If you're still wearing these 9 things in 2025, you're broadcasting your age louder than you realize

Fashion has always been a silent language, but lately it's become a megaphone. The things we wear—or refuse to stop wearing—have turned into unintentional age stamps, as revealing as rings in a tree trunk. It's not about being fashionable or unfashionable. It's about those unconscious choices that mark us as clearly as a timestamp on an old photograph.

The funny thing is, most of us have no idea we're doing it. We think we're just being practical, comfortable, or authentic. Meanwhile, everyone under 40 can spot our birth decade from across a parking lot. Here are the nine items that might be giving away more than you realize.

1. The transition lenses that darken in sunlight

Nothing announces "I prioritized function over form in 2008" quite like photochromic lenses. Yes, they're practical. Yes, they eliminate the need for prescription sunglasses. But they've become the sartorial equivalent of printing out MapQuest directions.

The real tell isn't the technology—it's that specific amber-gray they turn in partial sunlight, creating the permanent squint of someone caught between two worlds. Younger generations have decided that juggling two pairs of glasses is somehow less complicated than explaining why you look like you're wearing welding goggles at brunch. The tragedy is that you probably don't even notice they've changed color anymore.

2. White athletic sneakers with medical-grade cushioning

There's a particular breed of gleaming white sneaker that whispers "my podiatrist recommended these." They're usually New Balance 624s or ASICS Gel-Kayanos, maintained with religious devotion, with enough shock absorption to handle a small earthquake.

The irony? Chunky sneakers are actually trendy right now. But there's a universe between the deliberately ugly Balenciagas that Gen Z saves up for and the orthopedic clouds that anyone over 55 swears by. One is a fashion statement that costs $900. The other is a medical decision that costs $89.99 at Famous Footwear.

3. The phone holster

If your phone lives on your hip in a leather pouch, you're wearing a generational ID badge. The belt clip case peaked when phones were actually small enough to quick-draw, yet it persists among those who treat their iPhone like a utility tool rather than a lifestyle accessory.

There's something almost admirable about the phone holster—it suggests you're important enough to need immediate access, like a small-town sheriff. But in an era when everyone else's phone never leaves their hand anyway, the holster reads less "prepared professional" and more "I also still have an AOL email address."

4. Cargo shorts beyond the wilderness

The cargo short is fashion's cockroach—unkillable, adaptable, and deeply unsettling to younger generations. Men of a certain age defend them with constitutional fervor, citing storage capacity and leg ventilation. But wearing them to Sunday brunch is like bringing a backpack to a cocktail party.

Those multiple pockets that once seemed genius now read as trust issues with fabric form. What emergency supplies are you hoarding? The younger generation's minimalist wallets and digital everything have made cargo shorts look like doomsday prep for a very boring apocalypse.

5. The Bluetooth earpiece (the curved one)

While the world moved to AirPods, a determined subset clings to the curved ear hook that screams "I close deals on the golf course, virtually." It's not just outdated; it's specifically outdated, frozen in 2006 like a mosquito in amber.

The solo earpiece suggests a very particular relationship with technology: advanced enough to avoid wires but not quite ready for anything without visible buttons. It's the sweet spot between "I understand Bluetooth" and "but I don't trust it completely." Wearing one today is like paying for Netflix with a check.

6. Pleated khakis (the relaxed fit kind)

Pleats have technically returned to fashion, but these aren't those pleats. We're talking about the specific DNA of pleated-front, relaxed-fit, khaki-colored khakis that formed the business casual uniform of 1996 middle management.

They're inevitably paired with a braided leather belt and a tucked-in polo, completing the look of someone whose fashion sense crystallized the year "Friends" was still making new episodes. It's not that they look bad, exactly. They just look like you're about to explain how to properly collate TPS reports.

7. The fanny pack worn unironically at the waist

Yes, fanny packs returned, but like a movie remake, the new version is completely different. Today's "belt bag" is worn cross-body, crafted from luxury leather, and absolutely never in the original waist position that gave it its unfortunate name.

If yours still contains Purell and a checkbook, if it's positioned like a kangaroo pouch, if you bought it for actual convenience rather than ironic fashion—you're announcing your age like a town crier. The waist-worn fanny pack is fashion's equivalent of double-clicking links on your phone.

8. Reading glasses on a chain

The glasses chain occupies a unique position: undeniably practical, unmistakably aging. It's the fashion equivalent of admitting defeat—yes, you lose things now, and you're solving it with the same technology your grandmother used.

Attempts to modernize—tortoiseshell chains, leather cords, even metallic updates—can't escape the fundamental problem. It's not the chain itself; it's what it represents. You've reached the life stage where your accessories need accessories. Gen Z might embrace vintage everything, but they draw a hard line at eyewear retention systems.

9. The commemorative event t-shirt

Nothing carbon-dates you quite like wearing proof of exactly when you did things. That "Jimmy Buffett 2003 Tour" shirt, the "Thanksgiving 5K 2012" tee, or the faded "Company Picnic 2007" tank top are walking archaeological evidence.

These shirts turn your torso into a timeline of minor achievements and attended events. Meanwhile, younger people wear vintage band tees from before they were born—somehow less dated than your authentic participation trophy in cotton form.

Final thoughts

Here's what's actually happening with these generational uniforms: they're not really about fashion at all. They're about the moment we stop code-switching, when we decide we've earned the right to prioritize comfort over cultural relevance. That moment when you think, "These transition lenses are just practical," you've crossed a threshold you can't uncross.

The uncomfortable truth is that today's generation will have their own versions. Those sleek AirPods will eventually look as dated as a Bluetooth earpiece. The sustainable sneakers will join the orthopedic ones in fashion purgatory. Someone, someday, will write an article about how embarrassing it is that millennials still wear skinny jeans.

Maybe the answer isn't to frantically update everything or purge all comfort from our wardrobes. Maybe it's just to be conscious of what we're broadcasting. Because sometimes a cargo short is just a cargo short. But sometimes it's a flag that says, "I stopped paying attention somewhere around 2003, and honestly, these pockets are really useful."

And you know what? Own it. At least you can carry all your stuff.