
Sex Trafficking and HIV
Keep Fashion Weird
Written by Kai
J-fashion, also known as Harajuku street fashion, is a collection of alternative clothing styles originating in Japan. If you’ve ever been to Harajuku, you would have seen an overwhelming amount on the streets and in stores—both classic brands and ryousangata, which describes fashion that’s currently trendy. You might notice some differences between the two. J-fashion styles from the early 2000s are much more unique and (for lack of a better word) quirky. Ryousangata and styles like jirai kei focus on a more mass-produced look. It’s simpler, more uniform, and modern.
It’s easy to see the difference between “dead” J-fashion styles and currently popular ones. Decora’s bright rainbow of colors has faded to jirai kei’s signature dusty pink. Even gyaru’s recent revival has focused more on cute, classy clothing rather than its beauty standard-defying origins. Alternative fashion is everywhere, but less alternative than ever — its uniqueness has been diluted.
This shift in J-fashion reflects a bigger trend happening everywhere. What used to be
bold and personal is now streamlined and made to sell. All kinds of brands are changing their
images. Logos are shifting. Book covers start to look the same. The simple, modernist,
created-on-Canva look is appearing everywhere, sapping personality and style from what used
to be a form of creativity.
In a song that seems as relevant as ever, singer Laura Jane Grace asks, “With the instant availability of information and content so easily obtainable, is the culture now a product that’s disposable?” Very little seems to exist separate from the mainstream. It’s assimilation, not acceptance.
The world is more connected than ever, yet, in many ways, it’s becoming more difficult to find individuality. Social media, while offering platforms for self-expression, has simultaneously encouraged the mass replication of styles, phrases, and ideas. What once would have been a small, underground movement has quickly become a trend accessible to millions—often devoid of the depth and meaning that initially made it special.
The internet also makes it much easier to make fun of someone who doesn’t fit an “acceptable” aesthetic. It discourages people from branching out. They don’t want to try new styles that they may not do “well” at first, and they don’t want to look “weird.”
As the mainstream grows, everything else gets swept away in its current. It can be scary to hang on to the fringes while everyone else goes with the flow. But despite this, alternative communities still exist. Clothing is still a tool of self-expression and not just a selection of socially approved options. As long as you like what you’re wearing, no one else can tell you it’s wrong.
