How a new sustainability trend proves inaccessible to students, and what they can do instead
Millie Beatch (she/her) // Contributor
Natasha Jones (she/her) // Illustrator
There is no shortage of online discourse when it comes to shopping trends and the question of their accessibility, whether they advocate for more spending or less. Such is the case with a new minimalist trend, known as the “no-buy year.”
The movement, which gained traction through TikTok, is a year-long challenge during which people do not purchase any non-essential items, usually to purge themselves of compulsive consumerism. These expendable items include new clothes, gifts, makeup or jewelry and fast/take-out food.
Currently, #nobuy on TikTok has 36.5 million views, and the subreddit r/nobuy has 51 thousand members. Scrolling through the dash you’ll see testimonials, progress updates and success stories. But the intensity of an entire no-buy year—the planning, rationing and elimination of common student costs like transportation and takeout food—makes no-buy fairly inaccessible for students.
There is a slightly relaxed version of this trend, the low-buy year. This entails a reduction of unnecessary purchases, usually things like extra clothes or makeup, but does not forbid certain items altogether. Low-buy may provide a less daunting but still well-structured alternative for students who want to experiment with minimalism.
Though the no-buy year trend is a near reversal of fast fashion’s crazed consumerism, it begs many of the same questions about classism and corporate responsibility that Shein hauls and thrifting did. A common rebuke of fast fashion critics is an accusation of classism. Fast fashion is cheap and accessible; it’s an easy choice for those who can’t afford luxury items or don’t have the time to research all the brands that they buy.
These concerns apply just as aptly to no-buy. No new clothes, no gifts, no makeup or jewelry and limited take-out food, for those who already have full closets and enjoy elaborate meal-prepping at the beginning of the week, might be an easy gap to bridge. But that isn’t the case for lots of students, who might have moved for school and left essentials at home, or don’t have the space and time for home-cooked meals.
Other aspects of the no-buy year include reduction of transportation costs, which is difficult for anyone traveling long distances to attend school, as many Capilano University students do. Keeping detailed track of spending and noting whenever rules are breached is another time-consuming activity busy students might balk at.
The intense restriction required for no-buy may even discourage students from making real efforts at more sustainable living by structuring it as a polarizing, all-or-nothing binary.
The task appears Herculean in its demands. It also threatens to redirect the culpability for certain kinds of mass consumption squarely onto the individual as compared to the corporations that profit off of hyperconsumerism.
This isn’t to say that the individual has no power here. The unique prominence of internet trends can affect real-world change, for better or for worse, and Shein is a prime example. The hashtag #sheinhaul went viral on TikTok during the pandemic, and Shein is now the largest online fashion retailer worldwide, despite its extensive rap sheet of worker’s rights violations. The internet and TikTok are undoubtedly powerful and influential tools, and thus their trends have tangible effects. So, how can students inspired by the no-buy trend and its very real, potentially positive anti-consumerist influence translate that into something feasible on their budgets?
This is where that tempered version of the no-buy year, the low–buy year, could be a workable alternative. Low-buy does not require the same rigidity, and nothing is off-limits. Instead, the focus is on cutting down on one’s spending, however one can. And since living in Vancouver is expensive, especially for young people, struggling students may find putting the specific language of a ‘challenge’ to their budgeting helpful.
For example, if someone’s weakness is overspending on books, they could try the school library first, but allow one or two new ones per month. Rather than committing to an entire year, try a month, or a week, even. Instead of the all-or-nothing of a no-buy year, students can try to do whatever they can, while acknowledging the ways in which they are already overburdened.
Even though a no-buy year is likely not feasible for the average student, the low-buy version, through its use of the power of trends and the helpful vocabulary they put to our ideas, may interest students looking to live more sustainably on their budgets.
