On Sunday, retailer Forever 21 filed for bankruptcy. While the fate of its approximately 350 brick-and-mortar stores is still unclear—they will most likely shutter, but could live on in some kind of digital space, competing with Shein, whose existence is surely one reason for the brand’s demise—it seems safe to say that the days of Forever 21 being a staple of every trip to the mall are behind us. This brought on some real nostalgia, so we gathered some stories about staffers’ favorite purchases and memories. RIP, Forever 21.
On my 13th birthday, after she treated us to a fine-dining feast at Wendy’s, my mom loaded up her minivan with a gaggle of preteen girls and took us to Forever 21 at Dolphin Mall in Miami. On the way there, we belted out the defining hit of the 2010s, “Just the Way You Are,” by Bruno Mars, and thought about what treasures we might find. Being 21 seemed so glamorous to me then, and we felt so grown up officially entering teenhood by shopping at a place obviously meant for grown-ups (duh!). I can’t remember what I bought that day, but we spent hours circling the racks and thinking about which bodycon dress would finally get us an inch closer to being adults. —Paola de Varona, senior editor
Bright yellow vintage-looking Mary Janes. They cost maybe 28 Canadian dollars from the Forever 21 in Toronto at Yonge and Dundas, where all the coolest girls stole their statement necklaces. I wore those shoes into the absolute ground: school, walking around Parkdale, club, another club, bus, another club, no sleep. Remember when we were all doing business casual at 3 a.m.? God, I was once so young. —Scaachi Koul, senior writer
I remember going to a Forever 21 for the first time at the mall in high school. I bought two shirts (a light pink baby tee and a brown one; I remember them being $5 each), declared it my favorite store, and then possibly never bought anything there again? Two stories of every item of clothing imaginable is actually very hard to navigate, and, in practice, my allegiance remained with H&M. —Shannon Palus, features editor
I bought my first blazer at Forever 21 when I was in high school. Why did a high schooler need to own a blazer? I couldn’t tell you. —Jenny G. Zhang, senior editor
For better or worse (worse), Forever 21 was foundational in helping me and my friends figure out what our respective styles were. When the clothes and accessories are that cheap, you can experiment endlessly—and we did. I spent many afternoons in college and beyond treating Forever 21 like church. It was a space where my girlfriends and I found community, a shared sense of purpose, a quest for something larger, and retail therapy that was within our limited means. I distinctly remember the feeling of growing out of it and knowing it was time to leave it behind, which felt like an important adult milestone. It was a chaotic sacred space where we found a piece of ourselves. I still have a $12 cardigan I bought there over 10 years ago. —Caitlin Schneider, managing editor, audience development
When I went off to college in New England, my mother made sure I went with a good coat—she purchased me a long L.L. Bean winter coat that I still wear today. But as soon as I actually arrived at college, I realized my deep need for something else—a fracket (aka frat jacket). I could wear a fracket out at night, throw it in the pile of other frackets, hopefully find it at the end of the night—but not have to suffer the shame of telling my mother that my pricey down jacket had been stolen or soaked with Keystone Light. Enter: Forever 21. My fracket was bright red with a (faux) fur-lined hood—so easy to find in the pile. I loved it. I think it was $20. —Susan Matthews, executive editor
Going to high school in downtown D.C., I had access to almost the whole city after classes got out. And yet, the place I loved to go the most was the Metro Center Forever 21. It was just a few stops away from my school—and near my grandma’s apartment so I could stop by for a visit—and had a whopping four floors of all sorts of clothes. My favorite place, however, was the clearance section. Even though everything at the store was relatively cheap, I was determined to get a bargain. I can’t even tell you a single item I bought then because there was a point in time where almost everything I wore came from there. Jean skirts, a black-and-gold dress for my winter formal, extremely sheer leggings, to name a few. Sadly, it closed down a few years ago, replaced with an “Immersive Office Experience.” —Hannah Docter-Loeb, homepage editor
I was not exactly Forever 21’s target customer. I was 12 months postpartum and in that awkward extended phase where your maternity clothes no longer fit, your pre-pregnancy clothes don’t fit either, and you really have no idea what body you’re going to be in next week or month. The dust was still settling from the physical, emotional, psychic, and financial shock of entering motherhood for the first time. As I stepped onto the escalator of the Forever 21 in Union Square Manhattan on one of those truly sweaty summer afternoons, I wondered if I could ever be one of “those” women again, swanning around picking out outfits for picnics, the office, or workouts. I could kinda sorta imagine myself going out for dinner occasionally, or strolling somewhere for some reason dressed like someone who had integrated their identity with their clothes, but I still couldn’t imagine “investing” in said clothes. My wardrobe had largely been chosen for its ability to repel stains, unhook for boob access, allow for rapid unpredictable weight gain and loss, and unexpected fluid gain and loss of various types. Perhaps not the usual customer profile—but Forever 21 was the perfect destination for me with its cheap and cheerful offerings.
On that sunny June afternoon in a flagship cost-cutting fast-fashion palace of thumping club hits and milling teenagers, I picked out a pair of high-waisted denim shorts with red seams and a jaunty red-and-blue woven belt. The jean shorts were a little too tight but not so much as to be uncomfortable; more reassuringly “doable,” I’d say. I wore them the following week for a friend’s birthday scavenger hunt through the West Village, pushing my 1-year-old daughter at a clip as we raced for clues. There are photos; I’m looking at them now. The jean shorts are a deep indigo and I’ve paired them with a red tank top and I look happy and somewhat, if not entirely, integrated: shorts, stroller, and a cigar. The belt disintegrated soon after purchase. I still have the shorts, faded and baggier. My daughter is 14. —Sara Burningham, Amicus producer
