By Parisa Burton
Opinions Editor
In elementary school, keeping up with the latest social trends was a fundamental aspect of fitting in. Trends would emerge out of thin air, and it would be a struggle to keep up with. Once you finally tormented your parents enough to buy you something you believed would make you “cool,” the trend was over and you’d be left with an outdated product.
I vividly remember the third grade craze for Silly Bandz — colorful rubber bands that came in a variety of fun shapes. I couldn’t quite understand why they were so popular or what their practical use was. But in reality, there was no real purpose; they were simply collectable accessories designed to be worn and traded among friends. Classroom popularity was dependent on how many of these rubber bands decorated your wrists, causing those with small or nonexistent collections to feel inadequate.
Silly Bandz are only one of many examples of a fleeting trend that determined your social status in elementary school. Some other examples of emerging trends were Rainbow Loom, patterned duct tape, Heelyz and feather hair extensions.
Once we entered middle school, trends became less craft-oriented and were more about embodying a style that was deemed popular. Iconic products like Adidas Originals Superstar sneakers, Thrasher tees, JanSport backpacks and Air Jordans became mainstream.
This brings us to today. As college students, most people have grown out of the herd mentality and now buy products that align with their personal tastes and preferences. However, trends will never fully disappear. Popular products will always emerge, whether we like them or not.
While we may not face ridicule for resisting these trends, they can still feel desirable, as you frequently see others on campus flaunting certain items. This can make you question yourself on whether you genuinely like these products, or are simply drawn to them because they are popular.
What was particularly concerning about these trends when we were younger was that it wasn’t just about owning these items, it was more about the fear of not having them. The fear of missing out made it essential to keep up and conform to these social norms. Being without these trendy items often labeled you as an “outcast,” highlighting how deeply ingrained consumer culture was in our childhoods.
With the introduction of Vine, a popular meme emerged in 2015 where a filmer recorded a police officer, panned the camera down to his shoes and said the iconic catchphrase: “What are those?” This video quickly accumulated 8.9 million loops in just 24 hours, provoking others to recreate it for fun.
Following this viral moment, shoes became even more significant in middle school. If you were caught wearing “roast-worthy” shoes, people who considered themselves established in the sneaker scene would mock you. Brands like Skechers and other less popular labels were often ridiculed, creating a problematic circumstance for students whose families could not afford to keep up with ever-changing trends.
Reusable water bottles are one of the many trends in college that are ever-changing. During my freshman year in 2021, nearly everyone owned a HydroFlask after the popular “VSCO girl” trend. I did zero research into this water bottle before purchasing it. I was pulled back into a child-like mentality, buying into this trend to fit in with the crowd. But before I knew it, everyone was moved on to a new water bottle: the Stanley.
I was hesitant to jump on the bandwagon this time, despite the conformity I witnessed on campus. There must be a reason everyone is using this product, right? It must be amazing! So I gave in—again. I bought the renowned 40-ounce Quencher cup, and to say the least, I was highly disappointed. Its large size made it a hassle to carry; I often found myself balancing it on my pinky finger while juggling other things.
Today, there is yet another water bottle that feels almost cult-like on campus: the Owala. I honestly didn’t see it coming after we seemed to have finally settled on the Stanley. I find myself drawn to the fun colors it offers, but I am trying to resist the urge to buy one until I prove to myself that it will be beneficial to my lifestyle.
Do I want to buy one because everyone else has one, or do I genuinely see its usefulness and long-term benefits? This is an internal debate I have myself every time trends like these emerge. While trying to fight the impulse to be a follower and revert to child-like instincts, I am holding off for now. But it isn’t easy.
I never saw the use in Silly Bandz, but I still begged my parents to fund this new desire. While water bottles are more practical than rubber bands, this theme carries into our adulthood. Trends come and go, and I fear spending money on something that quickly becomes outdated.
However, I think it's important for us to embrace our unique preferences; if we find joy in Sillybandz while the world has moved onto Rainbow Loom, we should feel free to flaunt these bands on our wrists while others proudly wear their starburst bracelets. After all, it is our tastes, not trends that make us who we are.
