Why Chasing Trends Feels Obsolete

For as long as I can remember, September has been fashion’s annual renaissance—a kind of sacred new year, when new ideas manifest and the most important trends emerge before the closing of the year.

The infamous September issue of Vogue became the physical manifestation of this reality: an enormous magazine filled with multiple editorial spreads and some of the most coveted fashion advertising found in print.

For more years than I can count, I have religiously consulted the September issue, combing through its pages, analyzing images and seeking pattern repetition and confirmation of the dominant trends of the moment.

This year, for the first time, I decided not to buy American Vogue and dissect its pages in search of the season’s defining trends.

There were multiple factors that influenced this decision, the first being that Anna Wintour, fashion’s longtime high priestess, is no longer editor-in-chief of American Vogue. The editorial team is now led by Chloe Malle, and although Wintour remains involved at Condé Nast, Vogue’s publisher, she is no longer directing the day-to-day editorial content of American Vogue.

The second factor was simply a lack of need. Virtually any image or trend featured in the magazine can now be found online. We are living in an age of information overload, and what many of us are truly craving is not more information, but curation—someone to sift through the noise and present us with what is essential.

The last thing that hammered the nail in Vogue’s coffin for me was the speed at which trends now move. There is barely enough time to report on them before they are already approaching the end of their relevance.

Which brings us to the more complicated subject of trends themselves.

Trends can inspire, provoke and encourage experimentation—but they are also commercial instruments. Interest is identified, amplified and marketed until desire becomes urgency and urgency becomes consumption. The FOMO is entirely manufactured.

Reduced to its most basic economic equation:

Trend equals spend.

Let’s look at a simple trend currently floating through the zeitgeist: the berry lip.

Every fall, the berry lip returns to beauty forecasts. Sometimes it’s matte, sometimes washed out, sometimes precisely defined with liner, sometimes reflective—but regardless of the finish, it never really disappears from the autumn beauty conversation.

And there is good reason for that. Berry lips—whether stained, richly pigmented or reflective—are beautiful. They can look wonderful on pale skin and deeper complexions and particularly striking against golden and olive undertones. The colour can be softer or deeper, leaning toward burgundy or brown. Because the family of shades is so adaptable and flattering, it finds incredible popularity each fall.

Which invariably leads me to the next question: how many berry lip products have you found yourself buying each fall under the influence of this perennial trend?

Trends themselves are not the enemy. For many of us, they encourage fashion exploration, introduce unfamiliar ideas and allow something new to find a place within our existing wardrobe or beauty repertoire.

That exploration can be incredibly useful when developing personal style. It widens the possibilities for self-representation and self-expression and allows us to experiment with how we present ourselves to the world.

There is an important distinction, though: trends do not define personal style.

Personal style is something you curate over time, through trial and error, gradually embracing the visual possibilities that feel truest to you. Once developed, a genuine sense of personal style can outlast any individual trend. It becomes timeless precisely because it belongs to you.

Once defined, your sense of style becomes a filter for fashion and beauty purchases, allowing you to assess new trends with greater discernment and integrate only the ideas that belong within your existing visual language.

Developing that sense of style requires two things: self-analysis and time.

You have to get to know yourself and, perhaps more importantly, understand what your presence communicates about you—professionally and personally.

How do people respond to you visually?

It is important to remember that personal style isn’t about refusing change. It’s about developing criteria for change. You can absolutely incorporate a new trend into your own style; the difference is that the trend doesn't get to dictate your sense of identity.

September remains a wonderful time to look, experiment and discover what fashion and beauty are proposing next. But there is a difference between following a trend and adapting one.

The question is whether you allow the trend to wear you—or whether you absorb something from it into a visual language that is already your own.

So, this season, rather than asking, What am I supposed to be wearing?, ask something more interesting:

How do I want to be perceived? What feels like me?

Trends will keep changing. Your personal style should be allowed to evolve with them—but it should never be dictated by them.

And in the long run, your wallet may thank you too.

Anti-Aging is Nonsense!

I’ll admit it—I'm obsessed with skincare. Double-cleansing, sunscreen, moisturizers, and knowing my actives are second nature to me. I visit my injection specialist three times a year, indulge in rejuvenating laser treatments, and cherish keeping my skin looking fresh. Yet, after over 30 years in the beauty industry, I’ve realized: anti-aging is nonsense.

Don’t get me wrong—I’ll always enjoy refreshing my appearance, and I love taking care of my skin. But this passion, even an obsession, stems from decades of conditioning in an industry that glorifies youth. We live in a society where aging is often viewed as something to fight, rather than embrace. The truth is, wisdom and experience have taken a backseat in favor of remaining vibrant, young, and, most disturbingly, relevant.

Today, any visible sign of aging is something to be erased. Young women are turning to Botox to avoid wrinkles before they even appear, while mothers are injecting their teenage daughters to keep them looking forever young. This is a disturbing trend—a fear of aging that shows a profound disconnect from reality.

Aging Used to Be Celebrated

In pre-20th-century cultures, aging was revered. Elders were sought out for their wisdom, and their guidance was celebrated. As children entered puberty, they were often encouraged to grow up faster and embrace maturity.

Then came the 20th century—an era of rapid change. The industrial revolution, cinema, world wars, pandemics, and economic crises all forced generations to mature quickly. The modeling industry of the 1950s reflected this shift, where models in their early thirties, many of whom were former dancers, radiated self-assurance and maturity. Younger women aspired to emulate their elegance and grace.

But by the 1960s, the landscape had shifted dramatically. With the rise of Twiggy, the modeling world—and, by extension, society—shifted its focus to youth. Corporations began marketing to the new generation, and the obsession with youthful appearances was born.

The Evolution of Ageism

As the decades rolled on, ageism crept into every corner of our culture. Women in their 20s were prized for their youth, while men were allowed to grow older gracefully. But by the 21st century, even men weren’t spared from the pressures of ageism.

The 90s gave us the so-called "grandma" Madonna at 33, and the era of the supermodel was in full force. Kate Moss epitomized the appeal of youth, while the rise of reality TV in the 2000s, combined with the advent of social media, meant that everyone was now publicly comparing themselves to one another. Beauty standards became increasingly impossible—frozen foreheads, augmented bodies, and social media feeds filled with altered realities became the new normal.

The Kardashian effect took hold, redefining beauty with hyper-feminine, exaggerated aesthetics. Their influence continues to shape the beauty ideals of a generation. And while these trends have their place, they underscore the constant pressure to look younger, regardless of the cost.

Why “Anti-Aging” is Anti-Life

Here’s the truth: I love neuromodulators, dermal fillers, and laser treatments. They’re tools I use to keep my appearance fresh and rejuvenated. But the term I can’t stand is “anti-aging.”

Aging is a fundamental part of life. To be anti-aging is to be anti-human. The idea that we should fight aging at all costs is flawed—if we never aged, we would remain forever in diapers, incapable of growth or learning. Aging allows us to shed the naivety of youth, to grow into people who have lived, learned, and loved deeply.

Imagine being stuck in your teenage years—forever emotional, constantly hormonal, and endlessly unsure. No, thank you. I’ve lived through adolescence once, and I’m happy to leave it in the past.

Aging is essential. It tells the story of a life well-lived, and while some may choose to wear their wrinkles with pride, others—like me—choose to soften them. Both paths are valid, and it’s a personal choice we each make based on what feels right for us.

Rejuvenation vs. Anti-Aging

There’s a key distinction for me between “anti-aging” and “rejuvenation.” Both terms are used to sell the same products and services, but the language matters.

Anti-aging suggests that aging is something to fear, something to be fought against. It implies that age is a problem to be solved, that growing older means losing value. Rejuvenation, on the other hand, is about renewal. It’s about reinvigorating yourself, not erasing the years but refreshing your spirit.

When I look at my life, I’m grateful for every year I’ve had. I’ve been privileged to live this long—something that not all my friends were fortunate enough to experience. Aging is a gift, and we should cherish it.

Recently, I complimented a woman who had let her natural gray hair come through. It was stunning—like strands of silver in the sun. She told me that the pandemic had encouraged her to let her roots grow in, and she had decided to embrace her natural beauty. That’s the kind of confidence I admire—people who age on their own terms, unapologetically themselves.

Aging on Your Own Terms

As I grow older, I care less about what others think of me. What matters most is how I feel about myself. The opinions of others weigh far less on my mind. My goal is to find contentment within myself and my surroundings.

So, let me say this: do what feels best for you. The only person who should ever dictate how you look is you. And I, for one, will no longer support the idea of anti-aging. It’s time we embrace the privilege of growing older and live life on our own terms—rejuvenated, not erased.