Nevertheless, bankruptcy is an acknowledgment that Forever 21’s past — and my past, to an extent — is not retail’s future. In the time since I first began shopping at Forever 21, the company has stubbornly maintained its juvenile approach to everything it does, including the carelessness and improper efficiencies that come along with it. While other fast-fashion brands understood that transparency, sustainability, and good ethics are paramount to holding onto an adulting consumer base (and attracting the arguably more moralistic Gen Z), Forever 21 has not committed to any such thing. Their sustainability initiative are paltry and inconsequential. There is no publicly accessible information about its factories and their working conditions. The brand continues to engage in blatant knockoffs of both big and small designers, and has been the target of some prominent lawsuits (recently, Ariana Grande sued Forever 21 for using her likeness to sell clothing). Unlike the celebrity-CEOs of buzzy brands today, Forever 21 owners do not give interviews, are not on social media, and — aside from the oft-told origin story of its Korean founders who found fortune in Los Angeles through faith, capitalism, and an immigrant work ethic — do not court press.