Gen Zs don't seem as interested in expressing any sense of rebellion or allegiance to a subculture through their clothes. Photo / Getty Images
A viral social media post of identically dressed teens provoked mockery. But has the internet really destroyed style sub-cultures?
Regardless of the decade you grew up in, it’s nigh on impossible to get through your teenage years without having committed some serious style crimes. As a “Saturday Goth” (someone who could only dress like a goth on weekends, due to her school’s strict uniform policy), I remember spraying my hair pink, painting my lips blue and wearing a black leather, lace and fishnet concoction of such apparent embarrassment that my mother would make me leave the house before her friends arrived. She wanted her 16-year-old daughter to dress nicely, not look like a low-rent Siouxsie Sioux.
While today’s teens may end up on the naughty step for other infringements, “dressing outrageously” is unlikely to be one of them. Whether your own youth was spent as a goth, a punk, a Mod, a soulboy or a hippie, if you are a parent, it’s unlikely to have escaped your notice that your own progeny aren’t really as interested in expressing any sense of rebellion or allegiance to a subculture through their clothes. A quick perusal of their Rigga (a £15 or $32.20 IKEA clothes rail – Gen Zs don’t really do wardrobes) is likely to reveal nothing more rebellious than a rack of sweatpants and jeans, with a monochromatic line-up of Adidas Superstars, Sambas or Gazelles paired neatly along their shoe rack.
Earlier this week, a picture of a group of Gen Z girls all wearing the same pale blue baggy jeans and fitted black tops went viral, after it was posted on X, formerly Twitter. “Does anyone have any theories as to how light-wash jeans became considered evening wear?” asked the poster.
does anyone have any theories as to how light wash jeans became an evening jean? past 6pm especially in the colder months you would rarely see lighter than an indigo https://t.co/daFJ3B1qnm
The post prompted a deluge of comments lamenting the lack of imagination of today’s young people. “I can’t believe I sound like an old-timer, but it’s wild how everyone dresses the same now. We may have dressed badly, but at least we had some personality,” claimed one user. “This is every city. Every bar. Jeans, black tops, [Nike Air] forces,” said another. Others were harsher still. “Indicative of the sheep mentality. They haven’t been taught to think independently and individually. In other words, a well-groomed socialist generation,” one user opined.
As for whether all Gen Zs dress the same, that depends on who you ask. When I showed the image to 14-year-old Eliza, she was indignant. “But they’re not all wearing the same thing. They’re wearing a black top and jeans, but they’re not wearing the same cut of jeans at all. Their tops are all different, too.”
Gen Z certainly isn’t the first to value subtle nuances; these have always been important, particularly in the 1990s, when sportswear and casual culture took centre stage. It’s why one trainer was revered over another, or why a certain jean was prized for its selvedge where another might be rejected.
Besides, it seems hypocritical to accuse Gen Z of “sheep mentality” as though this is not an affliction that also affects millennials and Gen X. On the front row of any given fashion show, other than the influencers (who are styled in specific looks by the brand whose show they’ve been paid to attend) the rest of the guests are likely to be wearing very similar things. If you want to see true “sheep mentality”, go to a Prada store on the first day of Milan fashion week, and watch the fashion editors snapping up the same pair of shoes. If these supposedly confident style leaders take comfort in dressing the same, you can hardly blame Gen Z for doing so too.
According to Professor Sophie Scott, director of the Institute of Cognitive Neuroscience at UCL, the desire to feel a sense of belonging and acceptance is strongest during young adulthood. “The teenage years are a time of rapid brain and social development when people are much more influenced by their peers than by their family or authority figures,” she says. “Teenagers typically follow fashions that can seem impenetrably odd to older people, as a result. And if they are reacting against bright colours, which is an assumption, then it’s because teenagers are always reacting against things that older generations like.”
Is dressing conventionally Gen Z’s big act of rebellion against their parents? Blue, a 20-year-old student from London, would agree. “My mum and dad were big personalities, big partygoers and very unconventional. Nothing I could ever wear would shock them, and I wasn’t minded to try. People take the mick out of the ‘jeans and a nice top’ trend on TikTok, but why shouldn’t it be a uniform for me and my friends? It’s easy and comfy. None of us want to look tragically dressed up for a night out. We also need to think more about practicalities. Trainers feel safer to walk home in than heels. Maybe part of the reason my mum could dress outrageously was because she could afford to get a taxi home.”
While the clean, effortless look might be dominating the trend cycle, subcultures are still thriving. Emos, furries, e-girls, VSCOs and skaters take as much pride in their sartorial codes as their Mod or punk parents did. But where Gen X subcultures came largely from music and clubs, Gen Zs are as likely to come from the gaming world. Whether this is because today’s pop stars are a more anodyne bunch than those idolised by their parents is a contentious subject. If your Gen Z offspring likes Chappell Roan, the 26-year-old drag queen pop sensation with six million followers on Instagram, the answer is likely to be a resounding “no”.
Whatever theories abound among their parents – lack of creativity, lack of money, changing class structures, a relentlessly fast trend cycle that overrides the desire to align yourself with one look – for Gen Z themselves, there really isn’t a problem. “Parents blame social media for a lot of things, but [platforms like] TikTok and Instagram have given people space to develop their own personal style,” notes Ali, 16. “You can get inspiration from other people, and practical ideas about how to create your own stuff. There are still subcultures, just not ones our parents recognise.”
If cottagecore, balletcore, fairycore, coastal granny chic and dark academia are what pass for subcultures now, many Gen Xers can count their blessings that they were born in more exciting times, when, instead of Pinterest boards, fashion came from music, nightclubs, football terraces and the street. It’s not Gen Z’s fault that nightclubs are closing, or that football and gig tickets are now priced well out of the reach of most. No wonder they take their inspiration from each other: at least it’s free.