I am not going to let someone online tell me what I can and can’t wear. Trust me — my mom’s been trying for years and no luck.

Some recognize the start of autumn as the changing colours of leaves, brisk weather, and the comforting sentiment that Halloween (my favourite day of the year) is just around the corner. Others, however, associate it with the return of Starbucks’ infamous pumpkin spice latté, which made its long-awaited re-appearance this year on Aug. 24.

While I am a fan of a good, autumnal PSL, many turn their nose up at the drink. They condemn the latté to be nothing more than a red flag: a tell-tale sign of a basic girl. I find this absolutely ridiculous and, frankly, rather pretentious. As of late, it seems nothing is safe from being criticized for being “out of style.”

My question is: who cares?

Who is making these rules, and why should we listen? If we cannot comfortably order our favourite drinks at Starbucks, what can we do? Is nothing sacred anymore?

I am not going to let someone online tell me what I can and can’t wear. Trust me — my mom’s been trying for years and no luck.

I take issue with this attack on being “basic” — an attack that seems to be perpetrated by a crowd riddled with individuality complexes.

Trend cycles are moving faster than ever before with the help of social media and TikTok’s popularization of “cheugy” culture — a new term used to describe things that are, like, totally last season. Keep in mind: last season could mean as recently as a month ago. It seems that one might order a piece of clothing and have it be deemed ‘out of style’ before it even arrives at the front door. 

There must truly be a fine line between love and hate. What was once on everyone’s Instagram will be ridiculed on a viral TikTok and all the comments will say that, unlike the majority of people, they never liked it in the first place. Going against the grain of what’s in is a vicious, unfulfilling, and infinite cycle.

This phenomenon extends to celebrities, as well. Somehow, someone like Charlie D’Amelio becomes rapidly, explosively famous. Despite amassing over 100 million followers, making fun of her is the new cool thing to do. It’s the equally pretentious counterpart of “I liked it before it was cool” — “I never liked it at all.” 

It is time to examine this dialogue of what is “cool” and what is “basic” for what it is: misogynistic. Riddle me this: why is it that every few months, there is a new popular item that everyone absolutely adores and suddenly, just as quickly as it came into public appeal, it will be on the chopping block? Worse, why does it seem to be solely in reference to feminine clothing. It is time to examine this dialogue of what is “cool” and what is “basic” for what it is: misogynistic. Riddle me this: why is it that every few months, there is a new popular item that everyone absolutely adores and suddenly, just as quickly as it came into public appeal, it will be on the chopping block? Low-rise jeans, high-rise jeans, cow print, chunky white sneakers, hoop earrings — things we know will be back, since they always are? Worse, why does it seem to be solely in reference to feminine clothing?

More often than not, every boy I see is wearing the same combination of athleisure year-round, and yet, I have never seen internet discourse tearing them down for their apparel the way I see women being ridiculed for liking things routinely without fail.

I believe this near-constant fixation on being unique is the fault of the toxic mentality that it is uncool to be like the other girls. Most women have once participated in this culture — some of us still do. It’s an evolved form of not liking the colour pink, saying that hanging out with boys is less drama, and feeling a little bit guilty for loving romantic comedies.

I’m sure at one point, I’ve done my fair share of being too cool to be feminine.

However, it’s not our fault that we feel this need to be different. It is how we were socialized. Internalized misogyny is derived from plain and simple, old-fashioned misogyny.

Why do women and girls feel the need to reject articles deemed feminine by society? Of course, it is because of the manner in which the “not like the other girls” notion is reinforced by a patriarchal society’s portrayal of women as inherently uncool.

Think about the depiction of women in film. It’s always the girl who reads at the party who gets the guy. It’s the shy and nerdy girl who is portrayed as morally and intellectually superior to the popular girl who wants to be prom queen. She is regarded as extraordinary because she is unlike the rest of the girls in the movie — who are, of course, implied to be vapid, unintelligent, and uninteresting. Women are depicted as one-dimensional edifices that exist in a binary. Media of this nature pushes the narrative that women can be either basic or interesting, smart or beautiful, artsy or attractive — never both.

However, it is time that we snap out of this internalized misogyny and let girls like what they like. Women are a lot more than the manic pixie dream girls that indie movies make them out to be. They are not limited to being a, b, or c. They are often d — all of the above.

It’s time to abandon the binaries. Let them wear mom jeans or skinny jeans — whatever they feel confident in. Let them wear Air Force 1s or Doc Martens on their feet, and shop at Brandy Melville or Hot Topic — or both! Let them wholeheartedly embrace “Christian Girl Autumn”. Let them eat avocado toast and post about it on their story with a VSCO filter. Let them wear blanket scarves, knee-high boots, and cozy sweaters they all bought from the same store in their local mall. Has anyone considered that some things are popular for a reason?

Likewise, men who paint their nails, dress in something other than basketball shorts or sweatpants, or wear earrings are often critiqued for appearing too feminine — the misogyny continues. 

The truth is, there is no point in chasing what is trendy. Throughout the past decade alone, what is in and what is out has undergone substantial change time and time again — and it will only continue to.

Picture this: it’s the year 2012. I’m sporting my best pair of leggings and a graphic t-shirt with some sort of snarky saying. Most likely, it’s one of those “keep calm and…” shirts. If it’s a good day, there may be galaxy print or a mustache featured somewhere on my outfit. My hair is kept neatly out of my face with a skinny lululemon headband. All is well.

Soon enough, the year is 2016. I am wearing ripped skinny jeans and a flannel as I lounge in my room, which is wallpapered floor to ceiling in One Direction paraphernalia. I send streaks on Snapchat using the dog filter while listening to a 5 Seconds of Summer album — it’s a typical day.

Presently, the year is 2021. Skinny jeans are out, mom jeans are in. I rarely leave the house without my canvas tote bag, Fjallraven Kanken backpack, or the same little baguette purse that half of campus has. Corsets, sweater vests, and leather pants are all the rage. What is cool one month is uncool the next.

My point is this: coolness is fleeting. Nothing is timeless. Wear what you want.