30-07-2025
The quiet rebellion against fashion's social media algorithms
Social media has transformed fashion from a seasonal art form into a relentless cycle of consumption, powered by influencer culture, algorithmic micro-trends, and a deeply human need to belong. But as much as it accelerates fast fashion 's grip, social media also holds potential as a tool for resistance – one that campaigners and educators are learning to wield with nuance and purpose.
'Fashion marketing will go wherever the people are,' says Venetia La Manna, fair fashion campaigner and co-founder of Remember Who Made Them. 'Social media is an ideal place for brands to market to us, because the apps are free, so we think we're not paying. But we are—giving away our data, our attention, and often, our money.'
Platforms like Instagram and TikTok have collapsed the distance between runway and wardrobe. Where once trends emerged over months, they now rise and fall in days – atomised into micro-trends dictated by clicks, views, and virality. Tamsin Blanchard, journalist and long-time advocate for ethical fashion, describes this as the "death of the season" and 'the end of meaningful subcultures', where even music-led trends vanish in a puff of plastic cowboy hats.
Meanwhile, fast fashion giants like Shein have weaponised this speed, using influencers not only to promote but to test what will sell, producing limited runs based on likes, and scaling up before a trend has even peaked. 'Retailers have become algorithm-led,' says Blanchard. 'The system is now built for waste.'
The psychology of the scroll
From a psychological perspective, the allure of fast fashion's rapid turnover runs deep. Fashion psychologist Dion Terrelonge, explains that our desire to keep up is rooted in two fundamental human needs: belonging and novelty.
'Social media exploits our tribal instincts,' she says. 'Historically, being part of a group meant safety and access to resources. One way we signal belonging is through what we wear. When everyone's chasing the same aesthetic, it's about fitting in.'
But it's also about chasing something new. 'Our brains are hardwired for novelty,' Terrelonge adds. 'It's how we learn and engage with the world.' That need for freshness makes us especially vulnerable to the next must-have look – fuelling endless cycles of buying, discarding, and starting again.
The psychological toll is profound. Influencer culture often presents highly curated, idealised lifestyles that stretch the gap between who we are and who we think we should be. 'The bigger that gap, the more room for discontent,' says Terrelonge. 'We try to fill it with stuff – but the gap never closes, because the target keeps moving.'
Influencing for good?
For Venetia La Manna, that same algorithmic ecosystem is a battleground, and one she's determined to subvert. Her Instagram account offers sharp, funny takedowns of corporate greenwashing, disguised as glossy influencer content. 'You might think you're watching an ad,' she laughs, 'but boom – we're cooking up a corporation.'
In 2020, as garment workers were left unpaid for completed orders during the pandemic, La Manna co-launched a campaign spotlighting their voices urging brands to pay up. Guided by advice from garment unions, she uses her platform to hold fashion's biggest players accountable. 'I try to punch up at every opportunity,' she says. 'Especially in a cost of living crisis.'
Though she believes people can and do change, La Manna places more emphasis on structural reform than personal shopping habits. She points to a 2023 protest that called out Boohoo's ethical claims, resulting in national media coverage and a £55m drop in the company's share price.
The power of connection
Despite the dominance of digital trends, the seeds of resistance are sprouting offline too. 'There's real power in face-to-face learning,' says Blanchard. 'When we teach children to sew on a button, swap clothes, or fix a hem, they start to see clothes differently – not as disposable, but personal.'
She also sees promise in fashion education: encouraging young people to develop personal style rather than being led by TikTok's ever-changing moods. 'Knowing what suits you and having the confidence to wear it – that's more sustainable than any algorithm could ever be.'
Terrelonge agrees that rewiring our relationship with fashion starts with self-understanding. 'Good psychology always asks: why? Why do I want this? What am I trying to fix?' she says. 'When we understand the emotional drivers behind our consumption, we're in a better position to change it.'
Tool or trap?
One of social media's greatest contradictions is its ability to simultaneously connect and distance. While it's widened our exposure to the injustices behind our clothes, it can also flatten or obscure them. 'We're not great at empathising with people we don't see as part of our in-group,' says Terrelonge. 'And our brains will avoid discomfort when it threatens our wellbeing.'
But this same digital proximity can also foster solidarity. As La Manna's campaigns show, seeing garment workers as real people, not faceless labour, can shift the story. 'If we're to really disrupt the system, we need systemic change, and that comes from organising and grassroots activism'.
Ultimately, social media is neither the villain nor the hero in fashion's future – it's the mirror. And what it reflects depends on who's holding it.
In an era of climate anxiety, fast fashion, and endless scrolling, it's easy to feel detached from the natural world. But could that disconnection be driving our desire to consume more – especially when it comes to what we wear? We're conducting a short survey to explore how our relationship with nature affects our fashion habits, and whether social media plays a role in shaping our choices. It takes just a few minutes, your input is completely confidential and will help provide insight into modern attitudes on sustainability and consumption.
