TikTok’s influence on Fashion: Timeless or Trendy?

Jesse Cetrola reflects on TikTok’s influence on the Australian fashion industry.

Mr Winston, With Jéan, Poppy Lissiman, With Harper Lu... sound familiar? If TikTok hasn’t had the pleasure of forwarding these brands to you and your bank account, allow me.

The world of online shopping has erupted as a major serotonin-boosting and debit card-declining phenomenon throughout NSW lockdown and it seems TikTok has a lot to do with this. The widely popular, unstoppably trend-setting app has become a major e-commerce influencer drastically shaping consumption for various Aussie labels. At its very core, TikTok has remained a platform for influencers to surreptitiously plug a discount code in the midst of a Doja Cat song or advertise an item of clothing through the simple act of wearing it. Indeed, as the app has transformed itself from its Musical.ly roots and gained versatility in its audience and niche market exposure, it is now an understatement to say that TikTok possesses the power to control fashion trends and stimulate awareness of businesses flying under the radar.

Now, I don’t know about you, but my FYP (For You Page) is filled with various young Melbournian girls filming ‘What the Postman Brought Me This Week’ hauls and introducing various Aussie brands to viewers nationwide. The subtle #ad in the bottom right corner, the multitude of discount codes crowding comment sections and the inescapable sense of FOMO if you missed out on what every other Tik-Tok girl is wearing. But to what extent does this become exploitative? Is TikTok promoting a quick money grab for trendy pieces that will be old in months? Or are we seeing a new-found venture for businesses to gain a deeper relationship with consumers?

The craze of ‘limited drops’ and ‘get it before it's gone forever’ business tactics have been some of the key drivers of sales for small Melbourne businesses. Such promotions contribute to the illusion of scarcity to capitalise on impulsive shoppers, of which I have been their perfect culprit.

An enjoyable Wednesday MECO1002 class was the sacrificial lamb in this case, as an email popped up in my inbox informing me of the unpromoted Mr Winston exclusive drop which gave only members subscribed to their email list the secret intel to hurry onto their website and snag as many of these pieces as possible. As I write this in my new navy crewneck from that very drop, I feel no shame. 

Mr Winston is notorious for their limited pieces and drops circulating on TikTok, creating a culture of obsession among young consumers. If it wasn’t for TikTok, I would be oblivious to their staple loungewear collection and limited ‘reworked’ pieces including silk corsets and collared shirts that can range anywhere from $120 to $260.

So, why is it that we feel so inclined to buy minimalist clothing with a major brand name? The reality may be a very hard pill to swallow: that many of our purchases are influenced by brand visibility and associated status. This is where TikTok comes in; paid endorsements from popular and attractive influencers give brands the attention and status they crave. Mr Winston’s skyrocketed popularity alone speaks to how TikTok has elevated Aussie brands.

Yet this practice is not without complications. When it comes to impressionable minors for example, TikTok marketing may lead many to reach for their parents’ credit cards to purchase items of clothing they don’t necessarily need. Resellers also kill the mood by bulk-buying limited edition drops to resell on apps such as Depop for triple the price, often at the cost of desperate teens.

Regardless, TikTok influencers support Australian businesses, can encourage users to step out of their comfort zone and can bolster sustainable fashion.

Despite the aforementioned complications, I reckon it’s time to cease judging what young women spend their money on; as let’s be real, what is something that girls can obsess without being mocked or criticised? I know myself and many other Aussie girls during lockdown remain happily spending and videoing hauls to each other through TikTok. As when the night is over and the sun happily stares into my window, I know it’s a new day for me and the postman to see each other again.

Pulp Editors