How the 'It' Girls' of Paris are quietly ditching Hype Fashion

Once upon a trend cycle, fashion's elite were defined by their ability to score the It-item of the  moment. Think Jacquemus’ Le Chiquito, the Dior Saddle revival, or anything with a logo that  could be spotted from 20 feet away. But stroll through Paris in 2025, and something feels different. Today’s Parisians aren’t chasing virality. The hype fatigue is real, and in its place is something slower, subtler, and infinitely more personal. What we’re seeing is a shift from recognition to intention. Through forgotten collections, flea  market JPG, and vintage Mugler from '98, they’re telling stories—in an era defined by more  wearable, less shouty fashion. This movement toward rarity and intention is more than just an  aesthetic pivot—it’s a quiet, deliberate shift in values. Parisian tastemakers are leaning into a  slower, more intimate form of fashion. Opting for pieces with depth: a SS98 Margiela jacket found on eBay, a faded Helmut Lang tank discovered at a Montreuil flea market, or a pair of deadstock André Courrèges boots passed down from an aunt. 

It’s about standing out not through flash, but through fluency—knowing what to wear, but  seemingly also, knowing what not to. It could be a rebellion against fast fashion or against the influencer culture and algorithm-fueled sameness. But at the same time, it raises the question: is this actually a rejection of exclusivity, or just a more refined version of it? Because the truth is, this kind of taste—quiet, coded, hard to Google—is just as aspirational. Still, in an age where  trends are recycled at the speed of a scroll, this shift toward quiet luxury, fashion-as-storytelling, and lived-in authenticity feels like the closest thing we’ve had to a reset. The retail side is catching on. Vintage boutiques are popping up all over Paris, and the lines for them are long. The streets of Le Marais are packed with shoppers willing (and eager) to dig through  dust in search of that vintage Chanel. Of course, it’s also about what’s affordable, but the archives hold a different kind of value. As the hypebeast era cools off, even celebs and A-listers are digging for vintage. 

Platforms like Vestiaire Collective, The RealReal, Vinted and Depop are becoming the go-to shopping spots for this wave. According to ThredUp’s 2025 Resale Report (in partnership with  GlobalData), the global secondhand apparel market is projected to hit $367 billion (approximately €340 billion EUR) by 2029, growing five times faster than traditional retail. With new clothes  becoming more expensive due to tariffs and trade policies, 59% of shoppers and 69% of Millennials say they’re turning to secondhand instead. Social media and AI are also playing a role, with 48% of consumers saying AI tools make shopping  secondhand feel just as seamless as buying new according to the report. A notable bonus is that  the likelihood of someone else owning your exact item is slim. These platforms offer uniqueness.  It’s no longer just about affordability or sustainability—it’s about the thrill of finding something no one else has. The secondhand scroll has become the new treasure hunt. 

Interestingly, this quiet resistance is still finding its way onto social media. Vintage hauls are gaining serious traction on TikTok and Instagram, but they don’t follow the usual influencer formula. There’s no “shop this look” link, no promo code, no direct route to replication. And that’s  the point. You watch the video not to find the identical piece, but to discover something adjacent. The goal is to get inspired by the style and make it your own, fostering a shopping experience that reintroduces individuality. Let’s not ignore that this is still, at its core, about status. After all, what’s more exclusive than a piece no one else can name? In some ways, this is fashion’s final boss level: taste so discreet, it’s practically untraceable. Still, there’s something undeniably refreshing here. It feels more lived-in, more personal, more free. Because in Paris right now, it’s about dressing quietly to make the loudest statement.