Back in March, I went to Charvet—a storied Parisian shop best known for its shirting and slippers—with the mission of getting a made-to-measure nightshirt. My sales associate and I spent well over an hour poring over bolts of fabric, discussing buttons, and debating which monogram was just right. After we were both quite satisfied with the order (I cannot in good faith make a purchase at Charvet unless I have my sales associate’s blessing, least of all because an MTM shirt starts around €600), I went down to the main floor to check out, where I noticed a fellow Gen Z-er asking his sales associate about a custom shirt.

Days later, I joined a few editors at the Chanel store on Rue Royale to try on shoes from Matthieu Blazy’s debut collection. It was at the tail end of Paris Fashion Week, and Chanel-o-Mania was in full force. Judging by Instagram and TikTok, it felt like everyone was either talking about the shoes or documenting their own hero’s journey of visiting every Chanel store in Paris in search of the right pair in the right size. And though I pride myself on not succumbing to trends, I almost purchased a pair of chocolate flats with a Rudolph-red cap toe—even though they were half a size too small.

Though I left Paris empty-handed, the shoes stayed on my mind. Were they something I actually wanted, I wondered, or was it my social media algorithm speaking?

For the past few years, much has been said about the algorithm’s influence on shopping habits, and by extension, its role in spawning the microtrends that seem to surface every few weeks (remember Tomato Girl Summer?). Algorithmic dressing is, in the simplest terms, a reflection of the content a person consumes. Much of Gen Z grew up with screens in their pockets, so it’s no surprise that so much content is now devoted to helping people find their personal style—even if that pursuit often results in yet another iteration of the same look.

So, where does Gen Z go to find its own sense of individuality when it comes to getting dressed? While a generational interest in thrifting and vintage has certainly helped Gen Z-ers find their personal style outside of the algorithm, a small sliver of us are also shopping made-to-measure.

In many ways, Gen Z’s approach to made-to-measure mirrors their broader shopping habits. A survey conducted by Vogue Business in partnership with Archrival, “Gen Z Broke the Marketing Funnel,” highlights the younger generation’s preference for brands with a strong sense of community and loyalty to their customers. But beyond those notions, as the survey details, “Gen Zs want the nitty-gritty product details now—the price, the fit, the materials, the mechanics.” Designers have noticed that shoppers want this kind of detail. “They are more opinionated about some of the details, which I think is amazing, because those are details that are embedded in tailoring,” notes Olivia Villanti, founder of Chava Studio, whose custom shirting runs around $570. “A lot of people could argue [tailoring] is this dying art form, but I definitely see my younger clients have an eye for it.”

There is also a natural sense of intimacy and community that blossoms from working so closely with the product and team. “Made-to-measure can be purely personal. Not only is this person tailoring a design or a look to you—they’re also involved in your life,” says Isiah Magsino, who commissioned a suit from Huntsman on the famed Saville Row a few years ago. “You’re going out to dinner with them, you’re having conversations with them.”

This form of intimacy creates a community that does not solely exist online, but in person. “We feel that our generation and younger are obsessed with errands and they’re obsessed with community,” Bjorn Eva Park, 33, who runs the mending and alteration shop Eva Joan with Emma Villeneuve, explained. “They’re coming in, and they’re so excited to talk about their garment.” This appreciation for delayed gratification, which fosters a new and hopefully long-lasting connection, challenges the caricature that Gen Z lacks certain social skills and grew up with everything available at the press of a button.

This longing for a more tangible experience reflects the broader nostalgia that has shaped Gen Z’s coming of age—nostalgia for a past that many did not experience firsthand, but instead encountered through images. Designer Carter Altman, who introduced MTM in November, notes that when his Gen Z clients move through the made-to-measure process, they often bring in references as a starting point: “I think nostalgia is certainly informative in terms of the imagery people are looking at, but I think a lot of it—in my experience—comes down to people being unable to articulate what it is that they like about those references.” This stands in stark contrast to Altman’s older clients, who have mostly lived in a world where wearing a suit was part of their day-to-day uniform, and whose purchases are less nostalgia-induced.

This nostalgic pull reflects the value that prior generations place on garment-making traditions, and the idea that by participating in this process, one engages with something foundational. Audrey Kalman, 26, writer of the Substack Media Roundup, grew up with a great-grandmother who would make her clothes. So when she started commissioning custom denim from Paytons Myer, who reworks denim, it was both a call back to her childhood and a representation of who she was as an individual. “It’s important to feel like you’re doing something new,” Kalman says. “I’m someone who was born in 2000 [who] can still do original things. There is actually some handiwork going into our lives still, it’s not all behind a screen.”