It’s no secret that designer fashion is expensive. Names like Prada, Burberry, and Saint Laurent are synonymous with luxury and decadence. There has been much debate among fashion enthusiasts over whether it’s it’s worth spending big bucks on designer gear or if doing so is merely paying for the ego boost afforded by the garment’s label. The general consensus among people that aren’t plebs is that it’s okay for other people to spend their own money on whatever they want, since surprisingly enough them doing so doesn’t actually affect the rest of us.
But while there is plenty of discussion on whether or not consumers should pay the high prices on designer clothing, I have seen relatively little on whether the designers themselves should be charging what they are. Hero that I am, I have taken it upon myself to fill this obvious void in the internet’s catalog of pseudointellectual rambles.
Now, viewing designer fashion houses solely as capitalist businesses, the question posed is deeply uninteresting; who really cares whether Versace would make more profit if they reduced their prices a bit? Literally nobody. Except maybe Versace. Instead, I’m considering the impact of designer pricetags on fashion as an art form. (more…)
Throughout the history of fashion, there are countless instances of items of clothing whose use evolved far beyond what their creator envisioned. Take, for example, jeans. Jeans were originally created as a sturdy, hard-wearing pair of trousers to wear while doing properly intense manual labour and shit. These days, of course, jeans are ubiquitous casualwear, and let’s be honest, few of them are ideal for any kind of manual labour.
What is the perfect wardrobe? By nature of the question, the answer will vary drastically between different people. Personally, there are two things that I would require of my ideal wardrobe. The first, and most important, is that I truly love and enjoy every item in it. I don’t want to open my wardrobe and be confronted with a stack of shirts I don’t really like, getting in the way of the three that I actually wear; I don’t want to have that cardigan that I used to love but hardly wear anymore staring at me resentfully every time I open my drawer. Instead, I dream of a curated collection of just those items that truly give me joy to wear.
I think that among those who take an active interest in fashion, we have all at some early point in our development of that interest experienced the phase of being obsessed with investing in versatile basics and staple items; justifying buying more expensive items because they’ll last a lifetime, and they’re classics that’ll never go out of style! Of course, this inevitably leads to everyone curating the same wardrobe of “timeless classics” – a blue OCBD or three, chinos in various earth tones, a pair of raw denim jeans, and of course some versatile white sneakers.
For many, this is enough – they’re dressing better than the general population and can start paying more attention to the more important things in life, like talking to other people and going outside. But for the rest of us, boredom eventually sets in. We might be dressing “well”, but that isn’t enough – we want to express our, er, incredibly unique individual tastes through the way we dress; to develop a more personal style.
For a long time I was never much of a sneaker guy. I’d generally go for pair of of boat shoes, bucks, or boots, depending on the weather, as my go-to casual shoes – the only sneakers I owned were a pair of Converse that were used exclusively for picking up heavy things at the gym. But after seeing more and more sickstreetwearoutfits I decided shit was gonna have to change. I wanted some sneakers. Specifically, being just that next-level, I wanted some minimal white sneakers.