What not to buy during a recession? Ask Gen Z

First came de-influencing, then the no-buy challenge, and now Gen Z is getting ready to face what social media has already dubbed “the second great depression”. A deliberately dramatic name, sure, but one that accurately reflects the collective mood of a generation raised amid cyclical economic crises, a pandemic, and chronic instability. Indeed, the only trend worth noting in 2025 is recession-core, which, unlike other trends that have passed away (R.I.P. Office Siren), continues to thrive, not by choice but out of necessity. What fuels it is not aesthetics but real-world economics. The looming trade war, fueled by Trump’s protectionist policies, is about to change global consumer habits radically. It’s not just a moral appeal, as the presidential rhetoric would suggest, but a genuine price shock: from food exports to non-essential goods, everything is about to cost more. And the average consumer, already under pressure, is starting to adapt. On TikTok, the perfect thermometer of collective anxiety, videos are multiplying with the same theme: “things I won’t buy during the 2025 recession”. Detailed lists, often delivered in a tone between irony and despair, reflect a newly imposed frugality. No impulsive spending, no aesthetic gratification, no daily indulgences. Only the essentials.

Among the first casualties of this sharp cutback are two categories that dominated 2024: trinkets and beauty. Small collectible objects – from Labubu to Sonny Angel – once symbols of comfort and individuality, are now perceived as frivolous expenses, unjustifiable in a time of recession. The videos make it clear, with a recurring rhetoric of “I don’t need them, I already have too many, they just take up space”. A growing disillusionment signals the decline of one of the most profitable micro-economies in recent years: the cuteness overload. The discourse extends to cosmetics and skincare. After years of self-care being pushed as a form of empowerment and daily ritual, the trend is reversing. The new mantra is to use up what you already own before buying anything new—a paradigm shift that hits middle-market brands the hardest, as they struggle to justify their prices without real innovation. Even athleisure, considered by analysts at Business of Fashion in recent months as fashion’s next big frontier, is now under scrutiny. This is evidenced by a viral video from creator @bitingabi, which racked up nearly 70,000 likes in under a week, where she critiques Aritzia’s latest “butter yellow” collection as unnecessary and irrelevant, especially due to its adherence to this season’s color trend.

But it's not just about material goods—experiences are being scaled back too. Influencer @elysiaberman, with nearly 180,000 followers and over 10 million likes, stated that among the things she’s cutting back on is alcohol. In a city like New York, where cocktails often exceed $20, the new tariffs on imported Tequila and Mezcal—projected to rise by 25%—turn a drink into not just a luxury but an economically unsustainable choice. Similarly, content creator @sakojoyce explained in a video that has garnered over 100,000 likes that she’s giving up her daily matcha latte, now reserved only for special occasions like her birthday. A symbolic but telling gesture—these micro-expenses, once seen as harmless indulgences, are now at the center of a newly tightened personal budget. In another video on the trend, the same user @sakojoyce pointed out that another experience she’s ready to cut back on is casual supermarket trips—those aimless runs to pick up unnecessary snacks or drinks.

What emerges from this new trend is not a more mindful or intentional approach to consumption, as one might romantically believe, but rather a forced adaptation to an economic climate that leaves little room for choice. There is nothing revolutionary or voluntary about this collective withdrawal: it is the direct result of a scenario marked by persistent inflation, global instability, growing geopolitical tensions, and protectionist policies that immediately impact the cost of living. Tariffs on a wide range of consumer goods—from food to beauty—are profoundly affecting both the availability and accessibility of products. In this context, talk of voluntary downshifting becomes misleading: this isn’t an ethical choice, but a condition imposed by external forces, often beyond personal control. Recession-core, then, is not merely an aesthetic of neutral outfits, basic cuts and desaturated palettes, it is now the visual expression of a new reality where abundance is no longer taken for granted. An aesthetic, yes—but above all a condition. A temporary strategy to stay afloat while waiting to see if, and when, things might change. That is, if they ever will.