Can You Say Patagonia
When I visited Halifax last summer, my friend Sam made me go into this store downtown. Maybe I’d been living under a rock, but I had never been in a Patagonia. I didn’t even know how to pronounce it, probably because I’m more of a leather jacket, ironic t-shirt kind of girl, and wouldn’t be caught dead on a hiking trail. Sam and I browsed the vomit green puffer jackets and combed through the zip-up fleeces. I checked out a price tag, carefully removed my hand from the rack, and demanded to know why we were in a store that sells 239-dollar vests when she wouldn’t let me spend 10 dollars on an Uber. Then I see the guy folding t-shirts: messy hair, baggy Levis, knit sweater, Carhartt beanie. And I get it - he’s gorgeous and looks like he actually cares about things. If every Patagonia had boys like that, I never wanted to leave.
The granola aesthetic has evolved and grown rapidly over the past year. I remember back in 2020 when the aesthetic first started to gain traction; it was essentially just flannels, ripped jeans, Blundstones and Birkenstocks. As new aesthetics took over, like the clean girl or 2020 alt, granola was lost in the cycle. However, it’s made a glorious comeback, and even has its subsections now, like salty granola (Mamma Mia overalls), cottage granola (where the oversized crewneck is crucial), or crunchy granola (spending 3 hours in Value Village searching for the perfect grandpa sweater).
The subsections all embody the chill, eco-hippy spirit of the aesthetic. I love my granolas- they’re just the most down-to-earth people. They just have an immense gratitude for life, and appreciate our world as it is. But the issue with the aesthetic gaining popularity so quickly is that posers have emerged that mess with the positive vibes. This is somewhat problematic - if the aesthetics built on authenticity become fake, what’s left on social media that is authentic? It’s annoying to see people who create bad energy try and come across as these peace-loving, environment-saving hippies.
In high school, I knew this girl who was obsessed with designer brands. No judgment, I love the Prada shoulder bag as much as the next person- but this girl also happened to be a colossal jerk who would bash people for wearing Converse instead of Jordan 1s. So when she comes up on my Instagram now, posing in front of a waterfall in her Patagonia fleece, with the caption “livin’ the simple life :p”, I laugh. I’d bet all my money that she went to that waterfall with the express purpose of a photo shoot, then turned around and drove her Lexus right to a Starbucks without even glancing at the nature.
Regardless of the judgment I passed on that girl from high school, I think the granola aesthetic runs deeper than clothes and hikes. Anyone can buy cargo pants and walk in a forest. Even I end up channelling the cottage granola aesthetic when I’m at the cottage, whether I want to or not. But if you look closer, there are signs that a trained eye can use to separate the phonies from the real deals. A lot of people ski that aren’t granola, but a casual ski selfie in a photo dump is a tell. After all, only so many people would choose to launch themself into snowbanks and like it (can you tell I’m not one of them?). Another sign is a tent. Tents are expensive, so if someone has one, then you can assume they genuinely enjoy the outdoors (because who would tolerate pesky mosquitoes otherwise?). And having their own tent means their parents didn’t drag them on a camping trip for family bonding time, like my mom did. Other notable signs include rock climbing, the obsession with Banff, and the overall happy disposition.
But the most telling signs are the playlists and concert lineups. That is the easiest way I discern a person’s vibe. Do they post their selfies with the song “Alco” by Half Moon Run? Do they know who Neil Young is and have a playlist called “Dad’s Music”? Or do they only know Billy Joel songs from TikTok and go to concerts just to post about how they went? Everyone is entitled to their music tastes. But the core of the granola aesthetic is appreciation, and I think that a lot of mainstream music lacks authentic, emotional expression. Appreciating music requires a love for the craft and the artistry - I think it’s quite easy to tell what musicians dedicate themselves totally to their music, spending years crafting albums and constantly throwing their hearts in the gutter to be stomped on. That’s not to say that granola people don’t appreciate a catchy radio hit, but you’ll never hear them say their favourite artist is Tate Mcrae or DaBaby. I think it just comes back to the authenticity of granolas, simply liking what they connect to instead of what’s popular. It’s difficult to hide your real vibe in your listening history - my opinion is that your music is you. Music is also part of what makes granola people seem so cool. When a granola person tells you “Oh, good song choice”, you feel validated. Or when you’re driving with them with the windows down, and they somehow just know the right song to ease your mind that also goes with the golden hour. When I’m hanging out with granola people, their appreciation of the world rubs off on me. And that’s no small feat since I’m unbelievably pessimistic.
We should all internalize the granola attitude - feeling grateful for the simple things and being appreciative of the planet. Focusing less on their aesthetic and more on their laissez-faire attitude would probably make some of us better people… but I refuse to hike, I’m sorry. I can appreciate life and the beauty of nature, but I can’t appreciate blisters.
