Lucille Paranjape ’27 is a student in AP English Language and Composition who participated in and won the 2026 Blueprint Op-Ed Contest.
As a young girl, I wanted nothing more than to be badass. My future self wore all black. She had a choppy, neon green side, shave and paintings of ink wrapped around every inch of her body. She wasn’t afraid to be exactly who she wanted to be at every given moment. She was the coolest person I knew.
Somewhere along the journey to fulfill my childhood dreams, I uncovered the label for my aspirations; a label loaded with political, social, and cultural meaning: Alternative.
As I delved deeper into my goal, I gained context for the edgy mood I craved. See, many individuals have been continually disappointed by the push for conformity emanating from mainstream culture. According to Britannica, by blending their sociopolitical ideologies with new sounds and expressive styles, individuals created unique identities within countercultural communities.
Built upon pillars of antiracism, anticonsumerism, environmentalism, and marxism, alternative subcultures adopted traits that reflected their priorities. From dyed hair and piercings to edgy, DIY fashion, different subcultures found ways to express their anti-establishment position.
But as time progressed, culture shifted. The digital age brought about a new wave of conformity, driven by ever-changing aesthetics and trends. Ironically, counterculture was among the first victims.
In a 2024 YouTube video, tattoo artist and content creator Celle states that social media has created an “increasing pressure for everyone to fit themselves into their own little hashtag box in order to please…the algorithm.” In other words: you must conform to be perceived.
And so we did, boiling down our subcultures into their look. Punk’s anti-establishment rage became dyed hair and eccentric clothing. Goth’s dark romanticism became pale makeup and corsets. And the ‘alternative’ idea became a label that creators could slap onto their videos to generate more attention.
In a 2022 WMagazine article, Kristen Bateman explains how the digital introduction of subcultures has also transformed the consumer landscape. Users are fed cookie-cutter aesthetics that appeal to them, and brands/designers have taken note of their new interest. Bateman references Marc Jacobs’ division of his label Heaven, which is inspired by Y2K, punk, and grunge looks. She also states that “Rick Owens and Marine Serre both went Goth for their respective spring 2021 runway shows”. As elements of alternative style have been seized by mainstream designers, individuals outside of alternative spheres have come to adopt the look.
The rise of fast fashion companies is indicative of modern aestheticization.
In an NPR Article about fast fashion and American consumerism, business correspondent Alina Selyukh states that “Shein drops up to 10,000 new items on its website daily,” illustrating the consumer demand for novel items, as well as the growing overconsumption culture. Alternative fashion, due to its online popularity, is one of the leading categories on the site. However, the consumerist models of fast fashion sites often contradict alternative values, as alternative style was widely created in opposition to mass consumerism, with a focus on DIY and mindful consumption.
Have people forgotten the true origin of alternative culture? Are alternative subcultures now purely performed for an audience online? Since alternative communities have widely integrated into conforming culture, who counts as a poser, and moreover, how can a culture police authenticity when they themselves have become a part of a superficial society?
Oftentimes, alternative individuals will take it upon themselves to expose people who they perceive to be posers. Medium User Vie Darling shares her experience, stating that she “can’t begin to tell you how many times [she has] worn a punk shirt and had guys at dive bars ask [her] ‘do you even listen to that band?’”. By excluding people within alternative communities, in-group rejection is normalized and the values of inclusion that built the subculture are eroded.
Of course, exclusion can be helpful to preserving the authenticity of cultural spaces. In a 2025 article, columnist Ann Fredman references the ‘Do Gatekeep’ movement perpetuated by Black Tiktokers, in which they don’t correct White misuse of Black slang in order to keep its meaning precious and maintain the Black origins of AAVE.
But in a culture that was built by and for nonconformists, excluding people who don’t conform to the cultures’ aesthetic binaries fundamentally destroys the integrity of that same culture. Rather, we should work to educate people who seek out alternative spaces and aesthetics.
Because maybe that young girl who attempts to express herself wants to be alternative. Maybe she wants to be a part of a nonconforming culture, she just doesn’t know how. Show her the right path, because otherwise she’ll fall down a rabbithole of conformity, whether via the mainstream or via binaries perpetuated by the culture she strives to embrace.
She yearns to cool. So show her how to be truly badass.
