From game-day outfit inspiration to dorm necessities, social media has quietly been raising the price tag of the “college experience,” and students are failing to realize just how influential this culture is.
If you scroll through Instagram or TikTok during football season, you’ll see it: perfectly coordinated game-day outfits, nail inspo, tailgate necessities and so much more. Amazon storefronts fill influencer bios, making it feel like you’re missing something materialistic in your “average” life. Influencer culture has evolved into a meticulously curated production.
At a school as visible and as highly ranked as UIUC—where Greek life thrives and Big Ten sports boom—college no longer feels like just showing up to class, but rather, it is about doing everything in your daily routine aesthetically.
Social media has increasingly praised the “clean-girl” trend and perfect, polished routines. A coffee run becomes a documented lifestyle statement. A football game becomes a fashion show. A study session becomes a time-lapsed performance of productivity.
It’s fun to watch and fun to recreate, but it’s also expensive.
Game days now mean new outfits weekly, adhering to the themes and school colors. Rush looks like fashion week, with outfits curated months in advance. Spring break becomes a production set for a coordinated Instagram feed. None of this is required for a good college experience, yet when it dominates social media, it feels necessary.
There’s a shift I’ve noticed as a first-year student: college used to be about participation, but now it feels like constant performance. Financially, this matters. With tuition rising and loans tightening nationally, students are juggling part-time jobs, rigorous classes and handling overpriced textbooks. Trust me, I’ve been there. Adding social-media-driven consumption increases the cost of fitting in.
What makes this new-wave culture so powerful is how subtle the pressure is. To the naked eye, it seems like self-care and confidence. But when every moment becomes an opportunity for content, the line between self-expression and algorithm-driven spending merges. Women in college seem to experience this more intensely. We’re marketing self-care, fitness and productivity tools as empowerment, AKA “your NEEDS for college.” Recently, empowerment has shifted from authenticity to commission links.
That said, I still love social media. Influencer culture isn’t inherently bad. It amplified women’s voices and has created millions of financial opportunities for women globally. The real question isn’t whether it’s good or bad, but how consciously we, as viewers, participate. When I shop online, I’ve caught myself wondering: do I actually like this, or did I just see it on TikTok?
College is already expensive. The last thing students need is an unspoken tax to be handling. Maybe the best response to this growing issue is simply opting out–refusing the pressure to perform and choosing authenticity instead. Because the best parts of college, at least from what I have experienced so far, have been when the phones are put away, the late-night talks with my roommate, the messy apartments and the imperfect outfits. Those moments were never meant to be filtered anyway.