Fashion

(SoCI: I've almost run through my buffer of archives and haven't been writing more because I've been busy with the novel, vacations, and getting ready for college. I'll try and keep the M-Th schedule but I can't guarantee anything about the quality of the posts until I settle in at college.)

I absolutely love this essay because it's one of those things that summarizes what you believe before you can; where you read it and realize "oh yeah, that's exactly how I feel"; where you are grateful that someone else managed to put it so eloquently and embarrassed that nobody helped you understand your own views this way before you made an idiot of yourself at the lunch table trying to explain your feelings about your friend Meg's Vogue magazine. Or at least it's that way for me. (Definitely check out the essay, but I am not responsible for the education you will receive poking around the rest of the publication/website. You have been warned.)

I've always viewed fashion as the black sheep of the visual art family. You've got the stately old grandparents, classical sculpture and oil painting, with their kids, the mostly-genteel sketching, photography, and watercolor. The grandkids got a little crazy - modern art, digital art, and abstract sculpture, but they're still part of the family. But little cousin fashion got caught up in a bad crowd, hanging out with advertising and pornography. Got hooked on money - sure the rest of the family uses it recreationally, but fashion's existence soon became almost entirely about sales and profits - and soon she was selling herself to the masses, obscenely accessible. She tries to fit in with the family, twisting museum walls into runways, but they still quietly whisper "oh, fashion? We stopped hearing from her a while ago" when company like ballet or literature comes to visit.

Visual self-representation is a tricky concept. People want other people to get the right impression immediately, and they want to present themselves the way they want to be perceived. We're acutely aware of the effects our clothes have on other people. All of the times I've done something bold along the lines of flirting with a strange boy and giving him my number, I've been wearing something that made me feel powerful (a slinky black dress, a suit, etc.) But once you admit that you dress to be understood, you open Pandora's closet of contradictions. 

Those who wish to dress as corporate-molded, fashion conscious divas assert their individuality by making that choice. Those who wish to dress as nonconformists demonstrate adherence to certain standards by imposing preconceived limits on their self-expression. Those who wish to dress as intimidating or rebellious must fit the exact stereotype that their intended targets understand. This means that it is impossible to "dress like" anything other than oneself, and that by striving for a certain image, we invalidate it. It's the Schroedinger's cat of visual expression. When we use something with a seemingly inherent meaning to mean what we want it to say, we pervert the purity of its symbolism. 

One thing fashion is really good at is the co-opting of visual and other aspects of culture and the piggybacking off of meanings while ripping them out of context. The skull motif, once used for its raw, violent imagery, now shows up on pink children's accessories from Target or Claire's, produced by the giant capitalist conglomerates that the skull's original wearers hated. What does it say about us as a culture when the idea of "fighting the man" becomes alluring in and of itself, allowing "the man" to profit from our love for anything "subversive"? The enemy adapts to create a space for your "rebellion," and the rebels snuggle cozily into that space rather than finding a real place to attack.

Which all raises the question of whether or not visual self-expression counts as a fight at all. In the 1960's, when the hippies were fighting for true social reform and a total upheaval of typical American life, then fashion that rebelled had a significant purpose. Long hair and bright colors on boys who in the 1950's wore almost exclusively crew cuts and white t-shirts demonstrated to the older generations in charge that things were changing and that the youth were living differently. But today, when most adults barely bat an eye at tattoos, piercing, or dyed hair, what purpose do these serve? Has the time come when fashion as social revolt is useless? I would argue, yes, for the most part. We cannot scare the establishment with our looks any longer. Clothing isn't a social commentary anymore, only a self-commentary. 

Recommended Reading (someone asked where I get these links to share, and it's one of two places: I either consulted them to research the essay they're included with, or they're links I saved for interesting value and are relevant to the essay):

Some governments still threatened by fashion: Iran bans "Western" haircuts

"You can buy dangerous for $11.99 at K-Mart" - NY Times article on mainstreaming of skull imagery

"Blog quiz" lists and rates ten specific qualities of a non-conformist (wait...)

Hipster: The Dead End of Western Civilization - Adbusters article about "counterculture" fashions slipping towards absurdity