Here’s one more reason to have a creative crush on Brian Eno. He’s widely recognized for his music, but who knew he was such an articulate visionary?

http://vivoscene.com/feature/brian-eno-music-77-million-paintings/

Here are some excerpts from an interview with Stewart Brand that appeared in a compilation of writings on culture published by Edge.org, Culture: Leading Scientists Explore Societies, Art, Power, and Technology in which Eno seeks to find a big theory about culture “within which one can discuss anything one might call nonfunctional, stylistic behavior – which is what humans actually spend more and more of their time doing.”

Is there a way of understanding why humans continuously and constantly and without exception engage in cultural activity? We don’t know of human groups that don’t produce something that we would call art. It seems to be something that we are biologically inclined to do. If we are, then what is the nature of that drive? What is it doing for us?

If the creation of and engagement in this nonfunctional, stylistic behavior is indeed a result of a deep seated biological drive, then this would go a long way in explaining why people will work so hard and/or drive themselves into debt in order to be a part of lifestyle niches that embody their aspirations. It sure does explain why, despite an overflowing closet, I continue to hunt down and buy clothes that reflect the intersection of emerging tastes and my own.

The first assumption is that all human groups engage in something we would call artistic behavior – if they are at all capable of it, that is if they are beyond the most basic problems of survival, and even when they aren’t, they will engage in decorative, ornamental, and often very complex stylistic behavior. This takes a big chunk of their resources. It takes a lot of energy. So the first question is, Why would that be the case? If it is the case, one would assume that it’s doing something more than just mildy entertaining – it’s doing something important for us.

From starving and sleep deprived fashion designers ducking student loans to suburban shop-a-holics decorating their homes from Hobby Lobby while their husbands trick out their Harleys, this aesthetic communication via whatever lifestyle niche one aspires to be a part of often comes at the sacrifice of seemingly more pragmatic concerns, and has been the frustration of many a political activist (who are themselves often dressed in a way respected by their peers) struggling to motivate democratic participation.

Everybody knows that science is powerful and could be dangerous; threfore, there’s a whole lot of criticism on that basis. What people don’t realize is that culture is powerful and could be dangerous, too. As long as culture is talked about as though it’s a kind of nice little add-on to make things look a bit better in this sort of brutal life we all lead, as long as it’s just seen as the icing on the cake, then people won’t realize that it’s the medium in which we’re immersed, and which is forming us, which is making us what we are and what we think.

Fashion, and the aesthetics it dictates, is not frivolous. And I’m using the term ‘fashion’ not to refer to clothes, per se, but to the mechanism by which shifting collective tastes coalesce.

What is cultural value and how does that come about? Nearly all of art history is about trying to identify the source of value in cultural objects. Color theories and dimension theories, golden means, all those sort of ideas, assume that some objects are intrinsically more beautiful and meaningful than others. New cultural thinking isn’t like that. It says that we confer value on things. We create the value in things. It’s the act of conferring that makes things valuable. Now this is very important, because so many, in fact all fundamentalist ideas, rest on the assumption that some things have intrinsic value and resonance and meaning. All pragmatists work from another assumption. No it’s us. It’s us who make those meanings.

Humans imbue cultural forms with value. From clothing to religion (and indeed, one might argue that the overlap between the two is broader than usually thought) this process occurs through collective selection, where an elite recognized circle of tastemakers is constantly reviewing and accepting or rejecting challenges to norms that shift and evolve over time by responding to what is currently resonating through a population.

This is something that anyone who deals with world finances wold probably understand; value is conferred and the result of a system of confidences among people. But it is not something that religions generally understand. It is certainly not something that fundamentalists understand. For me, so many of the really critical bottleneck-type problems of our time come from that difficulty of understanding that it’s humans who make the value in things. It didn’t get there, it wasn’t in there, it isn’t there all the time, it wasn’t made by somebody else and left there for us to find it. We made it. We put it there.

The latest indie start up co-optation:

On Aug. 5, cable TV behemoth and Internet provider Comcast Corp. bought the 8-year-old company for a reported $125 million.

From today’s LA Times fashion section, Monica Corcoran writes about the DailyCandy phenomenon, and its importance in getting new stores and labels off to a flying start:

Each piece reads like a whisper in the ear from a giddy chum who’s always in the know

… new brand of tastemaker. It’s a street-level source that bucks the fashion system of seasonal offerings and big-name advertising pressure, but still manages to spur subscribers to scurry off to snap up of-the-moment striped knee socks or an ionic hair treatment. DailyCandy squeaks out fresh style content every day, and fashion magazines later nibble from their content.

Scurrying off to chase the latest ‘it’ thing? Spells ‘fashion victim’ to me, but then again that what being an LA fashionista is all about. That whole scene has made me cringe, bringing up bad memories of mean snotty rich girls in high school and college. The candy girls were prescient, and while inspiring knock-off sites abound, do have the first mover advantage:

Fashion magazine editors stomped their stilettos for not starting their own lifestyle newsletters. The sale inspired the type of jealousy reserved for twentysomething blonds who land septuagenarian billionaires.

Rest assured, just because these ladies started out as small outsiders does not mean they aren’t enjoying wielding the power of the institution they built. They’ve got the PR firms eating out of their sugar coated hands:

…Another publicist puts it more bluntly: “Look. You don’t want to get on the wrong side of the DailyCandy girls,” she says, after being assured that she won’t be named. “They’re perfectly nice. But they like to get their way.” …Over a recent lunch at the bistro Palihouse in West Hollywood, Meers and Epstein demurred when asked about their reputation around town as tough chicks. “It’s not like we’re being demanding . . . ” Meers says, poking at her arugula. “But my biggest fear is that someone will read something I wrote about and say, ‘I already knew that.’ “

What’s the trendiest thing around? Neutral understated classics, of course! From Gap.com today:

Maybe in decades past there was such a thing as a distinction between ‘fashionable’ clothes and ‘classic’ clothes that existed outside the system, safe bets for those who care about style, but wanted to escape perceived frivolity and excess. If there was such a time, be sure that it is no longer. What changed? Post-modernism and the main stream acceptance, even status, of vintage and thrift. Suddenly those literal classics became ‘cool’, were subsequently co-opted by mall vendors and thus now inexorably connected with the fashion system.

In the late 80s/early 90s the Gap was somewhat prescient of this desire to move away from 80s commercialized excess and the bourgeoisation of bohemia and rose to fortune making timely basics that seemingly eschewed fashion while simultaneously encouraging individual style. John Brodie explains it beautifully in his article for Fortune profiling then Gap CEO, Mickey Drexler:

Drexler is closely watched in his industry because of the way Gap, which he ran for 19 years, transcended retailing to become a pop-culture phenomenon. The reasonably priced pocket T’s, clean white store interiors, and the ads with icons like Miles Davis in khakis made Gap into a kind of iWear for the nation. Gap’s clothes were both mass and class, populist and cool.

Their infamous Annie Leibowitz ad campaigns (where, oh where can I get these images…) imbued these ordinary, mass market clothes with bohemian mystique by placing them on cultural icons in their ads that encouraged on to celebrate one’s individuality… by purchasing the same mass produced clothing as everyone else. (This oxymoron drove me batty at the time.)

The Gap’s financial troubles have been in the headlines for years, as well as their repeated attempts to capture the cool that they’ve lost. Their latest is another attempt to return to their roots and focus on the ‘classics’ they were known for. The ads are remarkably similar to the Liebowitz campaign of decades past – basic item + culturally cool tastemaker + black & white photography + text about individuality.

Eric Wilson for the NY Times analyzes Patrick Robinson’s designs for the Gap and whether or not this strategy will prove profitable. Notice the language:

…windows announce in big block letters that a “New Shape” is in store
…The clothes are indeed compelling. The trench coat and shirtdress styles and the muted colors — a variety of grays, browns and purple plaid — are at once basic and fashionable, a duality that could be either girly and pretty or androgynous in an Oliver Twist goes to a Nirvana concert sort of way. But will customers, especially those who look to Gap for jeans and T-shirts, get it?
Part of the reason is that the designs are selling, he said, citing a deep V-neck shirt and pull-on skirt introduced this summer as an illustration of how classic clothes could be fashionably updated.

And from Eric Wilson’s post runway analysis last February:

Gap has been struggling for years to strike a balance between affordable basics and interesting fashion looks

…he bristled at describing Gap designs as “basics.”

“These are just iconic, cool pieces that are classics, not basics,” he said. “The fit and the colors needed to be more relevant.”

Is this a viable strategy, especially considering the sheer volume of full-priced transactions needed to produce the numbers shareholders want to see across the Gap’s ubiquitous multitude of stores? Although the Patrick Robinson runway does have a cool, neo-grunge look, will enough of the customers that identify with this style cross the threshold of the Gap to get these? Or will the tarnished strip-mall image of the Gap stores themselves now add a patina of uncool to these pieces? The brand equity cannot be rebuilt in a day, but Wilson’s initial observations spell trouble:

Inside the Gap store, a few dozen customers were trying on $58 waffle-knit cardigans and blazers made of fleece. But for a better picture, one could stand outside on the street corner for 15 minutes and count shopping bags: 6 from Gap, 27 from Abercrombie on Monday; 8 from Gap, 38 from Abercrombie on Tuesday.

I have no idea why this issue drives me up a wall, but it does: Even though it’s a favorite industry buzz term, there are no such things as truly ‘timeless’ classics. Nothing exists completely immune to fashion cycles. (Maybe one can find a handful of examples of items that cross multiple decades, that may not actually go out of fashion even though they may not be in fashion at a particular time, and anyone who has images of such items, I’d love to see them.)

The following quotes were taken from a WWD article by David Moin, Talbots’ New Look. First, let’s start with the quote we’ve all heard a million times:

“The most important thing to say about the brand is that it’s ageless and timeless,” added Michael Smaldone, chief creative officer. “That is the true platform we are working on.”

Riiiiight….and how’s that been working as a retail strategy?

The better-priced misses’ chain has been struggling for several years, lacking fashion pizzazz and misreading the trends.

Those declining profits sure haven’t kept the shareholders happy. Once your customer has a closet full of these, why come back to the store next season for more? What if those ‘classics’ are actually perceived as frumpy and dowdy? And if they were truly ‘timeless’, then why the need to update?

The classic looks the 61-year-old Hingham, Mass.-based chain has been known for are still present, but everything has been updated or, as officials prefer to say, “reinvigorated,” and in very apparent ways.

“This really is a relaunch of a venerable brand,” said Trudy F. Sullivan, Talbots chief executive officer and president, during an interview at the retailer’s New York creative studio on Tuesday. “Dowdy is done. It’s wiped out.”

The images above are from the current Talbot’s online catalog. What I see are watered down, bland, vanilla versions of trends that have been around for a few years. Of course, the fact that these do not appeal to my sensibilities is probably a good thing for Talbots – I’m hardly their target demographic.

Sullivan explained that the brand DNA remains intact. “It’s not like we are trying to change what we’ve been. It’s about being reinvigorated. We are thrilled to be a Boomer brand. We’re not trying to go contemporary.”

At the $2.2 billion chain, modernizing the classics involved creating a “war room” stuffed with catalogues going back as far as 1957. The team used the archive to examine the retailer’s “iconics,” such as tweeds, houndstooths, duffle coats, ballet flats, stadium coats, plaids and jackets.

It will be interesting to see how this strategy plays out. Conservative, middle-class, suburban boomer ladies are far less likely to be susceptible to the insecurities that their wardrobes are out-of-style enough to demand spending money to update them. At least not in the volumes that the shareholders would like to see.

I just love what Sameer Reddy had to say about the opening ceremony uniforms for the U.S. Olympic team. This quote is from his piece for Newsweek. The photo below I pulled from a Gawker post, Did Ralph Lauren Embarrass America, that echoes similar ideas.

“Lauren has built an empire by becoming the unofficial outfitter of the American Dream, marketing an idealized image of America’s former ruling class to the nation at large. However, the WASP aesthetic he sells—think of characters from “The Great Gatsby,” clothed in tennis whites and delicate tea dresses—has come to represent a classist and racist set of ideals, hardly representative of the current multicultural social fabric of the United States. A strange choice then, to redefine the U.S. team’s visual identity in this way, even as it marches further away from the 20th century, when WASP power reached its peak. But if one stops to consider America’s shaky status as the world’s preeminent superpower, Lauren’s nostalgic, retro creations begin to make more sense.

“His designs for the Olympic team’s appearance at the opening ceremony consisted of navy blue blazers (emblazoned with a gargantuan Polo logo) paired with white button-downs and matching trousers, accessorized with a jaunty white newsboy cap and red, white and blue silk tie or scarf. His ensembles for the closing ceremony are more casual, with white sleeveless knit-sweaters and crisp cotton-shorts. Social conservatives would probably fail to read anything insidious into these outfits—after all, at least the U.S. team looked pulled-together and semi-formal—but the clothes, in and of themselves, are not the problem. The issue is that the Polo brand is built upon an aesthetic intended to communicate to the world, the wearer’s successful assimilation into the traditional institutions of upwardly-mobile American culture—the elitist world of typically WASP-only country clubs, prep schools and cotillions. (Never mind that Ralph Lauren, née Lifshitz, was born in the Bronx to Jewish immigrants who most certainly would not have been allowed into the country clubs that many of his designs seem destined for.)

“”America has lately suffered something of an identity crisis,” explains Claire Hamilton, retail editor of trend-forecasting website WGSN. “Our political failures abroad raise obvious questions about American authority. Ralph Lauren is a globally recognized classic, and more than any other American brand, it embodies a lifestyle, [although] maybe not one that the average American can identify with.”

“Lauren’s clothing may represent an anachronistic era, but it also pays homage to the very contemporary idea of pervasive commercialism. For one thing, the U.S. Olympic team’s outfits were made on the cheap in China, the better to bolster the bottom line. Then there is Lauren’s vulgar addition of an enormous Polo logo to the breast of the blazers, the effect of which is to nearly eclipse the Olympic logo on the opposite side, and to equate the Olympics and Polo Ralph Lauren as being equal in value. Intelligent marketing perhaps, but not exactly in keeping with the heroic, selfless spirit of achievement that the ancient Greeks had in mind when they inaugurated the Games thousands of years ago. But the fact is, the Olympics are big business. NBC sold more than $1 billion worth of advertising slots, and Ralph Lauren stands to mint a fortune with online sales of a full line of replicas of the Olympic uniforms. (If you’d like to help him out, just head to ralphlauren.com.)”

Well it sure seems they’ve earned their right to stake a claim on the now infamous version of the American flag with corporate logos as the stars. (Anyone know who did this originally? Was it Adbusters or did they just propagate it?)

Dramatic titles do catch a reader, but when those readers have the ability to respond in the comment section, it can get snarky while being informative. The JC Report, a professional site “Inside Global Fashion Trends” has a three part series titled The Death of Trends. After reading through the first installment and the firestorm of comments (some admittedly in the “Let me show you how I know more than you” category) including the author’s responses, perhaps a more accurate – albeit less exciting – title could have been “The Evolution of the Fashion Trend Phenomenon.” They are certainly worth a read, comments included.

(Photo note: I did a Google image search for ‘fashion trends’ and this is the first one that popped up. Given my heritage as a dyer and my delight that ombre is all over the place, I decided to go with it. I pulled it from a post on the blog My Life, My Obsession, My Things. She did a great job interpreting some of the macro-trends for Spring 08)

Part 1 introduces the topic and discusses the change from overarching seasonal directives of ‘right and wrong’ towards an increasingly more ‘post-modern’ bricolage assortment of accelerated micro-trends that consumers mix and match in their own personal way.

Part 2 considers how new media (bloggers and the like) are contributing to this phenomenon.

Part 3 discusses how this interfaces with retail; how consumer expectations of constant novelty have transformed the old two season cycle into collections every few months, and what effect the consumer crunch might have when the cheap, ‘disposable’ clothing that facilitates this is no longer quite as affordable for the masses.

My take on the whole matter? The ‘bricolage’ thing has been around for quite sometime. Although ‘boho’ might be spreading to somewhat wider circles, I still believe the majority of consumers (those ordinary folks less likely to be featured in ‘street style’ blogs) prefer a little direction and lack the confidence – or interest – to create novel looks. The difference is that they now have a more segmented and targeted assortment of retailers to choose from. But head to any college campus or mall or even church and people still look remarkably similar to others in the demographic groups they are a part of.

As for the consumerism issue, I think this quote from part 3 is prescient – when people have less disposable income and have to more carefully consider their purchases as investments – remember that ‘cautious pause?‘ – then the thrill of buying into every fleeting trend diminishes into anxiety and – dare I say – there might just be more demand for designs with at least a few years of longevity. Pieces that signify ‘now’ (why buy more of what you have that you can find in thrift stores) but you can project yourself wearing for a while.

Despite the rise of micro-trends and their impact on the rest of the industry, the current economic slowdown may prove fast fashion isn’t as invincible as it seems. According to a recent report by JP Morgan, non-food retailers are being faced with the biggest inflationary costs in a decade, which may lead to higher prices for the consumer. If the day comes when that tribal-printed maxidress can no longer be purchased for less than a margarita, shoppers may become more discerning about which trends they buy into. And, by virtue of natural selection, this could ultimately lead us back into the headline trends of yesteryear.

“The most important prerequisite to revival is that the original style has faded from view. ” Business of Fashion offers this insightful analysis on the failure of the Japanese editorial trend engine to dictate the adoption of the preppy-with-a-twist “Neo-Trad” look (Think Thom Browne and Band of Outsiders). The look  labeled “American Traditional” or “Ametora” fell flat. Why? Because it was too closely associated with that first wave of western influence favored by our fathers. Sure, we here in the states have preppy dads, but not in the same way. Whereas our preppy look falls in step with the gradual evolution of menswear, in Japan it represented a radical departure from their own traditional dress. Apparently one that still carries too many negatively coded connotations. (Quote and photo below taken from Business of Fashion)

The core problem with American prep style in Japan is actually more complex, a quirk of the Japanese fashion market’s historical development. From the late 1950s to the early 1980s, American and British traditional casual styles – Ivy League and Oxbridge looks – formed the mainstream of Japanese men’s fashion. The wealth and sophistication of the 1980s, however, brought European designer wear (“mode”) to the mix, which provided a dialectic antithesis to the original Ametora. Even when the 1990s moved away from designer lines to casual urban street fashion, preppie was still too grounded as “non-fashion” to ever elicit real attention from hipster youth.

As suggested by this Japanese site, most Japanese youth simply see American trad as “dad fashion.” Stylists and fashion editors may have the confidence to wear re-conceptualized Ivy League styles with a dash of irony, but youth subconsciously see the core elements of the Ametora fashion as too closely resembling the clothes worn by fathers and older salarymen.

…The moral of the story is that localisation in foreign markets does not just mean “adapting Western looks to local culture.” Japan now has a relatively long history of importing Western fashion, and so foreign trends not only have to be new and interesting, but also have to avoid reviving “rejected styles” that remain strong in society. The most important prerequisite to revival is that the original style has faded from view. “American Trad” in Japan, unfortunately, has a very shallow grave.

I was thrilled to see that Nadia, of Butter by Nadia, responded to my previous post about her Signature Wrap Dress and where she got her inspiration. No, she did not copy it from a thrift store find, and it’s a very inspiring story for DIYers everywhere.

I’ve seen pics of the Victoria’s Secret dress (no longer in their current catalog) and it does appear to be a direct rip-off rather than an ‘inspired by’ taken to a new level. Ethical or not, this is a heavily debated but institutional part of the mass fashion system. Besides the difficulties inherent in enforcing the proposed copyright laws (the notion of lawyers pouring over the minute differences in flat patterns is almost comical) one argument made is that the target markets for the designer versus knock offs are different. Often the mass market knock off buyer isn’t even aware of the designer original, and if she is, she’d pretty much never buy it because even though she may recognize the superior and subtle differences of the original, it’s just not in her budget. (That would be me. I want this dress, but I just don’t budget that kind of money for dresses.)

What I’d love to know, from the perspective of someone who has directly experienced this, is she feels this has had an impact on her sales? Would the customer who finds this dress in the VS catalog have found the Butter by Nadia original? Are clients who covet this dress and would be likely to pay $250 deciding not to buy from you because they search for and find a cheaper version elsewhere?

I’m also curious about the origination of the strikingly similar DIY dress on Rostitchery. I wonder if we can get her to jump in the discussion as well. She remarks that this idea in general has been around for a while:

this type of dress has been around at least since the 1970′s–i distinctly remember reading an article about dresses of this type in cosmopolitan magazine when i was about 14 years old–and i recently bought a pattern for something similar.

and also mentions that the DIY excitement on Craftster circles that around the Lydia Silvestry dress (see above; one can definitely see the seventies alive and well here – also note on her site that the dress is patented? That’s a whole ‘nother thread…) Rostitchery also points us to the one for sale on the Monif C site (below) which openly credits a vintage dress for their inspiration.

An important take-away? It’s entirely possible for different people to create really similar designs right out of their own heads even if they are not copying anyone. Female bodies usually have two legs, two arms, two breasts, a head along with a neck and torso to connect them all. With an iconic vocabulary of shapes to pull from, it’s rare to find a ‘classic’ bombshell basic of which there isn’t a version out there already.

So if this were to end up in copyright court (which I’m convinced would benefit no one but the lawyers) who could lay claim? Even though Butter by Nadia clearly thought up the idea on her own, and there’s a strong probability that Victoria’s Secret ripped off a hot new designer, if proof can be shown that versions of this look are already in the vocabulary, then who can truly claim it?

So much of the fashion financial equation relies on managing and funding the production/distribution/marketing piece and the economies of scale that go with the big guys. I think Nadia’s comments identify the only true strategy, which is to connect with the source of innovation and inspiration, which is the only thing no one can rip off from you.

Kind of a fun play on words since as I recall in math class the whole point of the line going towards infinity is that you couldn’t find a beginning or end to it….

Anyways, there I was reading some comments to a Fashionista “Adventures in Copyrights” post illustrating the endless back and forth of the ‘are knockoffs stealing or is that just the way fashion works’ debate when low and behold a reference to the ‘infinity’ or ‘convertible’ dress that had become the topic of an email thread started by Spinsta.

The guest poster was citing the Butter by Nadia wrap dress (shown here) as an example that had been knocked off and thus cost the original designer sales that would have otherwise gone to them.

There is definitely evidence that knockoffs take away from the profits of the original designer. It may not seem so bad for the likes of DVF who have multi million dollar companies and corporate backing, but for young designers it is a HUGE problem. For instance, ButterByNadia’s Signature Wrap Dress (one size, countless ways to wear it) is being knocked off like crazy (in unflattering colors and fabrics) by companies like Victoria’s Secret and Two Birds Bridesmaid. Every time the knock-offs get press, it steals thunder from the brooklyn-based designer who came up with design in the first place. It’s awful when a young designer’s creativity is stolen by fashion vampires.

And I was thinking about how ironic this was given that I’d just been forwarded DIY directions to a remarkably similar dress where the post author invites the user to copy, but only if they don’t do it for commercial purposes. The Rostitchery post apparently inspired quite a thread on Craftster with lots of people giving it a shot. My Aim is True writes about how super easy it was:

This was a really fun and easy project that took me literally an hour and about $15 worth of fabric. Comparable dresses are selling online from $100-400. Gotta love that.

So has Butter by Nadia been wronged? While it’s no surprise that the big brands knocked them off,  I think the more interesting question to ask would be where did they get the inspiration for this in the first place? Perhaps we’ll be lucky enough for them to respond. But even if they did think this up all on their own and not copy some similar vintage find from the seventies, the fact remains that this is a pretty simple and classic idea; the kind of stuff fashion design students come up with playing with jersey yardage and a dress form.

Anything that an amateur can zip up with one seam in less than an hour at home is just begging for volume mass production and race-to-the-bottom price points. And I doubt seriously that the folks who are buying the knock-offs would have paid the $250 for the boutique version. I also suspect (and hope) that the Butter by Nadia version is made of a finer fabric and more finishing details than the mass market versions. As for the DIY gals, those choices are all yours – show us your style and skill!

In an article for “Fast Company” titled Is the Tipping Point Toast, Clive Thompson reports on Duncan Watts’ challenge to Malcom Gladwell’s widely adopted by marketing gurus belief that trends are started by a tiny fraction of super cool influential tastemakers whose choices are eagerly copied and spread to the masses. Watts clarifies that instead of actually creating these trends, the creative class hipsters are merely the ones with the hyper alert antennae that pick up on the idea first. And that for every hip idea that spreads, there are many more that don’t:

“If society is ready to embrace a trend, almost anyone can start one–and if it isn’t, then almost no one can,” Watts concludes. To succeed with a new product, it’s less a matter of finding the perfect hipster to infect and more a matter of gauging the public’s mood.

Sure, there’ll always be a first mover in a trend. But since she generally stumbles into that role by chance, she is, in Watts’s terminology, an “accidental Influential.”

Perhaps the problem with viral marketing is that the disease metaphor is misleading. Watts thinks trends are more like forest fires: There are thousands a year, but only a few become roaring monsters. That’s because in those rare situations, the landscape was ripe: sparse rain, dry woods, badly equipped fire departments. If these conditions exist, any old match will do. “And nobody,” Watts says wryly, “will go around talking about the exceptional properties of the spark that started the fire.”