Euro Summer Isn’t Cool Anymore

A look at taste trend and the fall of cool

So I’ve been thinking about weddings. Not in a soft, Pinterest-core kind of way, but in the “why does every wedding look like an ad for a muted filter pack” kind of way. Because at this point, they do. They all do.

The beige drapery, the floral arches, the ribbon-tied napkins—like we’re all living inside a branded moodboard. Weddings have become content farms, down to the same 5 tiktoks being made prior. It’s not about love anymore. It’s about likes. It’s about being the main character in 4K, set to a slowed-down Frank Ocean song and posted as a carousel on Sunday at 6pm.

Jeff Bezos’ wedding was peak “go big or go home” energy—the final boss of the hyper-curated, money-is-no-object, billionaire spectacle wedding. It felt like the culmination of years of luxury Pinterest boards, AI moodboards, and Swarovski-encrusted everything. And now that we’ve seen the absolute ceiling of what a maximalist wedding can be, the cultural pendulum is already swinging back. We’re watching the downfall of the big wedding in real time—not because people suddenly hate celebration, but because nothing kills desire faster than overexposure.

Which is probably why the rise of the cool-girl courthouse wedding is having its moment. And listen—I’m not mad at it. It’s the logical reaction. You toss on a vintage Miu Miu mini, a sheer veil that cost $40 on Etsy, and you marry your long-term situationship on a Thursday morning. One blurry film photo. No caption. No context. Just vibes. It's curated, sure—but at least it feels like a choice.

But like all good things, it’s already dangerously close to being over. Because once something becomes aspirational, it becomes a template. And when there’s a template, people copy-paste. Until eventually, it all feels like a soft-filtered performance of authenticity. And that’s the same cycle we’re seeing with what I can only describe as Euro Summer cosplay.

You know the look.
The Pucci scarf-as-dress. The Hermès Kelly. The Oran Sandles. Hair slicked into a bun like you’re headed to a vintage yacht (but it’s actually a restaurant in Mykonos that sells $30 spritzes).

It was cute for a second. It gave rich mom in the '70s. It gave I'm-on-vacation-but-still-have-an-editorial-budget. But now? Now it feels like we’re all dressing like the same vaguely tanned influencer who posts from Positano every June. And when everyone is in on the same aesthetic… it stops being tasteful. It just becomes boneless.

And can we talk about how weird it is that everyone is now carrying a Hermès bag they definitely didn’t own last year? Like when did the Kelly become part of the summer starter pack? Which is fine! But it’s funny how even the most exclusive pieces become signals once they're styled by the masses.

There’s something about how fast everything is moving—how quickly we adopt, romanticize, over-style, and then discard trends—that makes it hard for anything to feel real. And when fashion stops feeling real, it stops feeling personal. It just becomes one big feed of people trying to out-curate each other.

I still love a perfect bride. I still romanticize a perfectly tanned Italian summer. But when every moment starts to feel like it’s being broadcast for someone else's approval, the magic kind of dies.

So here’s my unsolicited advice:
Have the wedding. Go to Positano. Wear the scarf top. But maybe do it because you actually want to—not because you saw a girl do it better on TikTok .

And for god’s sake, leave the Kelly at home.

Unless it’s vintage. Then we can talk.