In the annals of cultural history 2008 will probably mark the dissolution of a particular type of counterculture. Academics dub this phenomenon the ‘domestication of alternative forms’, and in the world of fashion it is most evident in the recent popularisation of op-shopping.

I still recall my sixteenth year, scouring the then untapped displays of Savers. At the time people couldn’t comprehend why anyone would purchase previously-worn clothing, let alone outdated stuff considered ‘unfashionable’. But I never did like adhering to the mainstream. Instead choosing to drape myself in peculiar and unconventional garments, including bell-bottoms à la the seventies, epilepsy-causing patterned tops, waistcoats, vests, cardigans…

Complacently I carried on rummaging through bargain bins and recycle racks, my taste evolving with my desire to be inimitable. Older items began to bore me and I became enticed by others – moving to plaid shirts, silken scarves, skinny jeans and bowties. Still, the contents of my wardrobe remained significantly abhorrent to anyone donning conventional clothing. Fashionable (‘normal’) male attire at that point was predominantly loose and baggy. Thus I often caused an uproar if seen strutting down Swanston Street (or worse, Hoppers Crossing station) clad in tight, black denim pants and a paisley scarf. But I must confess I enjoyed people's derision, revelling in being a lunatic amidst herds of insipid sheep.

Over time the number of customers frequenting my favourite op-shops burgeoned. Even the more obscure ones were being infiltrated by new patrons! This, however, should not be a catastrophe, as it achieves the objective of most op-shops – to raise funds for charity. What infuriated me was the increased difficulty of unearthing impressive clothing. In fact, I hardly found anything worthwhile anymore. Second-hand wear had been integrated into orthodoxy, leaving counterculture bereft of fashion options.

It may seem presumptuous to believe that personal experience confers any compelling diagnosis of society at large. But you must understand: to a devoted op-shop regular wishing to subvert the caprices of Pop Culture, incidents like this are highly threatening. Nowadays, my op-shop visits are inescapably accompanied by competitors desperate to emulate ‘the look’ of 2008. Skinny jeans have found a new home, especially with the youth, as have cardigans (and anything ‘geeky’, really). War-nostalgic subdued colours, Modish monochrome, and pointy shoes are also, to my disappointment, suddenly all the rage. These were present in my closet at least two years ago but, sadly, these days I look more like a banal clone than an ultra-chic fashionista. Worse yet is that op-shops have capitalized on this lucrative ‘trend’, boosting their prices to match increased patronage. Surely I have not merely embellished the significance of these ominous occurrences.

I yearn to restore the days when my clothing exuded individuality. Instead I am forced to cautiously walk the metropolitan streets, hoping to find no one else within a two-kilometre radius to have dressed in a similar ensemble. With the eclectic apparel of op-shops cunningly assimilated into conventional taste it has become extremely daunting to portray a unique style. I poignantly find myself victimised by the crusades of mainstream domination.

Where can a fashion dissenter seek refuge as the last vestiges of rebellion are quelled?