Want a less commercial holiday? Gen Z tries ‘underconsumption core.’

Stephanie Noble hasn’t gone shopping in five months. For the social media star and self-described “shopping addict,” that’s a major milestone. It’s one she plans on extending through the holidays and into next year, from Black Friday through summer. “You won’t catch me slipping,” she said in a TikTok video shared with over 82,000 followers in October. “I’m sticking with it.”

With the holidays around the corner, Ms. Noble says that she’s more focused on spending time with her loved ones than on finding the perfect gift. What presents she and her family members do buy for one another, she says, will cost less than $50. She hopes that will inspire more creativity.

“I’m trying ... to focus more on the memories we create vs. the things we buy,” she writes to the Monitor. “It’s helping me slow down and be more present with my family.”

Ms. Noble isn’t the only one who, like Charlie Brown, is trying to make Christmas less commercial. Others are turning away from the traditional hustle and bustle of holiday shopping in favor of a quieter season that’s less driven by “stuff” and more focused on community. And it’s not just for the holidays. These frugal shoppers’ desire for simplicity is growing out of larger movements that seek to reduce consumption to protect the environment and nurture a less materialistic culture.

Recently, a wave of TikTok users has embraced a viral trend dubbed “underconsumption core.” In clips garnering millions of views and often set to “Don’t Know Why” by Norah Jones, users narrate how they squeeze every last drop out of their personal care products, sew up old clothes, and fill their homes with secondhand furniture.

Variations on a minimalist theme

Both historically and in modern times, many people lived “underconsumption” lifestyles long before Generation Zers and millennials made it chic by adding “core” after the word. (They called it being “thrifty.”) Other internet trends, such as last year’s “de-influencing,” have similarly encouraged social media users to buy less and reuse more.

Yet it’s ironic that TikTok would be the cradle for such a trend. The app is a major driver of online commerce. Americans spend $7 million a day on its built-in shopping section. Worldwide, TikTok generated $3.84 billion in consumer spending in 2023, according to a report by Capital One. Legions of influencers use the social media app to promote products as their full-time job.

In an age where influencers constantly push their followers to buy what’s en vogue, underconsumption core might feel like a panacea against an increasingly intrusive consumer culture.

“I actually think this new interest in minimalism is a huge reaction to social media,” says Daniele Mathras, a professor at Northeastern University’s business school. “We are constantly bombarded, all the time, with advertising. ... I think that a lot of consumers are having this almost very visceral reaction to what they’re seeing online, and they’re not wanting to be a part of it.”

Videos from those using the hashtags #underconsumption or #underconsumptioncore cite economic, environmental, philosophical, and even mental health concerns as reasons they’re resisting the urge to buy. Omar Fares, a lecturer at Lazaridis School of Business and Economics at Wilfrid Laurier University in Ontario, points out that high interest rates and inflation have recently crunched consumers’ wallets. Over the past two decades, he says, shoppers have also become more concerned about the environmental – and human – cost of their purchases.

The financial incentives may be a strong motivator for young people, who have been particularly buffeted by economic headwinds, Dr. Fares says.

Larger, generational shifts in spending habits may also be driving minimalism trends. A 2014 survey by EventBrite found that 78% of millennials would prefer to spend their money on a memorable experience or event, such as a concert, than on a physical object. Interest in the “experience economy” has only grown since the COVID-19 pandemic.

That resonates with Ms. Noble, who says her family plans on gifting experiences rather than material things for the holidays this year. “That way, we’re making memories,” she says.

Though those modern factors might be behind the emergence of underconsumption core, the roots of such trends reach further back in history. The Voluntary Simplicity Movement, for example, encouraged participants to only buy things that served a purpose. It became popular in the latter half of the 20th century, but existed as early as the Great Depression.

Dr. Mathras sees parallels between that movement and more recent ones. Voluntary Simplicity participants, for example, were concerned with how their purchases impacted the environment and the workers who produced goods.

“We have different words for it now,” she says, pointing to terms like “minimalism” in addition to underconsumption. “But I think they really are some of the same things.”

Spread by viral videos and packaged into easy-to-swallow challenges, ideas about the best ways to spend less find it easier to get exposure. That can also create a supportive community where people can share in each other’s triumphs.

That’s been a cornerstone for Ms. Noble, who since summer has limited herself to buying groceries and other perishables. So far, she says, she’s made one exception for a hobby. She’s gotten an outpouring of support from her followers since she started publicly posting about her no-shopping journey. “I was shocked at how many people could relate and how many people were cheering me on,” she says in an interview. “We’re really all in this together.”

“Kids don’t care. They’re not thinking, ‘Oh, it wasn’t new.’”

In some ways, TikTok is the new kid on the block. Versions of “underconsumption” have long been popular in other corners of the internet – though they might not go by that name.

Liesl Clark calls it “buy nothing.” That’s the name of the online group she co-founded with her friend in 2013. She found herself concerned about how much plastic washed ashore in her city of Bainbridge Island, Washington. Ms. Clark bills the Buy Nothing Project as “the world’s largest network of gifting communities.” United by more than 8,000 Facebook groups and an app, some 12 million participants exchange items for free.

The Buy Nothing Project aims to create a “local circular economy where you don’t have to go out and buy new,” Ms. Clark says. The power of that becomes especially clear during the holidays.

Ms. Clark says that the number of participants nearly doubles as people get into the holiday spirit and diligently search for gifts for their family. The platform can be especially effective for parents. That’s something she found out through personal experience.

“Kids don’t care. They’re not thinking, ‘Oh, it wasn’t new,’” she says. Over time, she adds, “We were able to acquire incredibly wonderful and meaningful gifts for our kids, all the way through their younger years.”

Potlucks are another holiday feature of Buy Nothing groups that have proven popular. Awash in leftover turkey and stuffing, participants often gather to exchange food in the days following Thanksgiving. “Usually the day after Thanksgiving is huge,” Ms. Clark says. “People just go home with a lot of different dishes.”

Ms. Noble says that for her, consuming less is partially about finding balance – and not just in her spending habits. Shopping less has been a boon for her mental health. She’s gotten time back. The pace of her life has slowed. She’s journaling more often, and making a point to check in on her own emotional needs.

“I want to be more mindful about the way I participate in capitalism and the way that I consume for the environment and things like that,” she says. “But I just feel so much less anxious, and that alone is the biggest win ever.”