While the general rule in fashion is that trends and items begin to reappear after two decades, at this point teenagers — who were too young to participate the first time around and who are some of TikTok’s most ardent users — are already remixing styles that were popular just five or ten years ago, as is the case with the 2014 Tumblr aesthetic.

The meme even expanded its seasonal footprint into Christian Girl Autumn and Short King Spring.

Many of these declarations are not meant to be taken seriously, and plenty will not succeed (see: Hot Vax Summer and, less consequentially, The New York Times’s endorsement of the Dirty Shirley). But all arise from a desire to identify some distinct flavor of each summer that can be captured and stored like strawberry preserves.

It’s an attempt at repackaging ideas, attitudes, and aesthetics into identifiable trends — something that can be capitalized on for attention or profit, comprehended, and widely consumed by a mass audience.

Unlike the radical subcultures of yore, which had their own visual schema, language, and aesthetics, these digital scenes aren’t exactly subcultures, at least not in the traditional sense.

as some people say, ‘Trends aren’t that deep.’ Semantic inflation doesn’t just alter definitions — it also changes how we engage with these words in a cultural context. What was once deep, strategic, and long-term has been reduced to shallow, fleeting moments.

70% of people would rather brands ‘serve their needs by understanding what they care about’ vs. 30% of people who’d rather brands ‘appear relevant by leaning into the latest trends’.

It has become clear that there is nothing in this world too far-fetched to become a vibe. The vibes are out of control. Anything can become a vibe. Even “zero vibes” could soon be a vibe trend, as long as you market it correctly