Over the past year, as the masses dipped their acrylic nails into the trends of the Y2K era, a new revival was brewing. Call it indie sleaze, or sleaze-core, or hipster comeback. Either way, it feels like a nostalgic ode to the slutty, sloppy “It”-girl style born in Brooklyn bars, blog posts, and BBMs. Led by mood-board Instagram accounts like @indiesleaze, the revival first appeared online, where TikTok trend forecasters like @oldloserinbrooklyn circulated forgotten Cobrasnake photos of Cory Kennedy and other party girls from around the world. Myspace era. Now as then, flash photography-adjusted photos are a big part of the trend, at least according to stylist Meg Yates, who dresses in flats and sailor hats, and hands out dressing tips messy on his tongue-in-cheek blog The Hipster Portal. But make no mistake, this trend isn’t a celebration of frumpy sweaters and animal print socks. It’s a reinterpretation of the sordid style of the late 2000s created by brands like American Apparel, whose notoriously graphic ad campaigns entice today’s teens to wear Jeffrey Campbell Lita platforms and bandeau bras like tops, or at least to make video montages of other people who wear them.

The hipster revival may be played online, but it’s not just a virtual dress-up game. For Saint Laurent’s SS22 collection, Anthony Vaccarello channeled the ’80s through the mid-’00s, sending shiny spandex pants and jumpsuits reminiscent of American Apparel’s disco leggings onto the catwalk, while new Streetwear brands like Praying are bringing back tongue-in-cheek t-shirts emblazoned with slogans like “God’s Favorite.” Even Dov Charney’s American Apparel has been reincarnated (the new web-only brand is called Los Angeles Apparel) and wears the same pleated miniskirts and cool girl favorite jumpsuits from decades past. The revival is also being felt in New York’s nightclubs, where DJs spin music from late-sevens indie acts like Lykke Li and La Roux, and up-and-coming electroclash-inspired bands like Club Eat. perform live for sweaty audiences. Party photography is back, as are Gawker, blogging and Tao Lin. Children even collect “vintage” iPods to discover old music. Simply put: alt is in it.

All clothes by Isabel funny

For those who missed the first iteration of indie sleaze, the revival is refreshing, especially in the age of Instagram filters and Facetune sizes, when the pressure to be perfect online has replaced our collective desire to take risks with beauty and fashion. Like previous subcultures, the sleaze aesthetic is an invitation to rebel against the mainstream, get messy, dress sexy, and have fun with style. In fact, it’s the poser punk ethos of indie culture, once proliferated by magazines like Adbusters and “activists” like Dov Charney, whose racy ad campaigns were complemented by a “Sweatshop Free” slogan, that make the independent revival so appealing.

John by Acne Studios

But embracing the trend has a dark side. For Gen Z kids, this subversion requires self-sexualization and grappling with the problematic past of hipster culture. Along with the flat hats, physical fliers and a fuck attitude towards mainstream culture came DJs like Steve Aoki, famous for pouring vodka down the throats of Molly-addled ravers, and photographers like Terry Richardson, who made the bank from exploiting women. Ironic racism was present (as the once-popular blog, Hipster Runoff, could attest), as were white-centric posts like Vice, whose co-founder Gavin McInnes later brought the hipster aesthetic to the Proud Boys, the far-right hate group he founded. There have even been allegations that workers hired by sustainability-minded Charney have been subjected to racial slurs. In fact, the sleaze CEO has become even more notorious for his inappropriate, even abusive, relationships with American Apparel models and employees, than for his rebellious attitude.

All clothing and accessories by Burberry

So why, in the post-#MeToo moment, are kids so quickly adopting a trend ironically dubbed after perverts and jerks? Perhaps it’s nostalgia for a time before cancel culture, when people didn’t have to worry about being called for every micro-mistake they made online. Or maybe it’s an ode to the era of blogging, when niche trendsetters, not algorithms, dictated trends. If so, we’d better view the indie sleaze revival as a byproduct of the “Roaring Twenties,” a desire to ignite the tyranny of fashion and good taste. But in the age of social media, indie sleaze is not a subculture, nor a rebellion. If anything, it’s just another blip in the micro-trendscape created by Instagram, a hashtag destined to tangle with the Y2K revival before it.

John by Acne Studios, Shoes by golden goose

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Models: Coco Campbell, Erica Jules, Rips, Destiny Strudwick, and Meg Yates

Hair: Sean Bennet

Reconcile: Coco Campbell

Manicure: Yukie Miyakawa using Essie

Site: Hotel Indigo Lower East Side

Post production: ramon martinez