Why taste is the only sacred truth in a world of endless trends

In a world of fleeting relationships, ever-changing fashion and beauty trends, and nail looks that are increasingly impossible to keep up with, because, quite frankly, your nails cannot handle a new gel set every other week, it is easy to feel like there is always something new you are supposed to want. While I think trends can be fun, that is exactly what they are: fleeting. They arrive, have their moment, and eventually give way to the next big thing. And sure, it’s fun, but come on, you want something to last. I fear it has to be real. It has to be true. If you want a Jelly Birkin, buy it. If you want to buy Tabis, buy them. But how long are you going to keep chasing whatever the person on your screen is talking about? Surely your wardrobe does not have space for every variation of balloon pants and capris.

Taste, in my opinion, acts as the ultimate compass in fashion. Trends fade, manufacturing changes and marketing shifts, but personal discernment and an authentic point of view remain the only true measures of style. There is nothing wrong with loving a trend. In fact, discovering something new and allowing it to influence you is part of the fun. The problem begins when inspiration becomes imitation, and when we start confusing what is popular with what we actually like.

We are living in a moment where even your cocktail order, dog breed, and favourite perfume can feel pre-selected for you. Your holiday destination is supposed to be a European summer. Your dog is supposed to be a long-haired dachshund. Your dream bag is supposed to be the Chanel 25. Your drink is supposed to be matcha. Inspiration is beautiful, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with wanting what you see. But when everyone seems to want the exact same things, it is worth asking where personal preference ends and the algorithm begins.

The digital age has transformed food from a private pleasure into a public performance, too. One-pan feta pasta became a cultural event; matcha moved from niche drink to full-blown lifestyle; Dubai chocolate became impossible to escape. Viral food can be creative and genuinely delicious, but the speed at which these obsessions arrive and disappear makes it difficult to develop any real attachment to them. Sourdough starters were lovingly nurtured in 2020; a few years later, we were cycling through hundreds of matcha desserts, contributing to a demand so intense that Japan even experienced matcha shortages.

The same churn exists in fashion. One month, everyone wants quiet luxury. Then it is coquette bows, office-siren glasses, ballet flats, silver bags, football shirts, red tights, tiny cardigans, or whatever reels has decided is worth discussing next. Some of it is fun. Some of it is genuinely useful. A lot of it eventually starts to feel like homework.

And I am not above it. I am guilty of falling prey to trends. I want the thing everyone is talking about; sometimes I convince myself that I need it simply because I have seen it enough times. The rise of the copy-paste era is real, and I am part of it. But perhaps the answer is not to reject trends altogether. It is to add yourself back into the equation.

Personal style starts with better filtering

The biggest change is not necessarily buying less for the sake of buying less. It is choosing better. Most of us know what happens after a trend purchase goes wrong: the piece looks incredible online, arrives at your door, gets worn once, and then takes up residence in the back of your wardrobe. It may be too bright, too tight, too difficult to style, or simply too connected to a moment that has already passed.

Personal style grows up when we stop asking, “What is everyone wearing?” and start asking, “What do I actually reach for?” It is the difference between owning something because the internet told you it was important and owning it because it feels unmistakably like you.

In a world that rewards short attention spans, virality, and views, we risk losing the very thing that makes us interesting: taste, or the handprint of our personality. You do not have to dress differently just for the sake of being different. You do not need an alternative wardrobe or an eccentric personal uniform. You can love the same ballet flats as everyone else. You can buy the Chanel 25. You can drink matcha every morning. The point is simply to know why you like it.

Because eventually, every trend ends. The algorithm moves on, the next obsession arrives, and the thing you were told you could not live without becomes yesterday’s news. And when that happens, when the trend has moved on, and we are no longer quite so married to Instagram, are you telling me you won’t know what to wear, what to eat or where to go? I’ll leave you with that thought.

Because taste is not something you can outsource. It stays with you. It evolves with you. And, unlike a microtrend, it can be passed down. Your daughter will learn what she likes from watching you; her daughter will inherit little pieces of that instinct from her. The restaurants you return to, the clothes you keep, the perfume you wear for years, the way you set a table, the things you choose simply because they feel right, those become part of a personal language.

So, if you have not been using your own taste and preferences all that much lately, consider this your sign. Start choosing for yourself again. Trends will come and go. Your taste is the thing that stays, and, if you do it right, it might just outlive you.

Lead image: IMDb

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