At What Point Does Fashion Become 'Fast'?

Odd Muse, Peachy Den, and the cult of “almost luxury” in the age of rapid trends.

They call it quiet luxury, but lately the noise has been deafening. The latest target is Odd Muse, a TikTok-born brand marketing itself as the answer to fast fashion fatigue, now caught in the crosshairs of an identity crisis; not because of a collapse, but because the more it grows, the more it starts to resemble what it was meant to replace.

Founded by Aimee Smale, Odd Muse trades on an aesthetic of minimalist elegance, with blazers that cinch the waist, midi dresses cut from organic cotton, and social content peppered with phrases like “investment piece” and “timeless design.” It’s all very #girlboss2021 in a 2025 outfit, but as the brand racks up millions of views, a question emerges: if it looks like fast fashion, scales like fast fashion, and ships like fast fashion, can a £125 blazer still claim to be a symbol of restraint?

The TikTok darling of the “affordable luxury” crowd is learning that nice tailoring doesn’t cancel out polyester, and this tension snapped into focus this week when creator @plzdontbuythat went viral dissecting Odd Muse’s fabric sourcing and price point. Her post highlighted a significant disconnect. Odd Muse labels itself slow fashion, but its production practices suggest otherwise.

@plzdontbuythat’s viral TikTok breaking down Odd Muse’s supply chain transparency claims. Credit: TikTok/@plzdontbuythat

The brand’s use of a 'Grade A' BSCI-certified factory sounds impressive, but the Business Social Compliance Initiative (BSCI) is merely a baseline framework rather than a gold standard. BSCI audits factors like fair wages and working conditions but lacks enforcement, and a high rating doesn’t guarantee ethical perfection. It simply means a brand has met the minimum required to retain its certification.

And that’s precisely the issue. True transparency goes beyond listing acronyms; it also requires explaining their implications. Posting factory updates isn’t enough if the brand relies on consumers not scrutinising too closely. The video resonated not only with Odd Muse’s followers but also with anyone questioning why an ostensibly premium blazer can feel indistinguishable from Zara with better branding.

“Odd Muse’s signature blazer (left) alongside a Zara alternative (right). Distinction or déjà vu? Credit: Odd Muse/Zara official sites”

Peachy Den recently found itself in a similar position. Known for their Mimi cargos and velvet jumpsuits, the brand established its reputation on nostalgia and community engagement. However, another viral TikTok questioned why a polyester skirt cost over £80, prompting another creator to defend the pricing by highlighting the economic realities faced by small brands paying more for ethical production and higher-quality materials. Both viewpoints resonated, undermining the notion that price always equates directly to quality or ethical standards.

So, what exactly differentiates fast fashion, mid-range, and luxury? Traditionally, distinctions were drawn by material quality, craftsmanship, and scarcity. 'Fast fashion' churns out synthetics rapidly whereas 'luxury' invests in heritage ateliers, premium natural fibres, and exclusivity. 'Mid-range' increasingly straddles both worlds, filling in gaps though primarily through branding.

There’s no regulatory body or official standard that defines whether a brand can label itself luxury. Similarly, no legal definitions exist for terms like “slow fashion,” nor watchdog groups to validate whether a £140 blazer genuinely warrants descriptors such as “investment piece.” Brands can mass-produce using synthetic blends and still market themselves as premium, as long as their narrative resonates.

Luxury brands aren’t immune either. Many incorporate polyester linings or outsource production to the same factories utilised by fast fashion giants. Their shield, however, is legacy. Consumers rarely question a £1,200 Chanel jacket backed by decades of brand mythology and the symbolic weight of old-money discretion. Yet heritage isn’t synonymous with ethics, and an expensive price tag doesn’t inherently ensure quality.

Mid-range brands navigate a more ambiguous space, priced too high for casual purchases yet insufficiently luxurious to justify couture status. They cater to customers seeking improvement rather than perfection; and Peachy Den and Odd Muse both emphasise sustainability through recycled or deadstock materials, detailed cost breakdowns, and community-focused initiatives. Nevertheless, scrutiny intensifies when products closely mirror fast fashion in aesthetics or durability. So, when a £145 blazer pills after two wears, it’s not merely the garment that frays, but it’s the perception of buying something truly distinct.

Molly-Mae Hague’s Maebe highlighted how fragile that perception can be. Marketed as premium basics, the brand quickly unravelled when customers discovered cheaper synthetic substitutes had been secretly used in their blazers. TikTok swiftly turned against the brand, and a high-profile launch collapsed under the weight of unfulfilled promises and compromised integrity.

Mid-range brands operate under relentless scrutiny. Too expensive for silent failures, too recent to lean on established reputations, and too visible to mask errors. Odd Muse has largely navigated these pitfalls by actively listening: offering repairs, disclosing audits, and swiftly adjusting product strategies. Peachy Den invests deeply in community connections, from festival appearances to creatively repurposing damaged stock. Yet, TikTok’s critical gaze remains indifferent to good intentions but demands tangible quality.

The broader reality is that price no longer reliably indicates true value, and savvy marketing alone won’t suffice. In an era where Gen Z rigorously examines supply chains before purchasing, brands must authentically merge aspirational aesthetics with material authenticity. Polyester itself isn’t problematic, but becomes a liability when cloaked in luxury terminology. The traditional fashion codes of scarcity, craftsmanship, and narrative retain influence but cannot stand alone. Today’s consumers demand fewer, higher-quality items backed by verifiable claims.

Odd Muse continues to succeed by balancing transparency with style. Maebe failed spectacularly. Peachy Den occupies an uneasy middle ground, navigating a competitive market increasingly under intense scrutiny.

If the next chapter of fashion prioritises trust, TikTok isn’t destroying brands. It’s performing quality control.