economics

At it’s core, fashion (as well as other non-survival goods and expressions) has two basic purposes:

• To facilitate artistic/aesthetic expression as a mode of leisure or creativity.
• To reflect social information (belonging to a group, reflecting social status as linked to economic status, etc.).

The second purpose (social signaling), as we’ve mentioned before, includes the theory of conspicuous consumption. Briefly, the theory states that people use expensive clothing as an indicator of financial means, which have consistently been tied to social status in the modern world. Why social status is so directly correlated with financial means (in the vast majority of cases) is another question for another time.

In watching interactions of people over the years, I’ve noticed that things aren’t so cut and dry. Certainly, not all of us try to buy the most expensive things possible and then make people painfully aware of the fact (though many people like that are out there). For many, especially in this strange, evolving cultural climate of hipsterism, the sustainability movement, and the recession, we pride ourselves on not spending money , on not wasting time and resources. The society is still class-based in many senses, and we can see the results in our analysis of consumerism:

Income Demarcations

Under Veblen’s original theory, each of us would try to buy as much unnecessary goods (less so services, since they’re not as easily showcased) as our income would allow, so as to appear that our income was larger, large enough to comfortably spend money on such vagaries. In reality, we would be like ducks; looking calm and content on the surface, but paddling madly beneath the surface to support a lifestyle at the edge of our means.

To a large extent, this is still quite true. Conspicuous consumption may very well be the culprit of the “credit crunch,” as many people gamed the system (taking out multiple mortgages, many lines of credit, etc.) to construct a lifestyle (luxurious, unnecessarily large homes, inefficient cars, designer goods) that was well beyond their means.

However, there is some subtlety here, and I do not believe this behavior is universal, but that it depends on a category of income:

• The super-rich among us (tens of millions or more) do not need to signal their economic status in today’s connected world, their company logos, banking portfolios, and reputations usually precede them. Instead, they must fight against an elitist, corrupt image due to recent scandals among the very rich. Actions, like the mayor of New York working for a salary of $1, are in a sense conspicuous (because they’re saying the don’t need the money), but are not consumption. There is still a deliberate effort to signify social status, but through the mechanism of restraint, rather than excess. Ultra-rich people (i.e. Bill Gates) may take this a step further with conspicuous donations of money and time to charitable and non-profit organizations.
• The middle to upper-middle class is the biggest culprit of conspicuous consumerism. These people often have enough means to feign the life of a super-rich person, and this often represents an increase in their social status. Further, the benefit of moderate overspending for this class (more shielded from taxes and corporate instability) typically outweighs the perceived risk of a few years of debt, given the stability of their six-figure jobs. Finally, whereas the super-rich must actively fight an elitist perception, due to their (often deservedly) elite position, members of the middle-class are often still in (social) competition with one another, and this engenders a need for “keeping up” or “one-upping” the neighbors/colleagues/family members, facilitating a conspicuous consumption mindset.
• On the other hand, members of the lower to lower-middle class do not have the means (through any financial tricks) to emulate a rich lifestyle, and tend to find the behavior of the upper-middle class as hypocritical and vapid, and thus eschew it. This is the “savers” culture, the group of people which prides itself on being practical, saving money for the future, and “getting deals.” There is unquestionably still a large part of society which views waste as waste, an irresponsible behavior (especially when trying to support a family) that should be chastised, not rewarded with social status.

Interestingly, it is this difference in mindset between (I’m generalizing here) the lower-middle and upper-middle classes about consumerism that incites the social antagonism between them (a perceived plebian/patrician or proletarian/bourgeoisie dynamic). In the end, these negative emotions are destructive, and remain part of a destructive social class system, and conspicuous consumption is just one manifestation of this animosity, an unfortunate consequence. It seems that changing conspicuous consumption is doomed to fail, unless one addresses the underlying sociological and class issues.

-Barry

I was curious today as to why exactly left-footed and right-footed socks are simply not found in the market today. Instead, we just get a pair of socks, which we are free to place on either foot. While there are a few patterns of dress socks with designs up the ankle, and these are usually intended to be worn on the outside, it remains that the vast majority of socks can not be differentiated by foot.

I did find a few examples, though they tended to be designed for athletic performance. A quick search on Google Scholar came up with no medical evidence supporting their utility (from a functional standpoint), but an oddly arcane and detailed patent did come up.

This all makes well enough sense. Since we never need to articulate our toes for daily tasks, and since socks quickly stretch to be relatively non-confining and non-supportive, it seems a waste of effort to create different sock shapes (though I do sometimes notice bunching near my smaller toes due to a sock that has been widened on both sides).

From a fashion perspective, especially for men, the toes of socks are almost never seen. If any portion of the sock is seen, it is the ankle to calf tubing (which may or may not contain some designing). Thus, it is unsurprising that differentiated socks have not gone to market; the fashion benefits are zero, and the health/comfort benefits nearly zero.

Investigation complete.

-III

Imitation has an interesting role in fashion products, and the economy of fashion in general.

Designer products, such as Louis Vuitton bags, Lacoste shirts, and Jimmy Choo shoes are often imitated to near exactness as “knockoffs” by manufacturing compnaies which can afford to produce these items and sell them for significantly less than designer prices. This brings up a number of interesting philosophical questions:

Assuming the original and the imitation are produced to near-identical visual standards and the same quality of construction, it’s reasonable to say that they should be worth the same amount. Indistinguishable products should be worth the same, right? If you don’t know which of the two products is the original (designer) invention, it’s hard to argue against this.

Of course, once a product is revealed as an original or a knockoff, our perception of its value changes instantly. This means we, as a society, must assign some value to the creative effort required to produce a piece of fashion/art/music, separate from the actually aesthetic value of the product itself. This is a surprising bit of altruism, as someone else’s creative efforts give us no concrete benefits whatsoever. Morally, it seems fair to compensate someone based upon the difficulty of the task; and (creating + manufacturing) seems harder than replication.

One can argue about the relative values of the creative and manufacturing skills (in many cases, a difference of hundreds or thousands of dollars between original and knockoff pieces), but it is certainly reasonable for the designer’s creation to be more expensive.

Much of the animosity towards the expense of designer clothing is rooted in the perception that the creative effort exerted does not justify the difference in price, and the related view that the designer’s name and reputation (from past creative effort or business acumen) are being leveraged to unfairly increase price.

This manifests itself in a number of ways.

• When Prada releases an extremely simple/boring bag, it may be perceived as having low creative value, yet still be priced very high. The logical conclusion is that the bag is being sold on “name value” which many people believe is unfair.
• Some garments, such as polo shirts, have little creative differentiation (mostly color/pattern selection and cut), yet are still sold by designers at very high price points. The belief is that the creative value is insufficient to justify the increased price.
• People see pieces from smaller design firms, or chain production companies with what they perceive to be equal creative and/or aesthetic value as designer pieces, and thus can not accept the significantly higher prices of goods they view as equally valuable (again, omitting the name value as many people do).

In general, it is a disagreement about the value/validity of either the aesthetic, creative or name value of a product which causes disillusionment about designer products. Imitation products have the same aesthetic value as designer ones, and will thus appeal to people who are less concerned about creative or name value. On the other hand, trend-followers place high stake in name value, and may have no problem paying for it, even if there is a dearth of aesthetic or creative value.

Understanding the relative influence of these three types of value is important in studying how people react to and interact with fashion change, and is something we should consider as we move on learning about fashion.

-III