'Dark academia' is Gen Z's favourite look – but can a grown-up wear the collegiate trend?

For a while there, I was worried that teens had abandoned the subculture.

Over the last decade, as fast fashion soared and social media filtered us all into poreless oblivion, it looked as though alternative style might be dying out. Where were the skater kids? The goths, the nerds, the weirdos? Wither the squads of ‘townies’ and ‘grungers’ that once divided my school down the middle?

Every adolescent I saw was immaculately contoured and exhaustingly glam. None of them were, for example, weeping eyeliner into their side fringe against a rainy bus window while pretending to read Dostoyevsky.

But I needn’t have worried; the kids are alright. Suddenly there are enough new style niches to delight and befuddle this ageing millennial, from rainbow-bright ‘e-girls’ and pastel-hued ‘mermaidcore’ to tree-hugging ‘VSCO girls’ and my personal favourite: the preppy/witchy/swotty mash-up, Dark Academia. With 1.2 million Instagram posts and 1.5 billion views on TikTok, geek chic has evolved – and it’s more powerful than ever.

Though the term has been around for a few years now, the dark academia aesthetic – and its counterpoint, 'light academia', which as far as I can tell is the same but in beige – exploded in popularity during the pandemic, while schools and universities were closed. Because there’s nothing like lockdown to make you nostalgic for the smell of carpet tiles and canteen baked potatoes.

But this isn’t style via your local comprehensive. It’s a romanticised, nostalgic spin on scholastic chic that takes in the dreaming spires of Oxford, the leaf-strewn lawns of Yale, the shadowy melodrama of Donna Tartt’s The Secret History and the goody two-shoes glamour of Gossip Girl’s Blair Waldorf.

There’s classical music, Greek myth and gothic architecture. There are shades of beatnik, touches of Victoriana, a little Dead Poets Society and a lot of nineties-does-seventies-does-thirties-does-Brontë-heroine-dying-of-a-chill. Think: Rory Gilmore goes to a seance at Cold Comfort Farm, and you’re halfway there.

“Essentially a knowledgeable, vintage emo,” translates Urban Dictionary, if that helps at all. Typical dark academia activities include sketching, pressing flowers, taking polaroids, reading horror novels at sunset, learning dead languages, writing poetry in leather-bound journals, and yearning.

“It sounds silly but there’s a whole trend at the moment for the preppy, ‘private school aesthetic’,” explains Connie, 16, from Hertfordshire, who has agreed to be my youth interpreter.

“It’s romanticising that lifestyle, romanticising reading and learning, wearing Oxbridge sort-of attire… It’s what the girls are all dressing like in my sixth form. The oversized blazers and the sweater vests, the tote bag from a bookshop or something. Berets, collared blouses poking out of jumpers, black opaque tights with a miniskirt. And a coffee.”

Caffeine is a key accessory for dark academics, needed to fuel all those late-night cram sessions and possible dionysian rituals. There’s even ‘coffeecore’ sub-sub-culture (keep up), where TikTokkers style themselves in creamy shades of brown to match their latte art. Perhaps it’s an inevitable reaction to wellness, fitspo and athleisure’s relentless green-juice energy. Sportswear is nowhere to be seen in the world of dark academia, with chunky platforms, Doc Martens and prim Mary-Janes all kicking sneakers to the curb.

What’s more, the trend has actually made it cool to stay up late and study. “If I have to do revision, I romanticise it,” says Connie. “Get a coffee, make my pens neat. All that stuff.”

While it might come approved by parents and Ofsted, dark/light academia does have its drawbacks. Heavily Eurocentric in its reference points, the aesthetic has been criticised for lacking diversity – and it’s hard not to feel wary of a fashion trend that fetishises elite education, however tongue-in-cheek it might be.

But the upside of all this rose-tinted nostalgia is that it’s sustainable. The look is easy to buy secondhand, and the odd moth hole is practically a badge of honour. “Thrifting has become so big among my age group,” confirms Connie. “If it says ‘vintage crew-neck jumper’ it makes it so appealing to people my age. It’s all about how you word it.”

Searching ‘academia’ on resale app Depop throws up more than 8,000 results, including everything from Fair Isle cardigans, cricket jumpers and corduroy blazers to pre-assembled ‘collage packs’ featuring yellowed book pages, postcards and Victorian botanical paintings to craftily adorn your bedroom wall. As someone who rocked up to halls of residence circa 2006 with a vintage hatbox and a six-pack of Babycham under my arm, I can hardly laugh.

In fact, as a recovered mid-aughts indie kid, I recognise the DNA. There’s something joyful about an identity patchworked together from culture that spans decades, even centuries, rather than a look dictated wholesale by the high street. Not to mention that unlike so many other trends of the moment, dark academia looks a) comfortable and b) warm. It’s less extreme than cottagecore, messier than minimalism, and less likely to result in flesh wounds than Y2k’s hipster jeans and corset tops.

But how does one pull off the look when your last exam was *cough* years ago? Are we even allowed? Can the over-thirties wear a mini kilt without looking like we've escaped from a bad Butlins disco?

Connie is sweetly encouraging. “You definitely can,” she says. “Blazers, tights and boots are something I would have associated with my mum and my friends’ mums. If anything, you almost wouldn’t expect a 16-year-old to be wearing it.”

Heartened, I realise I have most of the key components in my wardrobe already.

A checked wool miniskirt with a black cashmere rollneck, bottle green leather blazer, Chelsea boots and beret makes me feel pleasingly like Ali McGraw in Love Story, or a background extra in The French Dispatch. A pair of charity shop tartan trousers fit the bill perfectly, and so does a cable-knit vintage waistcoat that has always walked a fine line between ‘Bloomsbury Set’ and ‘Chandler Bing’. Sweater vests, it turns out, are great for getting more wear out of those slightly-too-tight blouses that gape across the boobs. Never stop learning.

As with all reference dressing, the secret is stopping just before it turns into cosplay. My favourite Hades tank top paired with my mini kilt looks twee, but layered over a long, floral dress, it’s pleasingly collegiate. I swerve the knee-high socks (never again, unless they’re compression stockings) and choose sheer 15 deniers over thick black opaques, for a look that’s a little more Alexa Chung and a little less ‘Alexa, please finish my history coursework.’ My coffee might be decaf, but I’m sold.

In conclusion, I hope this essay demonstrates that the academic aesthetic has no age limit or grade minimum. In fact, if it comes to it, dressing like a learned scholar could be the perfect way to stay motivated through another bleak winter of homeworking.

Unless I’ve killed the whole subculture dead by writing this article. In which case, kids, I can only apologise.

What is your opinion on the 'dark academia' trend? Tell us in the comments section below