I really love the Wall Street Journal. If you had told me ten years ago that I would ever write those words, I probably would have laughed at you. But it’s true. When Craig was in the middle of his MBA program he subscribed to it and I have been hooked ever since. My high school econ teacher would be so proud. (shout out to you Mr. Zehnder!) Anyways, last weekend I read an article in the review section about Art and it’s power to help us deal with life’s challenges. It was probably the best piece on art I’ve ever read, (including all those essays I read for humanities in college-blah.) mostly because it said what I’ve always wished someone would say, that art can have more of a purpose than just art for art’s sake. That it can do more than just enrich our lives, that it can have a therapeutic effect on them, that it can help us deal with everyday challenges, the same as literature and music. The entire article is really beautiful, and I highly suggest reading it if you have ten spare minutes (or even if you don’t). About half way through, he touches on a subject I would love to talk about today, because he articulated something that I’ve believed in, and been chasing for awhile now, and something that I think has been lost in our society, and it’s really quite a shame.
While discussing Adriaen van Utrecht’s “Banquet Still Life,” the author (Alain De Botton) touches on the value of consumerism. Consumerism has become such a nasty word in our society, “a stick with which to beat the modern world” as he puts it, and really, the way our society approaches it, it’s no wonder, when all we want is more, more, more. He sheds a different light on the subject, one that struck a cord within me. De Botton writes, “…consumerism doesn’t have to be stupid. At its best, the word refers to a delight in human ingenuity and an appreciation of the vast achievements of labor and trade.” He goes on to talk about the painting and what it took to create a feast during that time period. How people appreciated what it took to get a lobster on your table, the miracle of having lemons up north. How the pursuit of those things brought abundance and stability to the world. “Today,” he writes, ” we are so afraid of greed that we forget how honorable the love of material things can be. In the 17th century, homage was still paid to the nobility of commerce–a concept that boredom and guilt have made less accessible to us… A good response to consumerism might be not to sacrifice these pleasures and live without lobster and lemons but to appreciate what really goes into providing them. Our desire to have luxury cheaply is the real problem. If the route to your table were dignified and ethical at every stage, a lemon would cost more, of course. But maybe then we’d stop taking lemons for granted and find their zest all the keener.”
When I decided to start a clothing line a little over two years ago, the thing that I wanted the most was to make a really fantastic quality product, and I wanted to do it in a way that I felt proud of. I wanted to work with the best, and I wanted to pay them what they were worth. I knew I could never feel proud of a product I created if I knew it came at the expense of someone else. No person is less valuable than any other, and I knew that as a mother and a human being I would never be able to turn my head and profit off of someone else’s cheap labor. I believe in value and I don’t mind paying for it. Even if it means I have less. I understand exactly what goes into making a great garment (any one who knows how to sew, understands that no t-shirt is just a t-shirt.) Every piece you put on your body is the result of hours and hours of work and obsession. Of design, fit, fabric and physical labor. Every piece of clothing is truly a masterpiece, and kind of a miracle too. We’re so used fast fashion, cheap faddish clothes that are made–even meant to wear out quickly, that we forget what quality really is, and why there’s value in it. We’re so used to machines and cutters and automated processes, we forget about how far we’ve come, that at one time fabric was hand woven, and clothing sewn one stitch at a time. I knew, when I began this journey, that the only way I could do it, was if I found other people who felt the same way I did, that a well-made piece of clothing is a miracle and a masterpiece. And that every piece should earn it’s place in your closet and then hold it’s own for many years. This is why we work and design and manufacture everything right here in the USA, because to me quality always trumps quantity. To requote, De Botton, “If the road to your [closet] were dignified and ethical at every stage, [clothing] would cost more, of course. But then maybe we’d stop taking [the pieces we wear] for granted and find their [beauty] all the keener.” If that sound idealistic, so be it. I’d rather be an idealist.
Find the full WSJ article here.
Skirt: Corilynn. Button up: Old Navy. Top: JCrew Factory. Shoes: BCBGeneration (old. similar.). Necklace: J Crew(similar). Ring: TJMaxx. (similar.)