Fashion has long been seen as a cultural mirror, reflecting not just shifts in style but deeper societal values. The choices we make in the clothes we wear—whether consciously or unconsciously—are a form of communication, signaling who we are and, perhaps more crucially, what we stand for. In recent years, a subtle but unmistakable shift has been occurring within fashion, one that suggests an alignment with traditional, conservative values. From the quiet luxury of neutral tones to the resurgence of minimalism, today’s fashion landscape appears to be retreating into a space of muted elegance and restrained glamour. But what do these trends really say about where we are as a society, and why now?
Among the most prominent of these trends is the “trad wife” movement, which has taken TikTok by storm. The lifestyles of Nara Smith and Ballerina Farm are rooted in the nostalgia of 1950s gender norms, this lifestyle glorifies women as homemakers who are dependent on their husbands, managing a domestic world that promises peace and contentment. But this sanitized portrayal of a bygone era is dangerously reductive. It erases the labor-intensive reality of motherhood and homemaking, simplifying a life of sacrifice and hard work into a picture-perfect fantasy. By reimagining womanhood as submission and dependence, it risks undermining women’s autonomy and reinforcing the very societal structures that feminism fought to dismantle. Furthermore, this movement is exclusionary in its narrow portrayal of white womanhood. The history of Black women, who have long been part of the workforce due to economic necessity, complicates the notion of a voluntary return to domesticity, one that is steeped in privilege.
This trend is not isolated but is part of a broader cultural embrace of simpler, more restrained aesthetics and attitudes that align with traditional, conservative values. Enter the “clean girl” aesthetic—a look that has become synonymous with minimalist fashion, immaculate grooming, and a polished, seemingly effortless image of success. Popularized on Instagram and TikTok, this aesthetic promotes an ideal of beauty and behavior that is calm, collected, and devoid of excess. While it may seem like just another beauty trend, its implications are far more insidious. The “clean girl” look values refinement and simplicity, with its muted tones, neutral colors, and perfect skin, suggesting that a woman’s worth is found in her ability to conform to this idealized standard. But more troubling is the way these beauty ideals contribute to a broader culture of exclusion. The “clean girl” aesthetic, like the quiet luxury trend, is steeped in privilege, positioning white, thin, and affluent ideals as the pinnacle of beauty while sidelining diverse representations of race and body types.
This shift also manifests in beauty trends, particularly in the growing popularity of the “no-makeup makeup” look. While some might see it as a celebration of natural beauty, there is something more layered at play. The trend, which champions subtlety and minimalism in how we present ourselves, can be viewed through the lens of conservative values, echoing a political climate where restraint and self-sufficiency are praised. It’s a look that suggests women should be content with their natural appearance, subtly reinforcing a narrative of compliance with traditional, heteronormative ideals. This reflects an ideal that aligns with conservative values of self-reliance that have been championed by figures like Donald Trump and the Republican Party, which prioritize personal responsibility and individual success over collective action or societal support.
In the realm of fashion, this preference for aesthetic minimalism mirrors the larger cultural shift toward conformity. The rise of subtle, neutral tones in fashion—whether in clothing, accessories, or even beauty products—signals a cultural pivot from individuality to mass consumption. In a world increasingly devoid of color and vibrancy, fashion itself seems to be retreating from the expressive freedom that once defined it. The minimalist look, with its emphasis on sleek lines and unobtrusive detail, suggests a world that values efficiency over creativity, consumption over expression. Where once fashion was about personal identity and rebellion, it is now about fitting in, blending in, and signaling one’s membership in the right social circles. This aesthetic shift parallels the broader political realignment seen in the Republican Party, where there is a growing trend toward conformity, discipline, and a rejection of flamboyance, echoing the Trump-era focus on traditionalism and control.
If this sounds familiar, it’s because the cultural landscape has been increasingly influenced by political forces that place a premium on quiet conformity. The rise of Trumpism, for instance, has seen a rejection of flamboyance in favor of a more reserved and controlled aesthetic. Even the trend of dissolving facial fillers and rejecting overt plastic surgery can be interpreted as a response to a political moment that prioritizes authenticity over artifice. This shift is not just happening on the political stage; it’s also reflected in how we present our bodies to the world. The rise of conservative social media influencers who promote “natural” beauty is a direct response to the liberal ideals of body positivity that have dominated previous years. This embrace of authenticity mirrors conservative values that reject what they view as the left’s embrace of excess or hyperbolic self-expression.
It’s in these trends that the most troubling elements of Gen Z’s conservatism become clear. At their core, they are about individualism—the idea that one’s worth is determined by personal success and self-reliance rather than by collective action or social solidarity. This philosophy of “us versus them” reinforces societal fragmentation, as the emphasis on self-improvement and self-reliance comes at the expense of community, activism, and broader social change. It is a conservative ideology that wraps itself in the language of empowerment, offering women the illusion of freedom while subtly confining them to narrow, traditional roles. The political narrative of “pulling yourself up by your bootstraps” is evident here, as individuals are encouraged to achieve success on their own terms, without any reliance on government or community support.Take, for example, the recent resurgence of styles from the mid-20th century, particularly the 1950s (a critique by New York Times writer Vanessa Friedman). At the 2025 Golden Globe Awards, a number of A-list celebrities channeled vintage aesthetics, harkening back to an era marked by a sense of societal order and decorum. Ariana Grande wore a 1966 Givenchy couture column gown in buttery silk, while Selena Gomez opted for a Prada ice-blue dress reminiscent of a 1960s style. Zendaya’s satin Louis Vuitton gown, complete with an overskirt, seemed to pay homage to 1950s Hollywood glamour.
While these looks were undeniably beautiful, they felt more like a retreat than a leap forward. The trend of retro nostalgia dominates the fashion scene, as if the desire to mimic the past offers a sense of security in an uncertain political and social climate. In times of turbulence, it is often easier to seek refuge in what we know, even if it means sacrificing the potential for modernity or innovation. This yearning for a return to past norms is reflective of a broader desire for political stability, often symbolized by the Republican Party’s call for “Make America Great Again”, a slogan that echoes a longing for a simpler, more predictable world.
What makes these fashion choices particularly striking is their alignment with the broader cultural moment. There is a certain neurosis about looking silly that has permeated Hollywood in the wake of viral worst-dressed lists and a growing emphasis on stylists and image control. This fear of misstep has stifled creativity in favor of a more refined, restrained approach that signals respectability. And it’s not just Hollywood; this trend has filtered down into everyday life, where subtlety in style and beauty has become a sign of good taste and upward mobility. This reflects the values of American conservatism, where appearances and reputation hold significant weight, and a well-maintained, conservative image is seen as a mark of credibility and respectability.
At the same time, the over-saturation of trends in recent years—ranging from rainbow-colored hair to body modifications—has led to a reactionary desire for simplicity. The “anti-aesthetic” movement, once beloved by Gen Z, with its embrace of neon dyes and piercing, now feels increasingly passe. Even blue hair, once a radical feminist statement beginning in the 2010s, is now seen as a mark of rebellion that feels out of sync with the current cultural moment. People are opting for more subdued hair colors, opting for shades like “latte” or “utah curls,” which have less visual impact but more cultural cachet. This shift signals a move toward conservative ideals of simplicity and moderation, rejecting the more radical, progressive expressions of individuality.
But it’s not just about hair and makeup. Fashion, too, has adopted a more minimalist, less overtly creative approach. We see this in the continued dominance of brands that champion quiet, understated luxury—think Loro Piana, The Row, and Jil Sander—all of which have embraced a pared-back approach that contrasts with the maximalism of the past decade. The result is a wardrobe that signals a return to an earlier, more conservative era—one where subtlety was seen as a form of power.
Yet, there are still pockets of resistance, like the outliers who choose to make bold statements through fashion. Take Ayo Edebiri, who wore a Loewe trouser suit with a gold feather tie, or Jeremy Strong, whose jade-green Loro Piana suit paired with a matching bucket hat challenged the traditional notions of red-carpet attire. These choices may be rare, but they remind us that fashion, like politics, is never a one-way street. Even as we see a growing trend towards nostalgia and conservatism, there remains space for those who wish to subvert the norms.
So, as we continue to witness the growing trend of minimalism and retro-chic in fashion, we must ask ourselves: is this just a cyclical return to the past, or is it an indication of deeper shifts in societal values? It seems that fashion, as always, is reflecting a larger cultural moment, one that seeks comfort in conformity and security in tradition. Whether this trend will endure or evolve remains to be seen, but for now, it’s clear that the future of fashion is being shaped by a sense of restraint—an aesthetic that quietly says, “the past was better.”