Do I like it or does everyone else just have it?
Miu Miu glasses, my feet as Christmas hams and themes of capitalist despair
It started, as it always does, with a Pinterest board. This week I look at whether desire has become less about taste and more about algorithmic exposure, the type that masquerades as aesthetic literacy but really just rewards repetition. We like what we see, we see what we like, and eventually we dress like carbon copies of one another.
Until next time.
Honestly, no one asked: do I like it or does everyone else just have it?
Influencers looking better than I did in Miu Miu’s FW23 glasses
Once again on the eternal quest for the perfect pair of glasses, I walked into the optometrist with low expectations. To my surprise, they had the Miu Miu FW23 glasses in stock. Out of curiosity (and mild despair), I tried them on. Objectively, they didn’t suit me – they made me look like I’d lost my brows in a tragic fireplace accident and accentuated the roundness of my face. So why, nearly three weeks later, can I not stop thinking about them?
Writer and fashion commentator Alexandra Hildreth recently told Vogue Business that “you can tell someone’s screen time from their outfit.” Cringing? Same. But the truth hurts.
Over the past two years I’ve read countless op-eds on the slow and painful death of personal style. Jarring headlines like “Personal Style is Trapped in the Algorithm’s Echo Chamber” and “How the Algorithm Became a Scapegoat for Bland Style” have undeniably sparked introspection and, at times, a little anxiety.
For those unfamiliar, the discourse largely centres around the idea that aesthetics – or cores – are stripping us of our personal style. What was once a loose aesthetic, say punk or grunge, has morphed into a fully fledged lifestyle template, populated by carbon copies of each core’s loyal disciples.
Take, for example, the clean girl core: slicked back buns, an Alo onesie and a Rhode phone case. Or perhaps the Scandi girl: ballet flats (with socks, obviously), Adidas shorts, a wide collared ruffle shirt and an oversized scrunchie. It all seems so mismatched and unique until you open your Pinterest feed.
To be clear, I’m not being haughty, I’m also a victim. If I had to slot myself into a “core” (winces), it’s fair to say I lean toward the quiet aesthetic of the 90s minimalist beige brigade. Testing the theory myself, I opened up my Pinterest and refreshed my dashboard three times. The results? Telling. Black dresses, Khaite denim, trench coats, tennis bracelets, oversized shirts, a Cartier Tank and not a skerrick of colour. It mirrored exactly how I dress every day. I’ve become the architect of my own beige-clad monster.
My Pinterest dashboard
Not trying to avoid responsibility but it’s hard not to blame the algorithm. When you’re continuously fed iterations on what you already like, it’s no wonder your ability to think independently becomes limited. We start gravitating towards pieces – or entire aesthetics – that neither appealed to, nor suited, us to begin with.
Naturally, with a Pinterest feed like mine, I’m regularly served up The Row. If you can recall, for Spring/Summer 2024 The Row released a pair of red jelly sandals. When they first graced my screen, I scoffed. I thought they were objectively ugly and not worth the $1,000 price tag. Plus, they’d make my feet look like Christmas hams. Fast forward six months and I caught myself looking at my outfit in the mirror and thinking just how much better it would look with a pair of red jellies. After months of jelly-clad toes swirling around my echo chamber, I’d fallen prey to the age old tale of loath to love. Shame! Capitalism strikes my vulnerable arse again.
The Row jelly sandals
It’s one thing to like an aesthetic and pin it to a board, it’s another to only be fed variations of that aesthetic on loop. It’s a fine line to walk, especially when Instagram can be such a rich source of inspiration. Yet, I’m of the view that the level of specification in the content we’re being fed has gotten to the point where it’s too funnelled, too customised.
As for the Miu Miu glasses, I’m still undecided. While I left the optometrist with a considerably fuller pocket, I undeniably left unsettled. Not because I didn’t buy them, but because, somehow, I still kind of wanted them. While I decide, you can browse my other fleeting obsessions on my Pinterest board: Themes of Capitalist Despair.
3 things on my mind and in my cart this week
After the faux pas I made last week of linking a TRR find on the assumption no one reads this Substack (surprisingly, a few long suffering individuals do) I’m playing it safe this week and only linking things that are widely available. Enter Zara.
Those that know me know that Byredo’s Blanche has been my signature scent for the last 5 years, so this is hardly a surprise (clearly I was scraping the bottom of the barrel for recs this week).
Le Present Petite by Banks Timepieces
As someone with a penchant for Cartier watches, it’s important that I find similar styles that won’t cause me to file for bankruptcy. This piece by Banks Timepieces is a play on the Cartier Baignoire, still classic and iconic — but without the price tag. Banks Timepieces is a relatively new brand started by an ex Undone Store employee who, I have a feeling, is set to go far.
-CCW
Wear what suits, not what sells! Great article.