinguish someone who is casually into raw denim from someone who is a fanatic.

Another aspect that makes the community special is the companies members buy from. Many members make it a point to base their purchases on the manufacturing and sourcing of materials. Whether buyers want local jeans or take into account the ecological effects of the pants, they care about where the material comes from. They want to buy products that line up with their values. This process involves extensive research, but is essential to the community’s ability to sustain itself. For example, if someone is environmentally conscious they are able to go out of their way to find jeans that match their values. 

The multiple forums of the Raw Denim Community sustain and inform each other on issues and developments in the denim world. A glance at the forums reveals a collection of articles, brands, and outfits all related to denim. This very narrow perspective within fashion would not be possible without the internet being able to connect people all over the world. 

When I think about the Raw Denim Community, I am reminded of my own jeans and denim jackets. While I have many, two in particular hold a real and cherished history. First: a pair of jeans that I wore for four years. Second: a jacket from 1975 that was gifted to me by my father.

I wore this particular pair of jeans almost everyday for two years just because they were the only pants that I felt secure in. These jeans got me through my body insecurity issues because I never felt fat in them, I just felt normal. Everything else that I ever put on made me feel like I was ugly. The jeans were something that was safe and I could wear inoffensively. They simply worked for me, not making my body feel any worse by being too tight or baggy. However, after a while there was a friendship I developed with them, it felt like they were a part of me.  They were with me when I was in highschool and when I first moved to college. They are still with me when I go to classes, and everywhere in between. This is part of the allure of raw denim. Because the material is so exceptionally durable, a history is built up with the clothes. Not only do you become more comfortable with the denim, it also develops imperfections which makes it incredibly unique to the owner.

As for the jacket, it was given to me by my father. Originally, my father bought it for twenty dollars it from his brother who found it on the floor after a party. The jacket received almost daily wear for over twenty years and shows every day of it. Wearing it is a way for me to connect with my father while I am away from him. When I wear it around campus, I know that my father was doing the same things I was doing during his time in college.

This affinity for denim can also reach ridiculous levels. My friend Charles is an avid collector who owns more than fifty unique pieces of denim. His archive includes pieces from the 1970’s to things acquired in the last year. His favorite piece is a pair of overalls that his father wore when he worked various jobs. These overalls are so important to him because they show each odd job his father worked. Whether it was painting or construction, the denim tells the story. The overalls are a time capsule of a certain time in his father’s life. 

Charles’ fashion sense is not just in denim, it includes many other fabrics and styles. This is reflected in his pieces that combine denim with other styles. His favorite piece of denim right now are Ed Hardys from the 2000’s. They have an intricate and colorful embroidered dragon on them. However, he is making a point to keep the pair clean and to only wear them on special occasions. Preservation is his way of showing his appreciation for denim and fashion in general. 


The Raw Denim Community has many superficial qualities that make it appealing.  However denim offers more than durable and versatile clothing. These pieces of clothing take on a life of their own. The clothes are worn so much that they become a second skin, and a constant facet of personal style. Whether it’s me and my pair of jeans that I’ve worn for four years or Charles with his father’s overalls, the owners of these clothes care deeply about them. This care is not a superficial material kind concerned with the brand or style, but rather a deep care for the clothing itself and the stories that have been imbedded in the fabric. The Raw Denim Community might represent the future for the very reason that an integral part of fashion for them is actually wearing the clothes they love. Using clothes to their fullest potential of wear is what separates the Raw Denim Community. Their project looks to turn a behavior often viewed as negative in the fashion world into a positive and powerful core value.

Simplifying Style: October 2019 Digital

I entered college with grand ideas about the incredible depth of knowledge I would gain—the worldview-changing classes I would take, the intelligent people I would encounter, the amount of Shakespeare, Hemingway, and Dickenson I would bury my nose in every night. However, I found myself struggling with the idea and pressure of cultivating an original writing style. My set of expectations about college made my first meeting with a Sweetland Writing advisor all the more confusing when my main takeaway from our discussion was to never underestimate octopuses.  

How am I to create work that is original when every topic and theme feels overdone? Where do I turn to for inspiration when every source appears to have been bled dry? These are the questions I sought advice on, and in return, I was asked a question myself. Why isn’t the experience and knowledge you already have enough inspiration?

In thinking about writing styles and how to develop my own, I was asked to question my idea of style itself, and inevitably, this led me to thinking about fashion. How do the individual pieces in our wardrobes collectively work together to reflect a sense of our identity and style?


The capsule wardrobe, an idea based on minimalist fashion aesthetics and ideologies, has seen a recent rebirth in an era often defined by minimal and conscious consumption. Although presently experiencing a rapid rise in popularity, the capsule wardrobe is not simply a passing fad, but a trend dating back as early as the seventies.

Coined by Susie Faux, owner of a clothing boutique called Wardrobe in London, the term capsule wardrobe stemmed from Faux’s background in and around the fashion world. Raised in a family of tailors, Faux was taught early-on that well-fitting clothing can make you look good and, in turn, feel good. Her primary mission was to help women develop their style and confidence. For her, these two concepts go hand in hand. In her book Wardrobe, Faux states the purpose of creating a capsule wardrobe: “By building a capsule wardrobe you will buy fewer clothes of a higher quality that you will wear more often. You will look and feel confident and successful because the quality will show and because you know that the overall look works.”

 Although there were no strict rules about what the capsule wardrobe should look like, the concept was designed specifically with the business woman in mind. Faux wanted to create more than a style rulebook for women. The idea was not to administer further guidelines to the way women were supposed to dress, restricting and suppressing their own personal sense of style. Instead, Faux wanted to popularize the concept that any woman could look professional and feel confident at work with a few core pieces in her wardrobe. According to Faux, “the principle is that less is more so really what you’re trying to do is to make the most of your budget to create a working wardrobe.”

 The capsule wardrobe was brought from the UK to the US in the eighties by designer Donna Karan. Inspired by the contemporary career woman, Karan created her Seven Easy Pieces line. The star piece of this line and runway show was a simple black bodysuit. During the show, models progressively added more pieces to complete the outfits. With an easy addition of a wrap skirt, pants, a tailored jacket, sweaters, scarves, and chunky gold jewelry, the foundational black bodysuit could be reimagined to create a multitude of different looks.

 In an age of fast consumption that can feel overwhelming, it is no surprise why many people are embracing the comfort of capsule wardrobes. Cutting down the time it takes to put together outfits in the morning leaves more time and energy to put towards other factors of health and wellness that are often neglected. Cultivating a capsule wardrobe does not have to mean buying a brand new set of basics. It can also mean paring down your existing wardrobe to the select pieces you love, value, and reach for the most. By thinking mindfully about our clothing consumption, we can foster a mindset of appreciation that stems outwards into other parts of our lives, into more than just our wardrobes.


 My newfound understanding of the ideologies behind the capsule wardrobe came to reflect new developments in the way I understand my own writing style.   

Along with eight arms, an octopus has three hearts and nine brains. The arms work independently of each other, yet together toward the same goal. When one fails, they can always rely on another.   

 It took this piece of advice from a writing advisor, as coded as it seemed, as a prompt for understanding that the source of my inspiration could be, and needed to be, myself. Through my lived experiences, through the books I read and the music I listen to, I already know what writing works for me, what styles fit me. Although harbored independently and drawn from separate sources, my inspirations culminate in my writing, each evident in different aspects of my work. Writing is not always a matter of creating something totally new to be my own, but is instead about curating and reimagining the pieces that make me up. Writing doesn’t need to be overcomplicated and neither do our closets. Nor, apparently, does our completely deserved respect for octopuses. 


Image: Woodshop Knits shoot (October 2019 Digital)

The Hoodie: A Surprising Solution

The Hoodie: A Surprising Solution

University of Michigan students are no strangers to the cold. But this doesn’t mean that we don’t dread it. Each night we envelop our bodies in warm, sheltered cocoons, only to wake up and force ourselves out for another day of ‘work hard, play hard’ style productivity. The sound of my fifth alarm persuades me to expose one limb at a time to the open air, until I’m standing upright. My skin still crawls in its exposure to a material that isn’t fuzzy cotton. I glance at the drawer which houses my heaviest denim, but I inevitably lower my gaze to the one below it. As I plunge my hand into the depths of this bottom vault, I can feel my collection of sweatshirts and sweatpants fold around it. I dig until I find one I haven’t worn in the last week, whether it be branded with a maize block ‘M’, Adidas’ three stripes, or a cartoonish wolverine with an accompanying Nike swoosh. These items represent all that the cold does not: relief, relaxation, safety. But they definitely don’t show off my affinity for fashion’s latest trends, especially those that pertain to my cherished winter wardrobe. My qualms with the weather’s inhibition of my fashion sense are not without merit. The fashionably frustrated, like myself, have finally been accommodated by the joining of the luxury industry with the classic hoodie. 

The epochal evolution of the hoodie gave way to this golden combination of trends. Although its provision of mobile shelter in the winter months is a given today, the cotton apparel’s beginnings lie in the 1919 establishment of Champion – originally named Knickerbocker Knitting Company. The 1930s production of the hooded sweatshirt solidified the company’s place in garment history. The company’s targeted niche was not the shivering collegiate on their walk to class, but rather the warehouse worker and the high school athlete. The latter had the greater impact; sportswear started on its track to trending when sports-playing boys offered their team-branded hooded apparel to their sociable girlfriends. The teenage female influence facilitated the mass production of the hoodie, legitimizing its contribution to the US economy’s fashion sphere. The adoption of these simple pieces by skaters and musicians in the twentieth century converted the hoodie to a symbol of street culture. And when the likes of Tommy Hilfiger and Ralph Lauren took notice, the hooded sweatshirt became fashionable in the popular consciousness of the West.

The hoodie’s transformation from streetwear essential to industry necessity is based in the simultaneous development of luxury fashion. Actively drawing the bounds of contemporary culture, fashion shows from New York to Milan excite and innovate. Clothes are art, models are frames, runways are museums. With a bandwidth of over 70 brands, LVMH (Louis Vuitton Moet Hennessy) fashion group maintains unprecedented control over this billion-dollar market. A monopoly of this degree can only sustain itself with perpetual innovation, and LVMH Luxury Ventures forms the channel through which change can be processed and eventually implemented in the public arena. And it is in this investment group that the ultimately practical cornerstone of high fashion and sweat apparel can be found – a solution for fashion-seekers stuck in low temperatures.

“The brand’s optimistic messaging, communicated to consumers via distinctly branded social media promotion, is exemplary of the twenty-first century departure from exclusionary labels.”
“The brand’s optimistic messaging, communicated to consumers via distinctly branded social media promotion, is exemplary of the twenty-first century departure from exclusionary labels.”

February 2018 marked a turning point in luxury acquisitions. The partnership between the aforementioned LVMH and streetwear label, Madhappy, reflects a public desire for high fashion in the form of comfortable cotton gear. Madhappy founder and UM Alum Peiman Raf, along with cofounders Noah Raf and Joshua Sitt, has successfully catered to the consumer culture of GenZ, narrowing in on the company ethos behind their retail services. Noah expresses a uniquely refreshing brand responsiveness, claiming “Madhappy is more than just clothing, it’s a lifestyle choice and it’s a community.” 

Their simplistic graphic design and expert use of white space on the brand’s surprise-drop centered feeds convey an awareness of their audience’s niche – a group characterized by an appreciation for inclusive communication through digital mediums with which they frequently interact. This reflects a level of targeting most companies can’t quite pin down, and acts as evidence of authenticity which naturally attracts younger contributors to the high-end market. The depiction of sweatshirt designs on both male and female models – with the quality denoted in arrowed diagrams of each photographed piece – is just one feature of their Instagram feed which serves a distinctly effective, market-centered purpose.

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Madhappy plays on contemporary consumer culture through their emphasis on the origins of the project, beyond the mere product. Their sweatshirts are more than just crafted cotton. Customers recognize this uniquely genuine truth by their acceptance of high price points. The hoodie itself becomes the fallout of a broader marketing scheme which encompasses gender inclusivity via formlessness. This facet supports Madhappy’s centering of the brand around mental health. And they confirm their authority on the matter through their regular blog posts, which form a compilation of the ideologies which characterize their idealistic mission. The brand’s optimistic messaging, communicated to consumers via distinctly branded social media promotion, is exemplary of the twenty-first century departure from exclusionary labels. Instagram users trust MadHappy’s promises because their own appearances in their spectrum of high quality products won’t differ largely from that of their fellow followers and friends, across genders. Positive expression from the ‘Local Optimist Group’ alongside plush, androgynous hoodies and matching sweatpants solidifies into cohesive recognition of where exactly the garment industry is headed – to a place where dropping $100 or more on a hoodie is actually warranted.

A price tag of that quantity, however, is naturally grounds for hesitation by the average college student. The extended hovering of the cursor over that favorite logoed piece denotes this inner conflict, especially as ads for similar statement sweat looks from Shadow Hill and Justin Bieber’s Drew beg you to make a very real investment in your brand of choice. 

To understand how the cotton hoodie can be converted into a luxury good – with so many options of source – one must take note of economies of scale, which conceptualize the typical cost advantage of efficiently executed mass production. However, in the case of these luxury brands, production costs are not spread over many items, but rather a select quantity. And external economies of scale mean that cost is not controlled by the subsidiary – for example, Madhappy – but by the industry itself – which, in the case of luxury fashion, is dominated by LVMH. 

This joint venture allows Madhappy to produce a limited number of items which they can market toward massive audiences who would be otherwise inaccessible. Furthermore, profit is determined less by efficiency of production, and more so by the association between high retail cost and its value as a status symbol. In other words, raising prices can actually establish a brand identity, which attracts the modern consumer toward their offerings. The mastering of packaging and messaging translates directly into profit, distinguishing the luxury hoodie from those on display at your local mall.

Luxury can be accessible. And it can be comfortable. For as long as major fashion houses take the necessary steps to engage with public sentiment and the identities of audience niches, both will remain true. The emerging market for luxury hoodies mirrors a long history of their infusion into admissible wear, much to the satisfaction of myself and my chilled peers. To be fashionable at the University of Michigan is to embrace both practicality and style. Warmth takes priority, and branded items serve to optimize this reality. Madhappy Founder Noah Raf sums this succinctly, realizing that “When people get dressed in the morning, the clothes they put on represent them. How they feel and how they want to be seen by others.” It seems there is a solution to my cold-weather qualms after all.

The Sherpa and Comfort-Ormity

The Sherpa and Comfort-Ormity

Source: Vogue
Source: Vogue

This year, fall felt less like the gentle lofting of a leaf to the ground and more like an avalanche of biting cold and disappointment. And with this onslaught of autumn came the elimination of half my wardrobe. 

Stubbornly I tried to wear my coulottes and blouses without the protection of a jacket, but they were no match for the 50 degree chill. One particularly ill-equipped day I was forced by desperation to return home and change into something warmer, and the fuzzy sherpa sweater seemed like a godsend. Its sheer volume of fluff ballooned between the other residences of my closet, and the creamy-brown tufts of llama-looking fur added a texture otherwise unaccounted for in my collection of wacky outerwear. 

Now, I’ve never been one for comfort over style. I’ve been known to wear short skirts in 10 degree weather and sweaters in the middle of July, but on this particular day something strong within my compelled me to change. 

So off I went to the library in my sherpa. It didn’t take me more than ten minutes to realize something: the sherpa had invaded campus. Everywhere I looked there was white sherpa, black sherpa, brown sherpa. The effortlessly laid back sherpa, by some great ambition, had overtaken the streets and homes and businesses of the city of Ann Arbor. 

Source: Vogue
Source: Vogue

Being dressed almost exactly the same as the stranger walking two feet in front of you is a sensation not quite like any other. My immediate inclination was to feel despair at the loss of my individuality. Fashion has always been a huge source of self expression for me, and I felt like I was expressing someone else’s story, or maybe no one’s at all. I felt like I was in the uniform of a young college student, or in a Halloween costume of a teenage girl. And who were all us teenage girls dressing up as in our sherpa? The word itself refers to the northern region of Nepal and the ethnic group of about 154,000 people who live there. Not only was I expressing the same story as half the people on the street, we were all in a way expressing the story of a people that quite frankly very few of us knew anything about. I missed my clunky boots and wide leg pants because those were things that were mine, and more importantly things that spoke about me. 

A subconscious part of me felt a jarring sense of comfort. I wish I could say it was a sense of community that made me feel this way, as I looked on at all my other fur clad sisters. But more than a sense of community, I felt normal. The feeling of averageness, of safety in numbers. I felt anonymously fashionable. 

Part of the appeal of trends is fitting in. We all want to feel “normal”, in the sense that we’re accepted, that we belong in a group and have a place in the world.  We stay safe in trends that everyone will like by virtue of the fact that everyone wears them. Yeah we might look like everyone else, but everyone else at least looks good, right? 

I felt like I was tapping into a collective expression of self that is shared with all my fellow sherpas. It assuredly wasn’t me, but it wasn’t anyone else either. My fashion was reflecting a fashionable person, someone who knows the fads and does the fads. I was distinguishing myself as someone that, at least in the sense of clothes as self expression, can be disregarded. 

The unforeseen power of the sherpa to make me feel secure in my community revealed to me a fact that had been brewing beneath the surface of my mind: every outfit I step out in is accompanied by a small degree of uncertainty and self doubt. I’d never walked down the street and seen an army of people dressed like me, and the incredulous response to some of my fashion decisions still haunted me. The relief of dressing like everyone else made me realize the discomfort of dressing like just myself. Because when you express yourself and people don’t like you, maybe that’s more painful than never letting them see at all. 

 Are all trends bad and evil? Probably not. There’s great power in feeling like you have a trend down, and even the things I find to be self expressive are trends to some extent. But I think the sherpa made me realize a bigger issue: the fear I have of complete self expression. The feeling of vulnerability that comes with telling the world who you are is a scary thing, and sometimes it’s easy to turn to trends to minimize this discomfort. But I think anyone who strives to express themselves through fashion has to note this discomfort in order to attempt to reject it.