There's a certain thrill that runs through fashion when a new ingenue arrives, a frisson of excitement that crackles with the promise of something… different. Olivia Rodrigo, with her chart-topping angst anthems and that doe-eyed stare, certainly seemed poised to deliver. But as her star ascends, and the red carpets unfurl, a question lingers in the air, heavy as hairspray: is this Gen Z style or a carefully curated homage to our collective sartorial past?
Let's be clear, the girl has taste. That much is undeniable. The slip dresses, slinky and shimmering, whisper of a bygone era, of Kate Moss and a haze of cigarette smoke. The chunky platform boots, a defiant stomp against… well, whatever it is Gen Z finds worthy of defiance. And who could resist the allure of a well-placed vintage tee, a knowing wink to Nirvana or, dare I say it, even Debbie Gibson?
But here’s the rub. It’s all been done before. And I’m not talking about some vague notion of cyclical trends. I’m talking specifics. The chokers, the babydoll dresses, the ripped fishnets – they’re straight out of the 1990s playbook. A playbook I, and many others, lived through the first time around.
I remember those days. The endless quest for the perfect vintage Levi’s 501s, the way a swipe of black eyeliner could make you feel invincible. We weren’t mimicking; we were creating. Responding to grunge, to riot grrrl, to a world on the precipice of change. Our clothes were a rebellion, a declaration of independence.
So where does that leave Rodrigo and her ilk? Are they simply borrowing from the past, cherry-picking the coolest bits without understanding the context? Or is this something more, a reinterpretation for a new generation grappling with its own set of anxieties and aspirations?
It’s a question that has plagued fashion since its inception. After all, what is fashion but a constant dialogue between past, present, and future? Yves Saint Laurent famously built his empire on reimagining the codes of menswear for women. And who could forget Marc Jacobs’ grunge collection for Perry Ellis, a controversial moment that ultimately cemented his status as a visionary?
But there’s a fine line between homage and appropriation. Between drawing inspiration from the past and simply regurgitating it. And that’s the line Rodrigo seems to be tiptoeing along. The references are there, clear as day, but they lack a certain… soul. The sense of risk, of pushing boundaries, that defined the very styles she’s emulating.
Perhaps it’s unfair to lay the blame solely at her feet. After all, she’s a product of her time, a generation raised on a constant diet of curated images and instant access to the entire history of fashion. Originality, in this digital landscape, becomes a slippery concept. Everything is up for grabs, a remix waiting to happen.
And yet, I can’t help but feel a pang of disappointment. A longing for the days when fashion was more than just a costume, when it was a means of self-expression, of rebellion, of forging your own identity. Maybe I’m just a nostalgic old soul, clinging to a past that never really was. Or maybe, just maybe, there’s still hope for a generation that can take the best of what came before and make it their own. To find their own voice, their own style, their own roar. The jury’s still out, the verdict yet to be rendered. But one thing’s for sure: I’ll be watching, front row as always, waiting to see what they do next.
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