Peering into the modern-day time capsule that is our social media accounts, I’m struck by just how much can change in a year.
And no, I’m not talking about leopard print’s sudden, unceremonious dethroning by polka dots in the battle for the pattern crown.
Social media has become a place for fashion lovers to connect, create, be inspired, and share a good meme. For me, it’s also become a kind of journal – documenting my style journey from stuffy corporate millennial to eclectic, playful maximalist and connecting me with millions across the globe from the streets of Pōneke.
I dread to sound like an over-enthusiastic parent on the first day of school, but amazing things really can happen if you’re brave enough to put yourself out there. A year ago, sitting at my corporate desk job staring at an Excel spreadsheet, I could never have imagined I’d end up in Vogue India, be named Fashion Quarterly’s Creator of the Year, and feature in numerous incredible publications while reaching so many people (shameless social media plug here and here).
Of course, the journey wasn’t all glossy wins – there were plenty of flops. There’s a saying that you have to climb Cringe Mountain to reach the Land of Cool, and I couldn’t agree more. Case in point: a video of mine with over 200,000 views where people unanimously agreed my outfit looked like something straight out of a religious cult.
The outfit in question (right)… they were correct.
Thankfully, this past year has seen a slight slowdown in the social media trend cycle, as the ‘core’ aesthetics finally imploded in on themselves with the arrival of the slightly (read: very) silly mobwife and fisherman-core, leaving many officially over it. A return to emphasising personal style has been a welcome shift – though it doesn’t come without its challenges, as many of us (myself included) still wrestle with defining exactly what our style is. I’ve come to realise that the process of self-discovery and play through fashion is part of the magic, and that by embracing the journey instead of obsessing over the destination, you can create some pretty beautiful sartorial moments.
But while the online fashion trend cycle may be slowing, another, far less welcome shift has been gathering momentum: the alarming rise in thinspo content, fuelled in part by Ozempic’s infiltration throughout Hollywood and beyond. The knock-on impact to fashion – and to how we view our own bodies within it – is already becoming clear. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t have an effect. Having lived through the scary thin tabloid culture of the early noughties, I know how insidious this content can be to your sense of self-worth and confidence.
Showing up for midsize women – and for anyone who doesn’t fit into the perfect influencer mould – is a constant battle against an algorithm that prioritises and rewards a very narrow aesthetic. But it’s also one that creates authentic, loyal connection – something brands would be wise to take note of. Body positivity isn’t a fleeting “core” or a microtrend that’s in one year and out the next. We want to see ourselves reflected in the content we consume online.
And maybe that’s why we’re now seeing a quiet migration toward more thoughtful content – away from the dopamine-hit, trend-driven scroll and toward video essays, thoughtful photography, and digital or print publications that allow space for nuance. Sure, social media trends are fun (and I will happily debate why you should still be wearing those leopard print trousers you bought last year), but there’s something deeply satisfying about fashion conversations that delve deeper. For me, that means sharing not just the wins but the continuous stumbles up Cringe Mountain, the experiments, and the moments of self-discovery. If we can keep uplifting Kiwi voices that value substance over shock factor, thats where the magic lies. I hope to continue to be one of them.
