Why ‘Nice’ Clothes Feel Cheaper During Inflation

Cover Image via WWD.

Even as groceries and rent climbed, many shoppers noticed something odd on the racks: the “nice” stuff didn’t feel as expensive as it did last year. Part of that is psychology, but a lot of it is math.

Retailers pulled promotional events forward—“Black Friday in July” became normal— while oversupply kept inventory heavy and markdowns frequent. Ultra-fast fashion also squeezed price expectations from below, pushing mainstream brands to meet the market with more value messaging. When you combine those forces with basic cost-per-wear thinking, durable, better-made pieces can feel like the smarter buy even in an inflation year (UTIA, 2024). The first trap is the sticker price. Fast fashion trains us to compare items horizontally (“$29 top vs. $89 top”) rather than vertically over time (“How many wears will I realistically get?”).

Elizabeth Cline’s critique remains relevant: cheap apparel relies on overproduction and churn—clothes designed to be bought often and replaced quickly—which disguises the true cost with a low tag (Cline, 2012). If a $65 trend piece gets 8–12 wears before seams or silhouettes go, its cost-per-wear can exceed a $180 staple that holds up for several seasons. That is the paradox of an inflationary year: the relative value of quality improves when you actually intend to rewear and repair.

Promotions narrowed the gap, too. In response to cautious consumers, retailers leaned into earlier, heavier discounting. Back-to-school campaigns arrived in midsummer, outlet and off-price channels thrived, and students chased stackable promos that clipped premium tags to mid-tier prices. That promotional cadence doesn’t magically make production cheaper, but it changes the checkout moment— the only moment most people ever see. The result is a perception shift: a blazer that was once “someday” territory suddenly lands within reach, especially if the quality means you won’t be back in two months to replace it.

The supply side matters, too. Apparel has been awash in products. Near-shoring to keep Europe stocked, mass basics programs, and rapid-response design cycles all feed abundant mid-tier supply. In that environment, brands differentiate less on sticker price and more on perceived value—fabric weight, stitching, fit consistency, and longevity—precisely the dimensions where “nice” can win. If the racks are full, the question for a student buyer becomes: “What will last through the semester and internships?” not “What is the lowest tag?”

There is also a hidden-cost story that makes “cheap” feel less like a deal. The Roosevelt Institute argues that low prices in fast fashion are subsidized by costs shifted onto workers and the environment—costs that don’t show up at the register (Roosevelt Institute, 2024). When you account for those externalities, quality isn’t a luxury; it’s a different price bundle. Buying fewer, better garments— and wearing them longer—aligns your budget with outcomes you actually care about: durability, fit, reduced waste, and fewer emergency replacements (Cline, 2012; Roosevelt Institute, 2024).

A practical way to see the math is cost-per-wear. The UTIA wardrobe-planning guide recommends defining needs, scheduling purchases, and building around versatile staples so each piece earns more outfits (UTIA, 2024). Translate that into numbers: a $220 pair of boots worn 120 times costs about $1.83 per wear, while a $65 novelty sneaker that taps out after a dozen outings costs $5.42 per wear. In a promo-heavy season, the upfront gap shrinks—and the wear-life gap widens—making the “nice” option feel cheaper in lived experience.

Importantly, “nice” doesn’t always mean pricier at the factory gate. Some U.S. manufacturers lowered prices in 2024–25 by cutting waste, tightening patterns, verticalizing supply, and saving energy—proof that efficiency can offset inflation without sacrificing quality. When brands eliminate scrap and excess logistics, they can price competitively with imports and still deliver heavier fabrics and stronger seams. Those improvements show up as fewer failures in your closet, not just a number on a hangtag.

None of this absolves consumers from choice, but it does place responsibility correctly. Individual virtue alone won’t fix a system optimized for low sticker prices; policy levers such as extended producer responsibility (EPR), stronger labor enforcement, and import standards make the price we see more honest (Roosevelt Institute, 2024). Until then, the student-friendly strategy is straightforward: buy fewer, better things; prioritize fit and construction; and leverage promos for pieces you’ll wear hard. Quality becomes the budget move when you measure time, not just tags.

So why do “nice” clothes feel cheaper in an inflationary year? Because the market pushed prices toward the middle at checkout, while the real economy of a closet - the hours you actually live in a garment - tilted the value equation toward durability.

Inflation reminded us that the cheapest way to dress might be buying the best—and buying it less (Cline, 2012; UTIA, 2024).

“In a promo-heavy year, the price delta narrows—but the quality delta yawns.”