Did Tom Wolfe have it right when he claimed that much that is strange and crazy and wonderful in American culture has a way of starting out on the West Coast and eventually filtering East?

For those of us far more fascinated with the inception and dissemination of fashion trends than the consumption of them, the neighborhoods of San Francisco have always been a buffet of people watching for the street style destined to seed the runways and department stores. And Guy Trebay of the New York Times nails it in his opening line of Fashion Diary: The Tribes of San Francisco:

IF a decade spent following the fashion flock will teach you anything, it’s that fashion people seldom have much to do with generating style. This little-appreciated truth naturally comes to mind as the Fashion Week juggernaut lumbers toward Manhattan, a rolling, continuous loop of live-streamed, Tweeted product-placement set to ambient glamour-buzz cranked out by the Industrial Hype Machine.

…What she likes about San Francisco style, said Ms. Grim, who is in her early 40s, is that the town is remarkably free of fashion hierarchies and in-crowd tyrannies. There is no shoe of the season here. There is no It bag. Except perhaps for the pulp-novel heiresses Vanessa and Victoria Traina (who anyway are almost New Yorkers), there are no Vogue-anointed darlings-du-jour.

Photo: Heidi Schumann for NY Times

One thing notably absent, however, in Trebay’s analysis is the influence of Burning Man culture on the San Francisco fashion scene. Given the thousands of key Burner players whose default world residence is the bay area yet keep their culture alive and well year round, I find it hard to believe that their DIY radical self expression anti-corporate style wouldn’t permeate out onto the streets.

Interestingly enough, even though the quirky, innovative aesthetic is pervasive, my handful of trips to San Francisco hunting for the corresponding retailer sources - especially local designers - have left me standing mostly in resale shops or malls in tourist destinations. Ever so often there will be a brave entrepreneur opening a collective of local designers, a curated vintage store in a high rent district that mixes in refashioned pieces, or a boutique carrying avant-garde designers from NY… but those are the exception, not the rule.

Even locals tend to concede, unasked, that San Francisco has historically been an also-ran in fashion terms. “Every time a designer from here has a little bit of success, they disappear to New York,” said Gladys Perint Palmer, executive director of fashion at the Academy of Art University, whose fashion department has an enrollment of 2,500.

Allow me to digress for a moment… 2500 fashion students? That’s about 1000 graduating a year, and that’s just one school in one city. A private, for-profit school with 5 digit tuition. Are there enough jobs in the industry for all of them? Um, no. Back to San Francisco…

Ms. Perint Palmer was referring specifically to Nice Collective, a San Francisco-based label founded in 1997 by Joe Haller and Ian Hannula in part to capitalize on distinctive elements of a local style that, like so much else in the Bay Area, seems to be generated by some loopy organic collective impulse rather than an editorial cabal.

It’s so good I have to restate it: “generated by some loopy organic collective impulse rather than an editorial cabal.” But really, especially since the ‘youth revolution’ of the 60s, has that editorial cabal really dictated much? I’d argue that the best they can do is distill and co-opt the shapes, colors and styling that settles out of the collective choices of the loopy ones. And where do those loopy young ones go for the raw materials of their sartorial expression, especially when their piled into shared bedrooms in sky high rent apartments? You guessed it - thrift stores. Which has over the past couple of decades seeped into the mainstream to the point of becoming a standard style option, perhaps even one with far more cred for the find than the spoon fed trends of the big stores. Trebay quotes a former department store buyer:

“The stigma attached to used-clothing is gone,” she added. “You can either spend $300 on a top at Neiman Marcus or go to the thrift store and buy a bag of clothes for a tenth as much.”

Exactly. And this leaves one with far more time and disposable income for living, not just posing like a well dressed doll.

…Or you can do both and then mash up the results, as the women of the Mission tribe do.

“Those girls are the local Holly Golightlys,” Mr. Ospital of M.A.C. said of women like Rachel Corrie, a waitress at Tartine, who as she left work last week hopped onto her bike wearing what looked like a gingham onesie, feet shod in gladiator sandals and a velvet equestrian hunt cap passing as safety gear perched atop her head.

Girls like her are all over the Mission. You see them flying down Valencia Street on Vespas, their wildly improvised get-ups composed of, say, rags scavenged from the Bay Area’s fabled thrift shops (Out of the Closet in the Castro, Eco-Thrift in Vallejo, the Goodwill outpost just off the 101 Freeway in San Rafael), Marni skirts, vintage SM leathers culled from an eclectic assortment of goods at Marc Josef’s locally legendary antiques shop, Tradesmen, and wingtip shoes.

…“People will wear vintage with some D.I.Y. thing they made themselves with some piece that they couldn’t resist in a boutique,” Ms. Grim said. “They’re not afraid to mash things up.”

Because it might be that one innovative, interesting piece from the boutique, something that might have been inspired by vintage, might even have been made from vintage, but definitely didn’t happen prior to this decade… that’s the piece that communicates that subtle status that signals to other members of the targeted tribe that you’re doing well enough, and care enough, for bits of investment dressing.

“It’s a very difficult city to read,” Mr. Lopez said, owing largely to the local distaste for ostentation and hype, a suspicion of anything that requires a high-degree of difficulty to pull off and that people spend a lot of their lives in cars.

“San Francisco is definitely about quiet style,” he said. “People care. They have the clothes, but they wear them in private. They bring in the most amazing stuff for consignment and I’m always thinking, ‘Where did you wear this thing?’ ”

Stealth Wealth indeed.

When Women’s Wear Daily features ‘Cheap Week’ as a branded theme, that’s a sure sign of the times. Rosemary Feitelberg writes Frugality in Fashion Amidst Economic Slump:

While restrained spending has always gone hand-in-hand with a shaky economy, now, more than ever, Americans are bragging about their rock-bottom fashion finds.

Really? I’ve been doing that with my friends since the 80s. Apparently cheap chic has gone fully mainstream. And ‘fast fashion’ outlets are all too happy to provide alternatives to the traditional department store outlets.

Forever 21 - Times Square flagship store from Sugar Rock Catwalk

While the average American may not be glued to London’s FTSE or Japan’s Nikkei, he or she is more inclined to acknowledge the reality of his or her own financial situation. At Forever 21’s new 90,000-square-foot Times Square flagship Friday with her teenage daughter, Donna Georgio said she is definitely shopping at stores such as Marshalls and TJ Maxx more than Bloomingdale’s like she used to. “Part of it is due to clothes being too expensive and I’m afraid of losing my job or getting into debt,” she said. “I’m 50 years old. I’ve had all the clothes and have gone from having Audis and BMWs to a Volkswagen. My priorities have changed. But I can still hook it up and look good.”

What is interesting to note is that nowhere in this article does Feitelberg mention, even in passing, the essentially slave labor necessary in this race to the rock bottom price. Not that designer labels are above exploitation, mind you. It’s just that, ironically enough, the big names have been the target of enough high profile anti-sweatshop campaigns to force them to implement at least minimal supervision of their subcontractors. But the Forever 21 customer is highly unlikely to care about much beyond getting that trendy dress for $12.

Consumers have plenty of reasons to be frugal and will keep trading down and saving money for years to come, according to Howard Davidowitz, chairman of Davidowitz & Associates Inc., a New York-based retail and consulting banking firm. “People are looking for value and the consumer mind-set has changed forever. All you have to do is look at what’s going on with Mango, Zara and H&M [financially],” he said. “The most dramatic example is Japan. I have a home there. It used to be the biggest place for luxury [shopping]. Everything has changed there because the standard of living is declining and that’s what is going on here.”

W. David Marx noted this shift in Japan back in 2008 at Businessoffashion.com in a blog post titled Japanese Women: From Luxury to Yuru Nachu:

Just five years ago, the Japanese luxury market looked like it was headed for an era of permanent dominance. The economy had finally started to uptick after a long decade of recession in Japan. In came a relatively-unprecedented New Rich — mostly, internet millionaires and employees at foreign investment banks — who ushered a wealth-obsessed zeitgeist into the popular culture. Conspicuous consumption was in.

As an analogue to this movement, female style gravitated away from the street fashion of the 1990s to a style called O-nee-kei (“big sister style”), popular among mainstream females in their early twenties. The O-nee-kei girls were convinced that the only chance at future happiness was a rich suitor, and the bibles of this fashion movement — magazines CanCam and JJ — told them exactly how to dress in order to snag a man in a decent income bracket. The styling was mostly cute office conservative, but instead of designer fashion like in the 1990s, the clothes came mostly from cheap domestic labels. Handbags, however, needed to be from Louis Vuitton or Gucci, and jewelry meant Tiffany, Bulgari, and Cartier. The bling was all in the accesssories.

These O-nee-kei girls would not think for a microsecond about Parisian mode. In fact, these girls started to openly preach a love of “real clothes” — a term to describe inexpensive, trendy apparel from exclusively Japanese companies, mostly designed by young women the same age as customers. Although CanCam‘s focus on looking “classy” to attract rich men kept the luxury handbag on the menu, the “real clothes” rhetoric of “unreal foreign fashion labels vs. real Japanese brands” offered omens of wide-scale luxury rejection.

Ah ha. Keep the easily recognizable status symbol, but skimp on the quality couture clothing that the men they were chasing didn’t care about, anyway. What happens, however, when the supply of rich young men dries up with a global recession? While some girls just step up their game, all too many decide to play a different one.

Yuru Nachu style featured on Businessoffashion.com. W.David Marx photograph

With the less robust economy and a visible rise of underpaid young workers, the New Rich Pageant of 2003 has gone out with a whimper, making the princess-y O-nee-keilook appear somewhat shallow. In this recession-adjusted cultural atmosphere, everyone wants inexpensive, low pressure, and comfortable clothing. This year has thus seen the rise of the Yuru Nachu (“relaxed, natural”) style, which could be a long-term challenge to previous luxury attitudes. This “fashion ethic” is based on relaxed silhouettes, muted colours, and layering organic textiles. From loose “Bohemian” flower print dresses to off-white linen tunics, young women from all taste and consumer subcultures have embraced some variation of this fashion look.

Although Yuru Nachu reflects many of the global industry’s spring trends, the look has succeeded wildly thanks to its ability to connect with young women’s need for a less consumerist take on fashion. Out with the exclusive leather handbag, and in with the $12 “eco bag.”

When the cheap canvas tote replaces the Louis Vuitton as the anti-status status symbol, something is afoot. Back to WWD:

“If you look back at the boom years, a lot of that spending was accessed through credit. Debt-fueled affluence or aspirational consumerism is going to be challenged to return and is not about to get us back to where we were.”

Needless to say, he is not counting on shoppers to start spending more freely anytime soon. “From a big-picture macroeconomic standpoint, we are expecting a very sluggish recovery in the economy that is probably not conducive to consumers waking up one day feeling a lot better about everything and willing to spend again,” said Tuhy

This is bad news for big name ‘luxury’ brands that depended on the aspirational consumer to provide the bread and butter by overpaying for logo laden bags cranked out in third world factories.

“Conspicuous consumption is not very chic right now,” Christopher said. That behavior is counter to the Veblen effect, named after economist Thorstein Veblen, who first noted that decreasing the value of high-end goods only decreases people’s interest in buying them, he added.

Obviously Veblen wasn’t around long enough to witness The Gilt Groupe website. What’s different about now versus Veblen’s Victorian age is that the ‘democratization of fashion’ has 21st century ‘aspirational’ (translate - can’t really afford it but buy it anyway) consumers going after the same luxury brands as the actually rich, which in the long run turns into a cannibalistic effect of sorts. Decreasing the price doesn’t necessarily increase the interest - for it’s safe to assume that, by definition, far more people are interested in these items than can afford them - but instead increases the accessibility of the brand. Which will, in time, decrease the interest of the truly rich who establish the status of the item in the first place.

Consumers are kidding themselves if they think fast fashion distinguishes them from the masses, said Ellen Ruppel Shell, author of “Cheap: The High Cost of Discount Culture.” Topshop may have certain status for being London based and the same might be said of the Swedish chain H&M, but the reality is that neither is all that different from Wal-Mart, she said. “Frugal chic is kind of a label in itself now. But I would argue that we are deluding ourselves. These goods are mass produced, sold all over the world, available to everyone and they don’t involve a lot of creativity,” Shell said. “Truly fashionable people are able to go to thrift stores to find something stylish.”

Yes! Count me amongst the truly fashionable, then.

When Simon Doonan, Creative Director of Barney’s, (one of the handful places where fashion forward designers have access to the rare slice of edgy yet wealthy clientele that can afford their pieces), the extremely influential guy who the rest of the fashion industry knows to pay attention to… when Simon Doonan declares The Death of Trends then it’s a zeitgeist shift worth pondering. There are still going to be shapes and norms that we collectively select (whether you follow them or rebel against them) but I see this as more of a backlash against the accelerated cycle of the spending on disposable clothing hamster wheel and a coalescing around an iconic vocabulary of modernist elements; classics that are tweaked and revised with the times.

photo by Roxanna Lowit for the Jewish Daily Forward

Doonan writes for the Observer:

Fashion is no longer icy and aloof. Fashion is a massive, forgiving, ambiguous melting pot where people and trends can dig in their Lee Press-On nails and hang on for years and years without ever being out.

He goes on to list a few examples:

Uggs. Style pundits may have broadcast their out-ness for years, but last week’s snowy streets were packed with Uggs-sporting fashion plates.

There is a delicious personal irony in this example given that back in 2004 Uggs were cited in a lengthy discussion in Fashion Theory class as an example of trendy for trendy’s sake. Even though this trend might have been initiated by celebrity sitings, (so awesome to slip on between takes on outdoor shoots) could it be that they’ve had staying power because those who bought them discovered they were super comfortable and well made and lasted forever?

Skinny jeans. Despite their supposed out-ness, they have managed to become a fashion staple, especially when tucked into riding boots. Tally ho!

Key term, “Fashion Staple.” So they became ‘in’ a few years ago as the bootcut finally reached mass market saturation, but could it be that one fashion staple was traded in for another? Could it be that people want fashion staples?

Filson clothing, used as an example of 'American Workwear' trend on brand consultancy blog "We Are The Market"

Of course, now that the skinny jean is headed for eventual  mass market saturation, it will eventually go the way of the mom jean (which has been ‘out’ almost long enough to be revived…), so it’s not as if the trend cycle is no longer. But given that ‘fast fashion’ retailing cycles had accelerated to the point of new trends every six weeks, could it be that more and more consumers are weary of this and seeking alternatives?

These alternatives - especially to spending too much - have been found for the past few decades in the ‘indie’ and ‘alternative’ subcultures continued fascination with vintage. As these ‘trends’ arise in the vintage industry about which items are hot and eagerly sought after, it was a natural progression for designers to use said items as inspiration for re-issues.

Leather for women becomes mainstream everyday wear while young men rebel against their parent’s generation by… wearing a jacket and tie?

http://crossanda.blogspot.com/2008/07/look-of-week.html

Two NY Times articles side by side offer a telling glimpse not only into the generation gap, but into shifting gender roles as well. From David Coleman’s Dressing for Success, Again:

“Today the well-off 55-year-old is likely to be the worst-dressed man in the room, wearing a saggy T-shirt and jeans. The cash-poor 25-year-old is in a natty sport coat and skinny tie bought at Topman for a song. Young men are embracing the “Mad Men” elements of style in a way that the older men never did, still don’t and just won’t. The result is a kind of rift emerging between the generation of men in their 20s and 30s and those in their late 40s and 50s for whom a suit was not merely square but cubed, and caring about how one looked was effeminate….

Between those schlubby baby boomer guys delaying retirement, the fact that Gen Y twentysomethings are the largest demographic group in history and thanks to the successes of feminism young men also have to compete for jobs with their female counterparts in a way their fathers never imagined, the boys motivated to make it in this economic climate have to use every tool they can to distinguish themselves and get ahead.

But what are the girls up to? Ruth la Ferla writes,

Hermes Fall 09 from Style.com

A disdain for such sweetly conventional trappings of sex appeal has trickled down of late from tastemakers like Ms. Watson to scores of followers who are swapping their baby-doll dresses, spindly heels and lace for the flinty attractions of studs and leather, mannish jackets and rock-star jeans. Their embrace of a pointedly aggressive, street-smart style suggests that the more adventurous are rethinking the tenets of female allure.

Hallelujah! I’m having a flashback to my teenage years,

Women now want to project a “more powerful sexuality, not a damsel in distress,” said Sharon Graubard, a senior executive with Stylesight, a trend forecasting firm in New York. The look, streamlined and armored for tough times, reflects a distrust of trends and a skepticism toward traditional gender roles. Most tellingly, perhaps, it also represents a pragmatic response to a hobbled economy.

“So-called luxury — people are tired of it,” said Tatsugo Yoda, the owner of Aloha Rag, a fashionably progressive Honolulu boutique with a New York outpost. “They want more utilitarian pieces — military jackets, track pants and classic white shirts — that they can wear more than twice a year.” The look is assertive, Mr. Yoda said, but recognizable at the same time.

Actually, I’d like pieces that I can wear twice a week, and if my male counterparts can have it, why can’t I? As the propects of a banker boyfriends financing fussy fashion habits grow thin right along with jobs in the fashion industry, it’s not surprising that those still standing carry a survivalist chic aesthetic about them.

These notions of sexual allure can be traced to the utility gear adopted by self-styled survivalists, the funky regalia of old-school rockers, even the lingerie-and-leather of Parisian streetwalkers. More Patti Smith than Fergie, current variations on sultriness are thorny and faintly androgynous. These rebellious, antifashion messages, blunted over decades of exposure, have been picked up, inevitably, by the world of high style.

Today shapeless, and sometimes shredded, T-shirts, combat boots and aviator caps reminiscent of a Mad Max epic, are proliferating on runways, as are leggings, fatigues and bicycle shorts.

Of course, no talk of Mad Max survivalist style would be complete without a nod to Burning Man. But how interesting that while the girls are moving towards the rugged and shredded tough girl look, the boys are getting cleaned and pressed. These two phenomenon side by side also indicate to me another nail in the coffin of a world where modern young women could automatically assume that finding a man as a breadwinner was the rule and not an exception. Given that most of the jobs lost in this recession have been to men and thus women outnumber men in the workplace for the first time in history, young men have another reason to dress for success and it ain’t just in the office. Their dating pool might very well consist of women who are doing better financially than they are, and now it’s role reversal time - they’re the ones playing the looks card.

One thing both genders share is a rejection of disposable fashion. Back to Coleman:

“There’s a sense that this return to style, or to a consciousness of how you look, is an attempt by young men to recover a set of values that were at one point very much present in American society and then lost,” he said. “It strikes me as being of a piece with the way young people buy their coffee or their food: paying attention to authenticity or quality, and to whether something is organic or local. They stand for a rejection of the idea that all consumer goods are ephemeral and inevitably made in China and bought at Wal-Mart.””

From Michael Bastian's Fall/Winter 09 collection

Luxury you say? But this guy here on the runway, it looks like he just piled on the vintage clothes. And forgot to button his shirt cuffs… But according to David Coleman of the NY times, Michael Bastian’s clothes are quite in demand, recession notwithstanding.

In the four years since he left his job as the fashion director of Bergdorf Goodman Men to start his own label, Mr. Bastian has found surprising success with an agenda so modest it almost seems radical: to give men slimmed-down, spiffed-up versions of the all-American clothes they have long loved. Military shirts, khakis, wool tweed trousers, rugby shirts, ski sweaters, two-button suits, polos, Western shirts, swim trunks. A lot of designers toss around the phrase “classics with a twist,” but Mr. Bastian delivers: the right classics and the right twist.

His semiannual shows are not wildly produced fantasies of tomorrowland or yesteryear that send the fashion press into raptures. At his informal runway presentations, the clothes just look … good. You don’t think: Yes, it really is all about the 19th-century samurai right now. You think: I want those pants.

Let’s repeat that: “the right classics and the right twist.” This is why you want those pants. And those who purchase said pants aren’t just being practical…

The closest Mr. Bastian comes to a signature look is that apotheosis of laissez-faire wear: cut-off shorts. He has carried them every season, priced at roughly $600.

He is, at least, open about his prices. “It’s crazy,” he said. “I can’t even afford my clothes.” A dress shirt from his line can cost $425; pants, $550; a sport coat, $1,150.

I don’t care how amazing they are - $600 cut offs are NOT practical. But when they are selling out they must be insanely desirable to a target demographic with money to burn.

From Michael Bastian's Fall/Winter 09 collection

This is stealth wealth my friends, it reflects a post-meltdown anxiety when investment dressing questions include “Will I this come in handy in a post apocalyptic Mad Max world?”

“It was about escape,” he said. “I was designing that collection when the world was falling apart, and I thought, ‘God, what are guys possibly going to want?’ So I had this idea of getting just those things you love, things you’d stuff in a duffel bag, and just going. The things you’d save if your house was on fire.”

But you know what I think the real secret to his success is? His focus on his clientele as he eschews the celebrity ego:

He himself has heard people describe him as “a merchant” more than a designer.

“Is that supposed to be a slap?” he wondered. “A compliment? The hardest thing is to take something familiar and make it better. The easiest thing is to create something no one has ever seen before. There’s a reason no one’s ever seen it — because someone tried it, and it didn’t work in the real world.”

Aspiring designers everywhere need to read that. A few more ideas to consider…

“What he does just nails it,” said Dr. Lawrence Piro, a physician in Los Angeles. “He takes these iconic things, like Nantucket reds or an old ski sweater, and he makes the cut and material newer and fresher. He doesn’t eliminate the iconic thing the way designers often do. They’ll go too far to make it their own thing, and Michael gets it just right and stops.”

“Gets it just right.”

At Bergdorf, Mr. Bastian adopted the store’s practice of making lists of things he thought should be in the store. When he couldn’t find them at fashion shows, he had them made for the store’s private label. After working at Bergdorf for almost five years, he took a solo idea — a line of plain, nicely tapered khakis — to Mr. Burke, who encouraged him to go out on his own.

The backbone of the new venture was simple: that list of things he knew guys wanted.

Here’s a phenomenon to debate in future posts - design to fill a market niche, anticipating consumer desires versus design to explore and play with one’s sartorial visions and convincing the customer to buy.

In Irony and the Old Lady, a semi-autobiographical pondering of what women over 50 can and can no longer get away with in fashion, Cathy Horyn ventures into a succinct history lesson:

Irony is harder to part with — for the simple reason that many of us who are now in our 50s grew up with that kind of cerebral fashion and were happy to have clothes that made reference to ideas, worlds, that only those in our orbit could understand. Our mothers (mine, anyway) did not see the point in adopting flannel shirts or rummaging through Goodwill bins for just the right filthy cardigan.

And why would they? Grunge and deconstruction, which provided a counterpoint to the slick, aggressive fashion of the late 1980s, were our peculiar trip.

Except now the tacky colorful excess of the eighties - and even the nineties - are the new thing to be ironic about.

But now that every sitcom re-run look has been re-hashed ad nauseum, how much longer will this irony be truly ironic? Will sporting the ugliest thing in the thrift store (like the early nineties floral dress blech currently selling for $40+ at the local ‘vintage’ store) finally lose its cool? Horyn muses:

It may just be that we’ve had a bellyful of abstractions like irony and now hanker for something direct and concrete. This desire for clarity isn’t limited to an age group — young people seem to crave it, too — and it’s not a defense against the standard complaint that you’re not cool enough to get the joke. Who cares if the joke is available to everyone through the Internet?

Madonna’s bunny ears are just the last gasp. Fashion needs a new antidote for modernity.

“It’s impossible to think of something you can drag out from the land of naffness and make cool,” Mr. Doonan said, referring to the process by which banal or out-of-date styles are brought back and, after much analysis and decoding and finally brand approval, become fashionable. He offered up the drop-waist denim dress, a wholesome style from the ’80s, saying it was rife with ironic potential.

I laughed. That was really scraping the bottom of the barrel.

He thought for a moment. “To be overweight and not care, like Beth Ditto, is the most transgressive you can be right now.” But he only said that, I think, because plus-size stories were in a couple of newspapers that day. And you know what they say about newspapers.

from NY Times: breaking ground for the White House kitchen garden

We’ve all heard about Michelle Obama as a fashion trendsetter and how her wearing a brand is the kind of marketing gold that money can’t buy. So if Michelle can turn the White House lawn into a kitchen garden, does that mean we’ll start seeing less Chem Lawn and more victory gardens in suburbs across America? Will neighborhood association rules have to cave on this one as the sustainable, local, organic and healthy food movement gains mainstream momentum? Let’s hope so.

The organization Eat The View is taking credit for instigating the replanting of the White House Victory Garden.

Eat the View is a campaign to plant high-impact food gardens in high-profile places. We asked the Obamas to lead the way by replanting a kitchen garden on the First Lawn and they heard our call!

From House of Bendie site

When I say ‘three piece suit and tie’ chances are you think of formal business attire. Something only business executives wear every day, most others have one or two they pull out of the closet only for job interviews or weddings. But did you know that a century ago, what we recognize as a ’suit’ was considered a downright casual alternative to the traditional tail coat and bow tie combo? Which has had me searching the crystal ball for some time now speculating what renegade casual menswear might become the new business standard in a few decades. Given the steadfast ubiquity of pricey premium ’streetwear’ over the past decade, I’ve thought outloud that the hoodie/tailored shirt over graphic tee/blue jeans/trainers combo might just be the thing for 2020 and beyond. And this morning the fashion section of the Guardian UK pointed me to a hot new company, House of Bendie, creating none other than… bespoke hoodies out of suiting material. From the House of Bendie home page:

a UK clothing line that takes classic, British suiting fabrics and creates unsuit-like clothes for men and women. We specialise in bespoke hoodies: hand-made, made-to-measure, hooded jackets crafted from exquisite suit materials.

They appear to start at about the equivalent of $350 US dollars.

From House of Bendie site

Now tell me that’s not a sign….

While many luxury retailers are taking their marketing under the radar, appealing to stealth wealth and discreet luxury, Saks Fifth Avenue is taking a bold move in the opposite direction.

Saks Fifth Avenue shopping bags. Image from NYTimes.com

Their Spring 2009 ad campaign cops a graphically bold stance of shopping with an aesthetic of defiance lifted directly from none other than… the icons of communist propaganda. Whether it makes you cringe, gag or crack and ironic smile, such an open embrace of socialist chic as a ploy to stimulate carefree consumerism is a sure reverberation of the hairpin turn in the zeitgeist. Eric Wilson writes for the NY Times: Consumers of the World Unite

SHOPPING, these days, is a political act. If you are brave enough to buy a $2,000 Prada handbag, you might rationalize that you are helping to stimulate the economy. Solidarity, people!

Saks Fifth Avenue, which has surely felt the recession’s sting, is taking just such a fist-raising stand with its spring marketing. The campaign is inspired by the bold graphic designs and propaganda spirit of Constructivist art — although it is intended to be tongue-in-cheek.

Saks Fifth Avenue ad. Image from NYTimes.com

So is Alexander Rodchenko (the constructivist artist who’s work ‘inspired’ the Saks campaign) rolling in his grave? Not necessarily. I emailed the Times article to my friend who’s actually read Karl Marx, and here’s what he had to say:

But when you view it ala Marx, it makes perfect sense. To him, all art is propaganda. And propaganda is simply anything that promotes a point of view. The Soviets were using their
propaganda to promote nationalism; marketers are using the same images to promote
consumerism, by simply making small changes (prettier models, having the lines move
towards products). It’s still a “Join our bandwagon” message.

(more…)

from an old Anthropologie catalog

When I first read the WWD article, Anthropologie Engages Shoppers with Craft Workshops, (the store was hosting a series of ‘reinvention workshops’ teaching customers to make gifts from articles they already had in their closets) I was perplexed, and more than a little suspicious. Why would a company whose core strategy is to sell this vintage, crafty, nostalgic boho aesthetic for a hefty premium encourage people to circumvent their cash registers?

At the December workshops, customers learned how to refashion blouses, rework cardigan sweaters, revamp gloves and hats and renew scarves…Other seminars were devoted to making hair accessories, wrapping packages with scarves, reinventing plush toys and revitalizing ornaments.

…the reinvention workshops “aren’t designed to sell anything,” said Wendy Wurtzburger, Anthropologie’s chief merchandising officer, explaining that the goal is to teach women how to get more out of the existing items in their wardrobes.

Really? The chief merchandising officer is defying the message of overconsumption to teach women to get more out of what they already have?

From a post on Jezebel.com

The retailer said giving new life to old things is especially relevant given the state of the economy, adding that customers will discover how “extraordinary and meaningful a hand-crafted, remade gift can be.”

But… doesn’t that just highlight how extraordinarily unmeaningful gifts purchased in a chain store showcasing a non existent lifestyle and made by sweatshop workers are? (more…)