Perhaps no trend defines Indonesian youth's economic pragmatism and stylistic innovation better than second-hand fashion, locally known as barongsai (a playful nod to the chaotic mix of imported goods) or simply vintage.
Driven by a "anti-fast fashion" sentiment (and a post-pandemic wallet pinch), the Pasar Senen (flea markets) have become catwalks. Young people are hunting for 90s Japanese Tour jackets, old American college sweaters, and quirky button-downs. This is not just cheap shopping; it is a form of rebellion against the sterile uniformity of mall brands like Uniqlo or Zara.
A unique sub-trend here is the "K-pop meets Bali" aesthetic: layering oversized thrifted blazers with traditional batik shirts and chunky sports sneakers. This trend has birthed a robust community of "thrift haul" YouTubers who teach viewers how to bleach, cut, and reconstruct old clothing into high-fashion statements. They are "keyboard warriors" who actually log off
Historically, Indonesian youth were apathetic toward formal politics. That has changed, but not through political parties. Youth activism has been "platformized."
The "Reformasi" spirit lives on in TikTok comments and Change.org petitions. The massive student protests against the Omnibus Law (Job Creation Law) in 2020 were organized not by student councils, but via Instagram Stories and Discord servers. Today's youth are issue-based, not ideology-based. They care about: old American college sweaters
They are "keyboard warriors" who actually log off and show up to demonstrations, wearing streetwear and holding smart phones—a blend of digital rage and physical presence.
Youth mix English, Indonesian, and regional slang with internet shorthand: not ideology-based. They care about:
While Hollywood blockbusters struggle, Indonesian youth are propelling a massive boom in local horror. Films like KKN di Desa Penari (based on a viral Twitter thread) and Pengabdi Setan have broken box office records.
This trend reflects a deep yearning for local roots. Having grown up with globalized content (Netflix, K-Dramas, Marvel), young Indonesians are turning to Jawa mistis (mysticism) and Sundanese folklore to find something "authentically them."
This extends to gaming. Indie games like DreadOut (where a high school girl fights ghosts with a smartphone camera) have cult followings. Horror has become the lingua franca for discussing real-world anxieties: family trauma, economic precarity, and the crushing weight of communal expectations (gengsi or saving face).
