Source | Liu Run Zhihu, Ta Kan) When performers voice the things we usually keep bottled up—things we dare not say or don't know how to express—in a playful, self-deprecating way, you feel: "Oh my god! How does he know what I'm thinking?" "Yes, yes, yes! That's exactly me!" At that moment, you feel seen and understood. You're not alone in this fight; everyone is more or less the same. Perhaps in the future, products and services centered around "humor" will see growing demand.
The Uniqueness of "This Dress Is One of a Kind"
Third, there's the uniqueness of wearing a "limited edition" piece of clothing. Wearing a luxury item with a prominent logo might express "I'm different," but the barrier is high, and you might soon "clash" with someone else wearing the same. Vintage clothing is a more niche, more "stylish" way to express yourself. It's second-hand, but not just any second-hand. First, it's one of a kind. In today's world of fast fashion, wearing the same outfit as someone else is common. But a vintage piece is likely a unique item. That pair of 1970s flared trousers you found is probably one of only a few in the world, or even the only one. Wear them, and you're a walking "limited edition." Second, vintage carries a sense of story. A piece of clothing that has gone through the years may bear the marks of its previous owner and have witnessed an era. Someone once wore it; when you wear it, you feel connected to the past, possessing a unique charm. Imagine wearing a dress from the 1950s or 1960s, whose original owner wore it to support Xinjiang—wouldn't you feel a bit more retro elegance? Of course, cost-effectiveness is also a key factor. Why not buy clothes from famous brands with excellent quality at a relatively low price? In China, vintage culture isn't as mature as in Japan, but it's developing rapidly. In Beijing, Shanghai, and Chengdu, there are many stylish vintage shops hidden away. On Xiaohongshu, searching for "vintage" or "second-hand treasure hunting" yields a flood of outfit ideas and store recommendations.
The Comfort of "Going Back to the Past"
Fourth, there's the comfort found in reminiscing about the past. Besides seeking uniqueness, we sometimes yearn to draw strength from the past. Japan has a trend of "Showa retro" consumption. That era, roughly 1926-1989, was a period of high economic growth, relative social stability, and vitality, especially in its mid-to-late years. For those who lived through it, it's a "shining" memory; for young people who didn't, it's a "golden age" constantly mentioned by parents and media, full of romantic imagination. Teacher Xie Wenbo specifically points out that this "retro consumption" isn't entirely nostalgia. Many young participants never actually experienced the Showa era. What they're fascinated by isn't the era itself, but the optimism, stability, and human touch it represents. By consuming things with "Showa symbols," they express reflection on current society and a longing for a more humane, more certain life. How to go back? Visit a café that perfectly replicates the Showa era, order a coffee brewed with a siphon pot, sit on an old leather sofa, and listen to the era's hit songs—it feels like time has reversed. Imagine a café in Beijing that perfectly recreates a 1980s hutong corner store, selling Beibingyang soda and orange candy, with old movie posters on the walls—wouldn't you be tempted to sit there? Beijing's Wangfujing Peace Fruit Bureau features a Republican-era bazaar, a photo studio, a 1950s-60s train station, and a 1970s-80s grain and oil store, blending culture and commerce. And in Changsha, Wenheyou brings the old city's street scenes into a modern mall, recreating a 1980s Changsha community, attracting countless visitors for photos. (Image source: Zhihu, Space Image Design) In the future, products, services, or experiences that skillfully use nostalgic elements to provide a sense of belonging will also have a significant market.
The Co-creation Feeling of "I'm in Charge Here!"
Fifth, there's the co-creation feeling of participating in and supporting a project. Another interesting phenomenon is "universal support," or a special manifestation of crowdfunding culture in Japan. In Japan, crowdfunding carries a sense of "support" and "participation." Suppose a young person wants to open a particularly interesting bookstore or make a niche documentary about their hometown, but lacks startup funds. They launch a project on a crowdfunding platform, sharing their dream and plan. You see it, think it's meaningful and cool, and decide to support with some money. The return might be just a book, a movie ticket, or a thank-you. But why are you willing to support? Actually, when the bookstore opens or the documentary airs, don't you feel a sense of pride: "I had a hand in this." You feel you've participated in something meaningful, helped someone with a dream, and become part of the project's "co-creation." It satisfies the deep desire to "leave a mark" and "make an impact on the world." Moreover, this act of support connects you with other backers through a shared goal. In China, similar "co-creation" buds are appearing. The most common is with content creators (UP主): after posting a video, they interact with viewers in the comments, who suggest ideas for future content. If a direction gets strong support, it naturally becomes a candidate for the next topic. Also, some brands invite users to participate in product design and testing; some public welfare projects increasingly use crowdfunding to involve more people. Today's consumers are no longer satisfied with being passive buyers; they crave participation and co-creating value with brands and others. Platforms or brands that offer this sense of participation and co-creation will win hearts more easily.
Final Thoughts
So, you see:
- Fan communities that boost idols give people a sense of connection;
- The booming stand-up comedy gives people a sense of comfort;
- The growing number of vintage shops gives people a sense of uniqueness;
- Retro commercial districts give people a sense of stability;
- Projects supported together give people a sense of co-creation.
These new demand trends point to more spiritual and personalized levels. Their core is to combat the alienation and uncertainty brought by modern society, to fill a heart that might be a bit "lonely." What does this mean? For businesses, it may mean that future growth opportunities lie not just in providing more material products, but in thinking about how to meet spiritual needs, create opportunities for connection, satisfy emotional value, and help people "live out themselves." For individuals, it may mean re-examining our relationship with material goods. Does happiness truly come only from having more? Or from deeper experiences, more genuine connections, and more meaningful creation? This might not be a worse era, but rather one where we can live more clearly and abundantly. Are you ready?
