The fashion industry is cashing in on the recession, and it amuses me.
Because we're all dead broke - costs are way up (food, electricity, mortgage payments (for those of us lucky enough to re-fix when the interest rates were the highest they've been for years and years), land rates, car registration costs, et cetera et cetera to infinity and beyond - even the blasted garden bag gets more expensive every time the paid in advance period rolls over) but incomes are being capped, frozen or lost altogether - the key phrase splashed in all directions in all the latest fashion glossies is 'Investment Pieces'. And, by fashion glossies, I'm referring to the likes of Vogue, FQ, that sort of thing - not so much the back end of the Woman's Weekly, or the Farmers catalogue currently spread across my front lawn. Just so you know.
Anyway. Hehe. 'Investment pieces'. Hehe.
It's important to note I'm not knocking the theory. The theory is good - buy less, buy well, spend more and have it for twenty years. Agreed, absolutely (well, by me at least - probably not the husband. The buy less bit certainly and the keep for 20 years bit absolutely, but not so much the spend more bit). I'm waving sparkly ribbons for the entire parade. Promise.
Apparently, the average woman utilises about 20% of her wardrobe (in one of my bored moments (really bored moments), I really should put that theory to the test and yank everything I own out and see what gets worn and what doesn't. Obviously, it'd also be best to do that when the husband isn't around) so one is being encouraged enthusiastically to pare back to that 20% and plow the other 80% of your budget into that 20%. Of course, to do that you'd have to start from scratch with your 20% which seems a bit pointless, especially in the midst of the dire world financial situation that no one can stop talking about and which is the inspiration behind the whole hoopla in the first place, but that's neither here nor there it seems.
Sooo, in case that's not making sense, at the risk of making even less (sense), say you have 100 items in your wardrobe that you spent $100 a pop on, giving you a shopping bill of $10,000 (oops), you're probably only wearing 20 of those items meaning you've got $8,000 of dust gathering future Trademe sales (really ooops). So, the grand plan is to spend our $10,000 on things that you'll get a whole lot more mileage out of, giving a forever-wardrobe that you can update just by adding a few pieces (*snort*) every season, thereby cutting the clutter, and cutting back long-term expenditure on crap.
Therefore, the mags are banging on about investment piece buying in theory to get you through the recession and into smart shopping habits and a beautiful wardrobe for forever, but possibly, just maybe, in actual fact to convince you that spending thousands and thousands of dollars on really frightening stuff is a sterling idea.
See, what I don't get, is why, in one magazine for example, there is a list of 895 must-haves. And that's just for winter. Huh. How is that less for a start? Yes, I know you can select part of the 895, but on a must-have scale of 1 to 10 I'd really much rather have scoured pages of things that I might actually want to own, that I could walk in, that can survive a hand wash, or better yet, a washing machine, that I wouldn't put a hole in as soon as I looked at it, that I wouldn't be embarrassed to leave the house in ... that sort of thing. I found one pair of boots, and since I already have an awesome pair of boots, that little search and covet mission was a bust. 895 must-have pieces, and 99% of them I'd class as most-definitely-must-not.
For example, it is infinitely debatable as to how something Trelise Cooper kicked out that is shaped startlingly like a housecoat my Nana used to have, and is covered in a print of massive great red raspberries and finished with an enormous black floppy bow at the neck, with a price tag of $695, could be considered investment shopping. Seriously. I wouldn't be seen once it it, dead even, let alone keep it for years and years (unless I'd gotten it for free, and it was being kept in the bottom of a drawer because I was too embarrassed to admit I owned it in order to sell it on). And when you've got something so ... ummm ... memorable? in your wardrobe, you can't exactly chuck it on every weekend now can you?
One mag's recommendation of a classic Karen Walker trench is slightly more on the money, but they fall flat on their faces over the $4,200 patent Gucci handbag with the 80's rock style 'Gucci' print across the front. Heavens above. Why on earth would you do it? Yes, yes, it's as much a collector's fantasy purchase as the next handbag fright from a luxury fashion house, but when I think about investment piece shopping, I'm more leaning towards the goodbye-dear-cardy-that-has-been-a-beloved-part-of-my-life-for-ten-years-and-has-fallen-apart-at-the-seams projection than the hello-ugly-handbag-that-cost-me-a-fortune-and-which-has-been-hiding-at-the-back-of-my-wardrobe-for-thirty-years-I-wonder-how-much-I-could-get-at-auction-for-you way of thinking.
(Even as I say that, I'm actually getting cold pricklies down my neck thinking of that scene in The Devil Wears Prada when Meryl Streep's character nails Anne Hathaway's character to the wall over a blue jersey or cardigan or coat or something (all I remember is the blue), the significance of high fashion and how you're buying into it even when you think you're not. Which is not to say that I'm going to buy the Gucci handbag, just that I'm aware that it may inspire something that I will buy. Although I'll make an effort not to now, so I don't look like a twit. Rather, more of a twit. The fashions Gods will strike me down)
I'm really not going anywhere with this, am I? In fact, I'm not entirely sure I've come from somewhere let alone heading to a destination, but I've typed way too much to just delete it. This is the problem with having a kid - thought process go bye bye.
OK. I'm going to make a point.
Ready? Right. (Glad someone is)
I have poured through the pages of leading fashion bibles that are giving us very good advice on the investment wardrobe concept at a time when one should be giving greater consideration to how and where one spends a dollar on clothing (well, in theory. A serious lack of the green stuff is good motivation if you've never thought of it that way until now), but, I am amused because the guidance is steering me in the direction of 10-inch purple plastic heels, things covered in fringes, and clothing in colours that I can't imagine ever waking up to and thinking it was a good idea to put on, instead of a handbag that I'll never want to be parted from ever, or the best cardy ever in the history of the world.
There! Ha HA!
And now I think it's for the best if I stick to photo-heavy posts again for a while because this little foray into brain exercise hasn't worked out too well, all things considered.
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