Ever bought clothing or furniture that completely violates your aesthetic principles? Yep, me too. With this in mind, I asked an expert why and how quickly our tastes can be influenced.
They say everything comes down to personal taste. If you like something, I won’t necessarily like it too. And vice versa. As the expression goes, however, you can also «acquire a taste for something». And that happens to me on a suspiciously regular basis. Here are two examples:
Birkenstock’s Boston Clogs. When they steadily began to replace the well-established Arizona variety about two years ago, I was dead against it. Since then, I’ve seen the mules so many times, including on friends whose style I admire, that I’ve, well, acquired a taste for them.
I had a similar experience recently with cargo pants. As the recycled 90s trend was starting to take off, I thought it was totally uncalled for. Then, I returned from a mid-August trip to Copenhagen with none other than a pair of cargo pants in my luggage. So there you go.
Do people maybe feel more pressure to emulate some specific thing if they live in a city or a busy neighbourhood? Quite possibly. After all, the narrower your social circle, the more specific the social expectations placed upon you. If you live in Zurich Wiedikon, for instance, the social pressure will probably be higher than in the outskirts of the canton of Zurich.
Am I – are we – really that impressionable? Is having the right people regularly flaunt an item in our direction all it takes for us to eventually like it and want it for ourselves? In an attempt to find out, I took my questions to trend researcher Alexandra Viert. Having studied Design with a focus on Trends + Identity at Zurich University of the Arts, she now works at the institution in a teaching and research capacity.
Alexandra Viert: Do we adapt our tastes in order to fit in? Absolutely. That being said, although we use our personal tastes to feel a sense of belonging with some people, we also use it to clearly distinguish ourselves from others. We do this through the way we dress, or even the food we eat, the music we listen to, the places we go on holiday and the way we live. The theoretical term for this is «distinction», which refers to the way social groups (more or less consciously) distance themselves from one another.
I’ve never looked at it from that perspective. Can you think of a specific example? Alexandra Viert: Let’s take the anti-trend normcore. When it emerged about 10 years back, normcore addressed the need to resist that exhausting pressure to be unique. That yearning for averageness in fashion manifested as turtlenecks and washed-out jeans à la Steve Jobs, outdoorsy sandals, fleeces and Uniqlo basics. The thing is, even if you want to be normcore and look like everyone else, you’ll still be different; you’ll be distinguishing yourself from people who jump on every fashion bandwagon.
So, do people adapt their tastes to fit a certain lifestyle or something prestigious they want to emulate? Yes, but the answer to that varies greatly depending on who you’re talking to about taste. A biologist or a psychologist might answer differently. From a trend research point of view, taste can be understood as part of a person’s lifestyle, expressed not only in terms of fashion, but also in things such as diet, culture, leisure or media consumption. Our lifestyle can be influenced by various factors – socio-economic background, age, gender or geography.
Is all of this a modern-day phenomenon or have we always been impressionable in some way? The fact that things have influence over us isn’t a contemporary phenomenon. However, the way in which we’re influenced has changed over time. In fashion, we talk about «trickle-up» and «trickle-down», and now also «trickle-across». A good example that demonstrates these effects is the kilt. Centuries ago, kilts were the national dress of the Scottish upper classes. Later, the kilt «trickled down» to become the tartan skirt claimed as street fashion by punks in the 1970s. Later, designers such as Vivienne Westwood and Jean-Paul Gaultier elevated tartan skirts from punk to haute couture – the trickle-up effect. In this era of alternative lifestyles and social mobility, fashion doesn’t move vertically between classes as much as it moves across them via social media platforms like Instagram.
Does it take a specific number of people or components to set an aesthetic trend? Like, could I have an influence over my own friendship group? Trend research doesn’t specify any hard-and-fast rules. If you’re not an opinion leader, your chances of becoming a trendsetter are relatively poor.
Trends are nothing more than movements in one direction – transformations that often start out small. It’s the job of trend researchers to detect these small phenomena and subtle signals indicating that a trend is about to emerge. However, there are concepts such as the «three times rule», whereby a trend only manifests itself once it’s been observed in three different sectors. An example of this would be the vegan trend, which touches on beauty and fashion as well as the food industry. But the boundaries between micro, macro and megatrends are often fluid.
Does that mean all the short-lived fads that appear and disappear again in the blink of an eye aren’t relevant to you trend researchers? In public discourse, for example, on social media platforms such as Instagram or LinkedIn, trends have become, well, trendy. Far too often, people in these spaces confuse trends with hype. Hype generates as much attention as possible within a minimum amount of time. And it usually disappears as quickly as it arrives. Hype only occasionally sticks around as a trend – your cargo pants being one example.
