As a student, I earned my own money for the first time. At that time, people tended to have an interesting idea of consumerism. On the one hand, minimalism was all the rage. Everyone around me was obsessed with Marie Kondō, rolling their T-shirts and rummaging through their junk drawers for sparks of joy. Free boxes stood outside houses in better neighborhoods. Minimalism was, contrary to its own narrative, a hobby for the rich who had the money to buy new, simpler things. Unfortunately, buying second-hand is not an universal solution either. The choice of sizes for clothes is limited and it is not always cheaper. At the same time, the consumerism increased massively, fuelled by YouTube and Instagram. Back then, I threw away about as much as I bought new, except that the new items were mostly beige. Because of Pinterest and Marie Kondō, I thought colorful things were for children. I later realized that children’s clothes were also sand-colored, but at least that’s gender-neutral.

Keyword Paypal: I probably opened my first Paypal account at the same time as the British influencer Zoe Sugg, better known today as Zoella, opened her YouTube channel. She became a digital friend to many, especially young girls. Several times a week, she presented newly purchased items in hauls – clothes, cosmetics, decorative items. Zoe Sugg became one of the most successful and well-known YouTubers. The products she holds up in her videos now look completely out of date: extremely matte foundation, copper-colored tea light holders, cushions with a black and white chevron pattern. 

This year Zoella is celebrating her tenth YouTube anniversary, while I can congratulate myself on never having succumbed to the temptation of Paypal’s “pay later” function. In the meantime, the enthusiasm for all kinds of things has been passed on to the next generation – despite all consumerism. Thanks to rapid production cycles, the desire to buy has even multiplied. TikTok is fuelling new micro-trends every week, which are immediately available as they are presented on the display. Second-hand is one trend among many, but by far not the standard.

The object fixation of the 2010s went hand in hand with the new possibilities of taking over hype through the collaboration of brands with influencers. Today, the period seems like the last run-through in consumer history, in which the decision to buy or not to buy, to have or not to have, was one of desire, money or accessibility – but not one of morality. Criticism of the consumerism of the scene only became louder later, when its stars had long since moved into mansions in London or L.A. and no longer had to worry about negative comments.

The extent to which we live in renunciation or gluttony is just as subject to the zeitgeist as whether tight or wide trousers or thin or bushy eyebrows are in. And even in times when renunciation, minimalist living and conscious consumption are the predominant themes, hyper-capitalism has comforting things in store. Nobody has to do without the little dopamine rush of shopping. Almost every person has sacrificed a Sunday at some point to fill their kitchen pantry into plain glass or plastic containers, more for the look than out of fear of food moths.

One of the most uncomfortable realizations of growing up was that most of what I end up liking is not my own choice. Taste is as malleable and changeable as nail varnish or those chevron cushion covers. As I write this text, notifications light up on my phone every few minutes: “Your favorite ‘MEGA cool Alpha jacket’ has been sold. Look around for new favorite items!”, “2533 new results for your search: ‘All categories – USM Haller throughout Germany’.” I pay them no further attention; I swipe them away. My desire doesn’t go that far after all. It’s probably more about the constant feeling of having options. I like old things better than new ones, kitsch and trash better than “real quality”. Although I think that’s more of a trend than my own taste. I almost only buy second-hand clothes and do so with a clear conscience, but then I buy too many of them, which in turn feels bad.

If you ask doctors how many cigarettes you can smoke a day without worrying, the answer is usually: “Preferably none at all, of course.” The same applies to consumption, even second-hand. Throwing away is also bad – reduce, reuse, recycle, resell and sometimes regret. We can only hope that the movement continues to grow and doesn’t fall victim to a “it’s all the same now anyway” hedonism. Trend cycles are not as unpredictable as they seem. But as collective movements, they are also difficult to control. My display lights up: “Your article ‘Vintage Blumarine quilted jacket’ has been favored!” Shortly afterward, I receive a message: the best kind of message. One that promises a sale instead of a purchase.

Shit, forgot the emoji.