Co-opting Cultures for Consumer Goods



A post by Lisa Hix on Fresh Type, "Why the ‘Native’ Fashion Trend Is Pissing Off Real Native Americans," brings up some thought-provoking concerns about co-opting another culture to create art or design for general public consumers. The most recent example of  this was Urban Outfitters which headed into the 2011 holiday season with a "Navajo" line. The result was a lawsuit by the Navajo Nation. The basis of the suit has to do with trademark infringement. From NPR:

"What they did here was they went and sued them on the basis of the Indian Arts and Crafts Act, which says it's illegal to produce a product that says it's Indian made when it's not Indian made. So the Navajo Nation is saying that the products that the company is producing makes it appear that Navajos had some part in the production of these products and therefore that's against the law."

From the Fresh Type article:

"The problem," says Jessica R. Metcalfe, a Turtle Mountain Chippewa and doctor of Native American studies who teaches at Arizona State University and blogs about Native American fashion designers at Beyond Buckskin, "is that they’re putting it out there as 'This is the native,' or 'This is native-inspired.' So now you have non-native people representing us in mainstream culture. That, of course, gets tiring, because this has been happening since the good old days of the Hollywood Western in the 1930s and '40s, where they hired non-native actors and dressed them up essentially in redface. The issue now is not only who gets to represent Native Americans," Metcalfe says, "but also who gets to profit."

But, as the article continues to explain, this is hardly the first time a culture has been used in products by designers who are not a part of it, for consumers who are also not a part of it.

"For example, the pattern we think of as 'paisley'—now most commonly seen on ties—was once a holy symbol of the Zoroastrians in Persia. And throughout fashion history, designers have been swiping motifs from other cultures—from China and Japan in Victorian times, Egypt in the 1920s, and West Africa and Latin America in the '60s."

I found the story about the long intertwining of the Pendleton company with Native Americans to be fascinating. Also interesting was learning how young Native American fashion designers are using the Pendleton blanket:

"It’s really cool to see how they reinterpret the blanket," Metcalfe says. "For Sho Sho, she’s using very vibrant colors and the bold graphics of the Pendleton blanket and giving it this hip-hop vibe, by making these hoodies for men and women. She's made the wearing blanket something cool for Native Americans to wear again."

Wait a minute. Hip-hop vibe? That's cultural appropriation, too.

Complex issue, isn't it?

How to Get Dressed . . . Without Driving Yourself Crazy

From the Amazon.com listing for my 22-page downloadable article:

"Fashion challenged? So is Cynthia Friedlob, author of 'Sorting It Out: One Disorganized Woman Solves the Problem of Too Much Stuff.' In this article, she focuses her uncluttering and organizing spotlight on simplifying any woman's wardrobe. She speaks from baffled personal experience, having made the majority of her clothing decisions guided by the wisdom of Gilda Radner: 'I base most of my fashion taste on what doesn't itch.' But Cynthia lives in Los Angeles, a city that judges your character by your logos, so eventually she had to devise a fashion system so basic that it would be guaranteed to work, even for her. Find out what she learned about how to avoid clothes closet drama and how to get dressed with a minimum of fuss and bother!"

Yes, "How to Get Dressed Without Driving Yourself Crazy" is available once again, now exclusively for the Kindle. Only 99 cents! Click here for the link to purchase. Don't have a Kindle? Click on the link and scroll down the page a bit. On the right side of your screen you'll see free downloadable software that will let you read any Kindle book or article on your PC, iPhone, Blackberry, iPad or Android phone. It's a great deal that gives you access to a huge library of Kindle publications.

I hope you enjoy the article! Please feel free to leave comments or questions here on this post or on Amazon.com. Thank you!

How to Get Dressed Without Driving Yourself Crazy

To celebrate the fourth anniversary today of the publication of my book, Sorting It Out: One Disorganized Woman Solves the Problem of Too Much Stuff , I'm making my short article, "How to Get Dressed Without Driving Yourself Crazy," available for free! It's over twenty pages of advice from me, a fashion-challenged woman who just wants to get out of the house looking decent. If you curse your clothes closet, please download the PDF, read and enjoy.

A new book is underway, also devoted to the joys of living with less stuff. You'll be the first to know when it's finished. Meanwhile, expect a new blog post very soon about people who want to "sell everything and start over," currently the most popular Google search topic that leads to this blog. Interesting concept, isn't it?

For My Women Readers: A Few Words of Wisdom from France

Thanks to all of you who have purchased my new Amazon Short, "How to Get Dressed Without Driving Yourself Crazy." I was delighted to discover that it was ranked Number Four on the "Hot New Releases" list last week.

And thanks to a fashionable friend for sending me a short article from the November issue of Vogue magazine. Mark Holgate wrote "Why Less is More," a rather subversive point of view in a magazine whose remaining ten-thousand pages are devoted to convincing us that we need an entire new wardrobe every season.

The article features a "Paris-born, New York-based stylist" who has a limited wardrobe by current standards (okay, ten pairs of jeans is more than the average woman needs, but this woman is a stylist). When you read the inventory of her closet, the simplicity of her choices is striking. She happens to prefer navy blue and she relies on "natty blazers and skinny jeans and pretty flats," minimal jewelry ("two pendants and a ring that belonged to her mother"), a stack of sweaters and tees, and a couple of "dress-up" outfits. The whole thing sounds fabulous to me. No agonizing over what to wear, no angst about whether or not what she's wearing looks good on her. She can walk out the door feeling confident and just get on with her day.

I believe that the majority of women in our country, and probably most men, would declare that French women are exceptionally fashionable. "Freedom fries" aside, we have always envied this particular characteristic of the French, but we've had not a clue how to replicate their sense of style. A search on Amazon.com will reveal many books that explain the appeal and offer insight about how to achieve that seemingly effortless chic; I can personally recommend Entres Nous: A Woman's Guide to Finding Her Inner French Girl by Debra Ollivier, an American who married a Frenchman and was a long-time resident of France. In it you'll find not only a guide to assembling a wardrobe, but also an interesting glimpse into the cultural differences that have a significant impact on the the way a French woman relates to her world.

Regarding fashion, Ollivier explains, "For the French girl, clothes are a language, a personal vernacular. She doesn't dress to the trend, she dresses to her strengths and bends the trend (if it interests her) only to complement those strengths." She also often has to cope with only an armoire to store her clothes rather than a gigantic American-style walk-in closet.

The French have a useful perspective on clutter, too. Referring to author Marguerite Duras, Ollivier says, "To Duras there was charm and there was clutter. Charm represented the little details that reflected the character of the people who lived in a home. Clutter, on the other hand, is a helpless, hopeless, giving over to disorder . . . . The trick is to see the difference . . . . charm reflects your history, your affinities; clutter does not."

Obviously, not every French woman is possessed of the timeless style of Catherine Deneuve or gamine appeal of Audrey Tautou, and I suspect that there are more than a few cluttered homes lurking behind closed doors in France. But there is something we can learn from the basic French fashion philosophy: fewer, but well-chosen, high-quality wardrobe items and decor are what create style; quantity is essentially meaningless.

In fact, excessive quantity can destroy any sense of style. Too many choices in a wardrobe often result in errors and too much stuff in a home always results in chaotic disaster. We can't even hope to discover our personal style amidst the confusion of too much stuff.

So, how stylish are you feeling right now?

I'm thinking it might be a good idea to go through my closet one more time . . .

© 2007 Cynthia Friedlob

Juxtapositions: Fashion and Reality

I have fashion on my mind, probably because my new downloadable Amazon Short article entitled, "How to Get Dressed Without Driving Yourself Crazy," is now available on Amazon.com. Please take a look if you do battle with your wardrobe on a regular basis and would like a solution to the problem.

But the larger problems we face as a fashion-crazed society are plaguing me today.

Two articles in the "Image" section of last Sunday's LA Times are worth noting; I also find it worth noting that an entire section of the Times is called "Image." How much more blatant can a newspaper get without simply calling it an advertising supplement?

The first article of note in the "Image" section is "The Mannerist" column in which confused consumers ask questions about their tragic problems with "a burning social woe or a beef about bad behavior in Hollywood." Excluding the common social woes and bad behavior in show biz, such as screaming, insane bosses who throw things at you or, in extreme cases, hold a gun to your head (e.g., Phil Spector); and the awkward lapses that executives and stars have when they are publicly smashed out of their minds on alcohol, loaded with illegal substances or perhaps just carelessly preoccupied while simultaneously driving an automobile, with unfortunate results (search Google or read your favorite gossip rag), there seem to be other questions that warrant taking up space in the dominant newspaper of our major metropolitan area.

The question of the day for The Mannerist: how do you handle a friend who insists on "outing" your fake designer handbag? Dubbed by columnist Monica Corcoran a problem of "counterfetiquette," the ultimate answer is, "I wouldn't admit to a mock croc bogus Birkin unless someone outright asked me whether my purse was born in Paris or China. What concerns me more than your appetite for imitation accessories, however is your taste in acquaintances. If that supposed pal can't keep the copycat in the bag, she's what I call a make-believe friend."

Well, that's Ms. Corcoran's opinion, but let's get back to addressing the faux Birkin. The woman asking the question had paid two thousand dollars for her fake bag, "ordered from Asia." So not only is this poor soul so desperate to own a designer accessory that she'll buy a counterfeit version, she also paid a fortune for it!

It is a bag. The design may be appealing, the leather and manufacturing processes may be of the highest quality (at least on an original), but its function is to carry one's belongings. And yet, this desperate poor soul lives in Hollywood and perceives her choice as simply falling into line as best she can with the "requirement" to be fashionable. How refreshing it would be to find the rare someone who would resist this temptation.

"Dream on," you say. Sad, but true. The next generation of designer product consumers is being groomed, as described in another article by Monica Corcoran in which she interviews photographer Lauren Greenfield. Ms. Greenfield has made a short film entitled "kids + money," which premiered this week at AFI Fest. Once again, Ms. Corcoran, clever word creator, has come up with "kidsumerism" to describe the phenomenon of kids' growing awareness, at an ever earlier age, of designer cachet. However, Ms. Greenfield had some interesting observations, in addition to the obvious disturbing ones we might call to mind:

"One of the things I noticed in East L.A. and South Central [extremely low income parts of town] was the over-the-top consumerism in those areas. The strange thing is that this consumerism is what brings kids together too. One of the kids in the film, Matthew, says that he thinks it's a good thing. It's not about race anymore, he says. It's about money."

Am I the only person who thinks that "it's" almost always still about race, and now it's also about money? Am I the only person who doesn't consider this progress?

As for the pressure on parents, Ms. Greenfield affirms that it is significant. "But we live in a country where our president told us that shopping was our contribution to the world. There are very few of us who are not part of this culture of consumerism and we do pass it along to our kids."

That appalling recommendation to "shop to fight the terrorists" is still one of the most bizarre messages ever to come from the current administration. Surely somewhere others are thinking that something like, oh, education might be more helpful when it comes to figuring out the rest of the world, both friends and foes. Surely somewhere others are concerned that the consumer values that are being passed along to children are flat out wrong.

There are days when I am at a loss for any logical explanation for our society's extreme fascination with defining our worth, as a culture and as individuals, by our ability to purchase what's considered "fashionable." Today, readers, is one of those days!

Now, on to reality. Here are just a few items arbitrarily culled from elsewhere in the news this week: Pakistan's nuclear arsenal is causing great concern, while President Musharaff has declared emergency rule as Benazir Bhutto's supporters become more demonstrative; 58,000 gallons of heavy fuel spilled in San Francisco Bay; the Pope met with the king of Saudi Arabia; apparently Venezuela has become a hub of major crime syndicates; and The Homicide Report by Jill Leovy documents the murders of three young people (ages 14, 19 and 22) here in L.A. County.

No, of course we can't live our lives constantly focusing on the dramatic, even tragic events that unfold around us. An important part of life involves being joyful, grateful, and playful. Fashion can offer that to us. It can be fun (well, so I'm told), it can certainly be artistic, and reality dictates that it can immediately convey financial status to other people.

But does anyone really need to spend two grand to buy a knock-off handbag? I don't think so.

© 2007 Cynthia Friedlob

Teach Your Children Well

Graham Nash wrote the memorable song that lends its title to this essay. The lyrics are about the relationship between a parent and child. Released in 1970 on the Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young album, "Déjà vu," the song has reached another generation through its use on television in "The Office" (the U.S. version) and "Six Feet Under." The message is certainly just as relevant as it was almost forty years ago. So what exactly are we teaching the next generation?

Apparently, we're teaching them to be obsessed with fashion and luxury. In a September LA Times article, Monica Corcoran reported:

"Designer labels make up about 15.3% of purchases by 13- to 17-year-olds, according to a recent study by New York-based marketing research firm NPD Group. Five years ago, that figure hovered at 9.6%. And increasingly, luxury brands are catering to younger customers."

I found the article depressing. Yes, it focused on a small group of girls at a swanky private school that caters to the outrageously wealthy denizens of L.A., but consider this:

"In this month's Teen Vogue, glossy ads for oversized fall handbags by Gucci, Chloé, and Louis Vuitton can be found in the first 10 pages of the mini-magazine with a cult following among teenagers. . . .And that's just the ads. The women's media website Jezebel.com recently tallied the prices of the merchandise featured in the editorial content of the September issue of Teen Vogue to a total of $74,458. Per their research, Cosmopolitan -- not CosmoGirl, mind you -- rang in at just $27,636.64."

The pressure is on and it's not just the children of wealthy families that feel it. As James McNeal pointed out in an interesting Center for Media Literacy report that holds up quite well despite being dated 1987, there was a time, in the first half of the twentieth century, that children were not targeted as consumers. Those days are far, far behind us. Now the market for kids rakes in billions of dollars every year. Advertisers know just how to cash in, too.

UnderstandMedia.com explains the simple process of conditioning through advertising. Please note that the article acknowledges that the technique applies to selling to adults, too [the brackets are mine]:

"From a very young age, the media teaches children how to be consumers in society. The media tells children about everything from what types of cereal to eat to what type of clothes to wear. They do this by using a creative technique that doesn't involve selling the product itself.

"Commercials aimed towards children (and pretty much everyone else also) don't sell products at all. Instead, commercials aim to sell an emotional response in regards to their products.

"This affects children [and adults] deeply, as children [and adults] are taught to base their purchases on emotional desires rather than actual need. One such desire is the need to be liked. Children often want to buy products that make them seem cool in the eyes of their peers. If one child wears designer jeans, and those designer jeans are seen as the thing to wear to be cool, other kids will want to wear those same jeans."

It's pretty straightforward. Anyone who came of age by the time television was commonplace in the home has been conditioned to buy what advertisers tell them to buy. But the most significant difference in selling to children in the last decade or so is total media saturation in our society.

Not only are children exposed to massive amounts of advertising in all media, including print, they also see thousands of hours of television, film, video and, significantly, on-line images annually that sell indirectly, often with more dramatic results than the ads produce. Product placement is a burgeoning business because simply seeing something under the "right" circumstances can generate sales. Even a glimpse of a favorite celebrity with or wearing an item can catapult the product to the top of the "must have" list for teens. Notice I said "celebrity," because fame itself is the primary marker, and sometimes the sole marker of status.

Of course, what children see and learn in the home still has enormous impact on their values. But what are they seeing there? Primarily, adults whose lives are ruled by consumption, often excessive consumption, motivated by the desire to have the "right" image -- just like their kids.

We're a society that is so completely image-saturated that image has become more significant than substance. This phenomenon has overtaken us to such a ludicrous extent that even the awards we give to our media stars (images as "role models," being given awards ostensibly based on their talents) are now overshadowed by the fashion show that precedes any awards ceremony and answers the burning question of "who" the stars are wearing. Their wardrobes are then later dissected with greater critical analysis than most of the visual entertainment in which they display their alleged abilities.

"Teach your children well," Graham Nash wrote, ". . . and feed them on your dreams." That's what's happening right now, just about everywhere we look. Dreams of the "right" image: fashionable, trendy, expensive.

What's a kid gonna do?

© 2007 Cynthia Friedlob

It's Not Stuff, It's Art

Unless you're a survivalist or a Freegan, with little more than a backpack full of basics, or unless you're a person who shops exclusively at thrift and antique stores or Freecycle, eventually you're going to have to buy something new.

Being a thoughtful consumer, you'll want to maximize the value of your purchase, whether it's household furnishings or clothing or even something decorative or artistic -- yes, thoughtful consumers are not required to sacrifice to the point that they never buy anything simply because it's beautiful or it lifts their spirits. Having beautiful objects in a beautiful environment is a worthy goal for those of us fortunate enough not to worry about meeting our daily living needs.

But have you ever given thought to the fact that someone, or a team of someones, must design whatever it is that you buy? By focusing our attention on this part of the process of creating "stuff," we can become more aware and more sensitive when choosing what objects we want to have around us. If we choose wisely, we'll be content with what we have and not be tempted to buy simply for the sake of buying.

When shopping for anything, whether it's new or "new to you," there are only two criteria to consider: the design of the item must be both attractive and functional, otherwise it's of little use. ("Functional" includes those items that are spirit-lifting.) There are many clever ways to reuse and recycle older items, but I also find it interesting to learn more about designers who have made names for themselves by coming up with new items that fit those criteria.

Karim Rashid has designed products that I think are innovative and interesting, although many are pricey and rely on manufacturing from non-renewable resources. But I do find his overall design philosophy appealing:

"Every business should be completely concerned with beauty - it is after all a collective human need. I believe that we could be living in an entirely different world - one that is full of real contemporary inspiring objects, spaces, places, worlds, spirits and experiences. . . Design is about the betterment of our lives poetically, aesthetically, experientially, sensorially, and emotionally. My real desire is to see people live in the modus of our time, to participate in the contemporary world, and to release themselves from nostalgia, antiquated traditions, old rituals, kitsch and the meaningless. We should be conscious and attune with this world in this moment. If human nature is to live in the past - to change the world is to change human nature."

These are not the statements of someone who's just designing "stuff" -- and they're not the words of someone who mindlessly clings to things out of sentiment. Rashid wants us to live in the moment, with things surrounding us that enhance that moment.

Michael Graves, already well-known as an architect, became quite famous as a result of his designs of many household objects for Target. In an article in MetropolisMag.com, writer John Hockenberry states, "[Graves] has been an evangelist for beauty and humor in product design, as in his famous silver conical Alessi teapot as well as his buildings all over the world." By designing for Target, he's also demonstrated that good design should be affordable, too.

Just a few years ago, Graves suffered an illness that left him paralyzed from the waist down. He was so appalled by the ugliness and lack of functionality in his hospital environment, as well as in the designs of most products offered to people with disabilities, that now, Hockenberry reports, "Graves and his team are hard at work on a line of products that fuse one-dimensional medical utility with style, multifunctional elegance, and beauty. . . He says it all comes back to the choice of whether to make something beautiful or to tolerate something ugly. Allowing something to be simply ugly leads to permitting something that's not functional, that doesn't work right, that can be unsafe. . . 'Look around you: people can tolerate a lot of bad design,' he says with a twinkling smile to his staff, who have heard it all before. 'I can't tolerate any of it, of course. And I won't.'"

Graves' personal tragedy will result in wonderful improvements in design for medical devices and for people with disabilities. Perhaps he'll tackle the larger design issues of hospitals, which are usually some of the most ill-conceived, depressing environments one can encounter.

What happens when a fine artist designs? Andrea Zittel is one fascinating example. She creates everything from clothing to modular living units, "trying to combine design, craft and art." I became interested in her when I learned of her A-Z Uniform project which she worked on from 1991 to 2002. In her own words:

"Most of us own a favorite garment that always makes us look and feel good, but social etiquette dictates that we wear a different change of clothes every day. Sometimes this multitude of options can actually feel more restrictive than a self-imposed constant. Because I was tired of the tyranny of constant variety, I began a six-month uniform project. Starting in 1991 I would design and make one perfect dress for each season, and would then wear that dress every day for six months. Although utilitarian in principle, I often found that there was a strong element of fantasy or emotional need invested in each season's design. The experiment as a whole worked quite well, especially since dreaming up the next season's design helped relieve any monotony that might have occurred from wearing the same dress every day."

Because Zittel's an artist, her process moved on to creating uniforms from fabric torn from the bolt, then to making clothing by crocheting a single strand, and finally to using felt. Just thinking about her work can help us reconceptualize our relationship to our clothes: how many we need, how they're made, what purposes they serve when we wear them.

Performance artist Alex Martin also tackled the issue of fashion in her Brown Dress project. She made a brown dress which she wore each day for an entire year, from July 2005 to July 2006. Her reasoning:

"I made one small, personal attempt to confront consumerism by refusing to change my dress for 365 days. In this performance, I challenged myself to reject the economic system that pushes over-consumption, and the bill of goods that has been sold, especially to women, about what makes a person good, attractive and interesting. Clothes are a big part of this image, and the expectation in time, effort, and financial investment is immense."

Martin's current project:

". . . a wardrobe of my own devising -- recycled, re-mixed, re-fabbed . . . only things I made myself (clothes, jewelry, shoes, underwear, bags, everything) and my source materials were clothing items already in my possession - a completely closed loop, 100% recycled from my own closet."

Through this project, Martin offers another commentary on consumer culture, self-reliance, and creating things that are aesthetically pleasing as well as functional.

If we stop looking at our stuff as "stuff" and begin to look at each of our objects as the result of artistic expression, we'll have more appreciation for them. Then living with our carefully chosen possessions rather than just a bunch of stuff will mean paying attention to their beauty. Living in an environment that's not cluttered will be necessary to allow us to see the objects we've chosen and enjoy them. It's a shift in thinking that I believe would affect the way we look at everything in the world: seeking beauty and function, then being grateful when we find it.

Stuff is not just "stuff." Each thing has been designed, each thing is art, each thing is an opportunity to enhance our lives. Is your stuff good art or not so good art? Is it enhancing your life or detracting from it? Is your home an artistic expression of who you are or are you living in a Museum of Mess?

(c) 2007 Cynthia Friedlob

Connections: Fair Trade Jewelry

I went to a gathering at a friend's apartment this afternoon where an artisan was having a small showing of her hand-crafted jewelry, an artistic medium she had only recently discovered. It was beautiful, ornate beaded work that clearly showed the loving care put into its creation. The artisan was eager to talk about her process and delighted by the positive response she was receiving. At one point she commented to me that she had been surprised by much of the low quality jewelry that is being sold at very steep prices in many high-end stores and boutiques here in Los Angeles. Her work is certainly not inexpensive, and her profit will be cut at least by half should she decide to sell through retail outlets, but she plans to try to make her living doing something she loves. I find that admirable and bold. With hard work and good fortune, eventually she could find herself competing at the end of the jewelry spectrum reserved for exclusive "designer names."

But way down at the other end of the spectrum are the little trinkets that can be found at chain stores like Forever 21 and their jewelry-only branch, For Love 21. Referred to as "The Tiffany of Thrift" in today's LA Times article by Melissa Magsaysay, these shops sell style knock-offs ("homages?") that offer the budget-conscious shopper a chance to replicate the look of fashion mavens who sport the designs of Chanel, Hermes, and Cartier. For under ten bucks, you, too, can own the hottest, trendiest accessories, if only in their scaled-down versions.

How do they do it? How can so much jewelry be manufactured so cheaply for sale there and at so many other stores? I have absolutely no idea specifically where Forever 21, or any of the other large number of stores that sell cheap jewelry, get their products made or what the conditions of manufacture may be (legal disclaimer!), but I doubt that they come from women like the one I met earlier today at my friend's home. No, if I were a betting gal, I'd put my money on imports. And once we start talking about imports, we've entered the messy and complicated area of "fair trade."

According to a well-written explanation on Wikipedia, fair trade "is an organized social movement which promotes standards for international labour, environmentalism, and social policy in areas related to production of fair trade labelled and unlabelled goods. The movement focuses in particular on exports from developing countries to developed countries. Fair trade's strategic intent is to deliberately work with marginalised producers and workers in order to help them move from a position of vulnerability to security and economic self-sufficiency. It also aims at empowering them to become stakeholders in their own organizations and actively play a wider role in the global arena to achieve greater equity in international trade."

Fair trade promotes, among other things, fair prices for producers, gender equity, and decent working conditions. Most of us have heard about garment manufacturing in sweatshops in this country and around the world that resulted in cries of outrage over the shocking conditions that workers tolerated, but what about that cheap jewelry? What are the conditions workers endure who create it? Someone has to paste on those little crystals. Someone has to polish those less-than-gem-quality stones.

World of Good is a non-profit organization that actively promotes fair trade through various economic development projects. They offer internship opportunities and their website also offers a blog. One intern, Emily, recently posted her experience visiting a sweatshop in New Delhi. If you have the stomach to read it, it's quite an astounding report. The conditions in which these impoverished people, including young children and the elderly, create jewelry and decorative embellished items are appalling and, in fact, almost unbelievable.

In its article about child labor, Wikipedia surprisingly offers a defense of the practice, bolstered by the thoughts of the late economist, Milton Friedman, and research by UNICEF. Although naturally we're inclined to respond to the horror of the situation and may want to boycott companies that support such practices, the article points out that there are other considerations. "Poor families often rely on the labours of their children for survival, and sometimes it is their only source of income. . . . [A] UNICEF study found that 5,000 to 7,000 Nepalese children turned to prostitution after the United States banned that country's carpet exports in the 1990s. Also, after the Child Labor Deterrence Act was introduced in the US, an estimated 50,000 children were dismissed from their garment industry jobs in Bangladesh, leaving many to resort to jobs such as 'stone-crushing, street hustling, and prostitution,' -- all of them, according to a UNICEF study [1] more hazardous and exploitative than garment production.'"

The complexity of this issue demands thoughtful action, but what exactly should that action be? I can't even begin to fathom a solution for such an insidious, worldwide problem, but I can think of small choices to make as an individual who is concerned about it. You may wish to consider these choices, too: (1) support local artisans when it's feasible and affordable, or (2) purchase fair trade items when that's a better decision financially or aesthetically.

Of course, we've already discussed in other posts the fact that it's not possible to know the source of every item we buy, or avoid buying some items that come from less-than-impeccable manufacturers. Obviously, you can easily drive yourself crazy simply trying to be informed. But because so many of the items that are produced under completely unacceptable conditions are decorative rather than necessary for our survival, maybe sometimes it's simply better not to purchase anything at all. Instead, you could try being creative -- make your own jewelry and decorative things. Or just send that money to UNICEF or another organization that's trying to work on solutions to free all the world's citizens from such desperate poverty and intolerable working conditions.

(c) 2007 Cynthia Friedlob

Power to the People, Sort Of

Unlike this very long post, it was just a little two sentence article in the Consumer Briefs column of Sunday's LA Times, but it spoke volumes about the power of the consumer. Proctor & Gamble, gigantic marketer of just about every product imaginable having to do with the basic functioning of our homes, is going to start selling concentrated liquid laundry detergent in containers that are half the size of the current ones. This will "cut transportation and warehouse costs and reduce plastic that goes into landfill." Yes, huzzahs and cheers to them for their corporate cost-effective yet still noble effort, but the important thing is that they're doing it "to meet customer demand." Is it possible that concerns for the environment have reached some sort of critical mass with consumers and that has resulted in major corporations finally tipping over the edge into, dare I say it, green thinking? This is quite encouraging.

But while I'm delighted to know that consumers seem to have enough awareness and clout to influence positive change in a manufacturer the size of P&G, I'm less enthusiastic to learn about consumers' ability to influence a major retailer who sells women's shoes. Of course, it's a cliche to say that women love their shoes and have far too many pair in their closets. But we may have hit a new high in overindulgence reflected by the flagship store of Saks Fifth Avenue in New York City. In August, the store is opening an 8,500 square foot designer shoe salon that is so huge it will have its own ZIP code. Thanks to the clever plan of the Saks marketing executives, this eighth floor behemoth will even be named 10022-SHOE. It will feature, in addition to about a trillion shoes, "a VIP room for private shopping, an in-house cobbler and a chocolate cafe." (Footwear, obviously, is the only item of apparel a woman can shop for without guilt while simultaneously indulging in chocolate.)

One might conclude that there's a significant disconnect between (1) consumer sensitivity to the environment that results in an important change in product packaging and (2) consumer demand that causes the expansion of a shoe department to 150% its former size to accommodate the shopper who had custom glass shelves devoted to shoes in her home and her friend who estimated that she owned 500 pairs of shoes. But maybe there isn't a disconnect at all. Maybe, once again, we're all just responding to marketing and the cool factor.


I believe that people generally want to do "the right thing" and, at this particular moment in history, the right thing is to be aware of the impact we're having on the environment, then choose to do something, anything, that we believe will help. It's finally becoming cool to be "green." Not necessarily radical, No Impact Man, tree-hugging green, but green enough that we can demonstrate to ourselves and our friends that we're willing participants in the effort to help save the environment. (Of course, eventually messy coastal flooding from the continually rising sea levels may force all of us to reevaluate our level of commitment to change.)


How have we become aware of these environmental concerns? The media. But it's not just news stories that got our attention -- reporting the situation has been going on for ages; no, it's the opinion leaders, the people we think of as "cool" who have pushed awareness into the realm of the general public. If a famous person we admire is supporting an environmental cause, we're more inclined to pay attention, and most importantly, we're more inclined to act based on the endorsement of that famous person than if we're simply presented straight facts. That's the whole basis of marketing. That's why "causes" work so hard to get a famous spokesperson to represent them; they know we'll listen more attentively to the message and maybe even respond if we like the spokesperson.


In addition, we humans are social creatures, interacting daily in situations that require us to assess the hierarchy within the group of people and the circumstances around us. Who's someone to be reckoned with, who's someone easily dismissed, who's at about our level and therefore possibly a comfortable associate? And let's face it, our appearance is what plunks us right down on "our" spot on the hierarchy. No discussion is necessary about the legitimacy of making this kind of evaluation -- of course it's ridiculous to presume all the things we do based on appearances, but it's also a reality. So I was interested to note the comment from a Saks shopper who said, "Because New York women don't have cars, their shoes and their handbags tell you everything about them. . .It's sort of their way of communicating themselves without being behind the wheel of a car."

I live in LA where recognizing and acknowledging status is an art because looks can be deceiving due to our extremely casual lifestyle. This shopper's comment made perfect sense to me. While in Beverly Hills the other day with my significant other, The Writer, I said to him that it was amazing how much the area had changed. Now practically everybody looks like a tourist (no offense, dear tourists, but you know how you dress sometimes; and yes, I've been known to go out looking less than fabulous, too). A few locals were easy to spot, but for many, many people on the street, the only clue to their wealth (except, perhaps, for an expensive watch) was to see what kind of car they got into. A total schlub could step into a Bugatti because here in a city where cars are of primary importance, the Bugatti was enough to make the status statement. (As I mentioned in a previous post, many well-known show biz types are now making the Prius a cool green status symbol, but that's often because those particular types already have recognizable faces.)


But in New York, where there's a more formal culture, and with winter to contend with, too, a statement of a different kind is required: shoes and bags. And at some point, status awareness becomes a function of marketing, not quality. Otherwise, why would one high-quality designer be the darling of the fashion world one season, only to be overthrown by a totally different high-quality designer the next season? In fact, it's the changeability of the fashion trends that send the cool signal. The more status currently accorded the brand, the cooler the individual who wears or carries it. And if Vogue (or Dwell or Style.com or whatever source is your favorite arbiter of style) says this is the designer, this is the wardrobe style, this is the lifestyle, you can pretty much bet that defines the aspirations of its target consumer. The manifestations may vary based on geography (LA people are more focused on cars, New Yorkers on shoes), but we all respond to what's presented to us as cool. It's a phenomenon that's fascinating, understandable, and sometimes unfortunate.


So the apparent consumer disconnect may not be quite as disconnected as it seems. In both cases, the concern for the environment and what we feel we require to make a status statement are to a great extent simply a function of marketing. Yes, we're more aware now that our purchasing choices can make a difference for the future of the planet and we're willing to help where we can. This is the good news. But we're also trying to function in the real world and wanting to assert ourselves in a way that demonstrates to others who we are in the scheme of things. The problem is we're not yet aware that it's possible to do that with fewer than five hundred pairs of shoes.

(c) 2007 Cynthia Friedlob

Style, Advertising, and the Cool Factor

This week, I turn again to the Los Angeles Times, which generously continues to provide plenty of blog fodder with show-biz and style stories that range from the encouraging to the downright depressing. Here are a few examples.

On the positive front, Gina Piccalo reported that the "celebrity posse" is now passe. The excesses of celebrity have hardly been eliminated, so expensive hairdressers, chic stylists, personal trainers and private chefs are not quaking in their Uggs (okay, I'm really out of the loop; are those still considered fashionable?). However, Piccalo reports, "Big entourages are now widely seen as the sign of a neophyte, a has-been or a wannabe." Celebrities who require throngs of service-providers or scads of hangers-on are becoming the minority.

And what could be a greater demonstration of stuff-gone-mad in contemporary life than an assortment of human beings used essentially as accessories? Celebrity posse downsizing, or, even better, its elimination, is a great example of the cool factor in action: if it's no longer cool for celebrities to be perceived as high maintenance, then low or at least lower maintenance becomes desirable. Of course, it is all a matter of perception as Piccalo notes: "Authenticity (even if it's feigned) is a sure-fire way to stand apart from the decadence . . . chronicled by . . . the tabloids." But, it's the direction of the trend that's important and that trend is headed toward "less," not "more." Ostentation, in the form of stuff or people-as-stuff, is not cool.

Another interesting story came from Mimi Avins who wrote about the "anti-heirloom" wedding dress. Designers have been infiltrating the lower-priced market for all kinds of goods for quite a few years; think of Martha Stewart and Michael Graves. Now the market for formal bridal gowns, which are usually incredibly pricey, is host to more affordable creations by the likes of Isaac Mizrahi and Viktor & Rolf, no slouches in the designer pantheon. One J. Crew spokesman said of the type of bride who would be attracted to that company's lower-priced gowns, "She has a casual attitude and a pared-down style that comes from a level of sophistication." Translation: she's cool because less is more.

Most encouraging was a comment from 'Project Runway's' stylist, Tim Gunn (sorry, I don't watch the show, but based on the following quote, I do like the way this guy thinks). In an article by Booth Moore suggesting that buying the season's "It" handbag is not necessarily the smartest decision a fashion-conscious woman can make, Gunn says, "[T]here is a kind of social embarrassment to having an It bag. I would rather say, 'Gee, this is a $4,000 bag. Why don't I spend $600 instead and give the balance to charity?'" For those of us who have difficulty comprehending any reason to spend $4,000 on a bag, this kind of comment from a popular fashion stylist represents a huge leap forward and rates a mighty cheer. Thank you, Tim Gunn, for making it clear that it's simply not cool to spend that money so thoughtlessly.

On the downside, there was also a story by Kim Christensen about Deleese Williams, a woman who planned to be on the "Extreme Makeover" reality show (again, sorry, I don't watch the program). She was going to be given major facial plastic surgery and breast implants, but her participation was cancelled because the recovery process would take too long to fit the show's production schedule. According to a lawsuit filed by Ms. Williams, her sister had been "goaded by producers into videotaping 'hurtful and horrific statements' about [Ms. Williams'] appearance to heighten the drama." The lawsuit alleges that the sister ultimately committed suicide because of her grief over having said those things and then having the show back out of the planned surgery, thus causing emotional trauma to Ms. Williams.

While it's impossible for us to know the family dynamics at work in this situation, or the emotional health of any of the participants, what we do know is that a woman was so distressed about her physical appearance that she felt it was necessary to go through major, multiple surgeries to feel all right about herself. Accompanying the article was a fairly large photograph of one woman holding up a snapshot of another woman. At first glance, before reading the article, I thought perhaps the nearly-invisible woman in the little snapshot had been the one who felt she needed surgery and that something had gone wrong in the process, leaving her "emotionally scarred," as the headline read. Not until I'd read the photo caption carefully did I realize that the other woman was the potential focus of the make-over. I was stunned.

While it's unlikely anyone would call Ms. Williams fabulously attractive in this picture, she just looked to me like an average gal. She's thin (that quality is certainly in high demand), has long hair, maybe a mole on one side of her face. Hardly someone I'd peg as a candidate for an extreme physical makeover. But my opinion doesn't count; her feelings about herself were what led her to seek such drastic means of "improvement." In her mind, she needed to get some new "physical stuff," otherwise she'd never be happy. How many other women feel the same way? Too many.

Advertisers have us under their spells. We're constantly being told that we're lacking something and that's why our lives aren't the way we want them to be. The solution? Buy whatever they're selling, whether it's an expensive wedding gown, the season's It bag, or even a whole new face. Then you'll be surrounded by an adoring posse of admirers.

Oh, wait. That posse's no longer quite so cool, nor is the ultra-expensive wedding gown, nor the extravagant handbag. If we can just get to the point where the obsessive need for the ever-young, ever-flawless face and body isn't so cool either, we'll really be making progress.

I can dream, can't I?

(c) 2007 Cynthia Friedlob

Green is the New Black, Too

I've never been a big fan of guilt as a motivation to do the right thing. Obviously, sometimes it's helpful because most of us don't want to feel bad about ourselves and sorry for the troubles we've caused others, which is exactly how guilt makes us feel. Avoiding the possibility of feeling guilty can help moderate our personal choices.

But on a larger scale, it's often harder to use guilt as a motivator to change our behavior by telling us that the world at large will suffer somehow if we don't. In fact, it can be so difficult for most people to get anything other than an abstract handle on the suffering of the world that we pay much more attention to news about substance-abusing, emotionally damaged celebrities rather than "hard news" about war, poverty, and injustice. Partly I think this is because all that hard news can just seem overwhelmingly depressing, and partly it's because we may feel that one individual can't do much to change things anyway. Of course, I disagree with that position because every effort, no matter how small, can contribute to positive change -- otherwise why would I bother faithfully sending out the tiny voice of The Thoughtful Consumer amidst all the gazillions of blogs in the blogosphere?

I'm still convinced that the best motivator for large-scale change in people's behavior is making something cool. This is because our wonderful but flawed human race can be pretty darn shallow sometimes. Based on plenty of hard evidence proving without a doubt that's the case, advertisers regularly exploit our insecurities, our acquisitiveness, and our desire for status. They do a darn fine job of getting us to believe that we can make up for what we "lack" by simply purchasing whatever they're pushing, no matter how insignificant the product may seem to be. (Any fans of old television shows out there who appreciate the extremely witty "Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman?" Mary obsessed over the floor polish she used on her kitchen floor; if the floor wasn't shiny enough, somehow she'd failed as a woman. The show was a parody, but parody only works when it's based in truth. Let's 'fess up: we're all mostly suckers for advertising.)

I made reference in a previous blog post to the rather ironic pronouncement in the fall 2006 Vogue magazine that it was no longer cool to be ostentatious, and in a post on April 4 I cited Seth Godin's clever phrase, "Zero is the New Black," referring to low-impact living on the planet as the current height of chic. Well, I succumbed again and purchased the May issue of Vogue (hey, I can be shallow, too) only to discover that a few pages are devoted to living "green."

Now, "green" in Vogue terms is not exactly the same shade of green that most of us mere mortals probably have in mind when we use the term, but any shade of green is a step in the right direction. For example, the Kips Bay 2007 Decorator Show House (worth $25 million after a "celebrated green real estate developer" did her thing) will be painted with Aura, an eco-friendly paint by Benjamin Moore. For her up-coming summer projects, a well-known event planner will be using LED lighting that uses less electricity. Celebutantes and "ladies who lunch" were, in fact, recently lunching at the American Museum of Natural History while hearing a lecture entitled, "Living Green in the Face of Global Climate Change." Vanity Fair took out a full-page ad promoting "a new kind of eco-living" -- "presented by Lexus." Okay, I drive a Honda Civic, but I'm still intrigued.

The point is that when wealthy fashion style-setters and eager trend-followers start to leap onto the green bandwagon, the rest of the developed world isn't far behind them. This is good news for the planet and for its inhabitants.

Maybe your effort at going green will be recycling all those old clothes you no longer wear by donating them to the neighborhood thrift shop. Maybe you'll purge papers and magazines to recycle, too. Maybe your new, simplified, less stuff-laden life will result in a less stuff-laden brain (I can guarantee this). Then you can think clearly about the products you do need to buy and figure out if there are some simple choices you can make that will be friendlier to the environment.

Less stuff equals living lean. Eco-consciousness makes you green. Vogue, the bible of the fashion set, has declared that's what's cool. So what could possibly be cooler than you, darling, when you're a lean, green, fashionable machine?

(c) 2007 Cynthia Friedlob

Diamonds Are A Girl's Best Friend?

In 1953, Marilyn Monroe sang the Jules Styne and Leo Robin song, "Diamonds Are A Girl's Best Friend," in the popular movie, "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes," and the link between beautiful women and fabulous diamond jewelry was forever burned into our collective consciousness. Such is the power of film. But over fifty years later, we now know that there are a few things we need to consider about diamonds that most people weren't even remotely aware of in Marilyn's heyday. Recent news reminded me of those considerations.

On October 9th it was announced that a 4.2 ounce uncut diamond had been sold to the South African Diamond Corp. for $12 million. Called the Lesotho Promise, this 603 carat white gem ranks as the 15th largest diamond ever found. It will be cut into one large and several smaller stones, vastly increasing its value.

It is easy to figure out who will enjoy those spectacular finished diamonds: a few incredibly wealthy individuals. But I wondered who found that golf-ball-sized, uncut stone. Who works in that diamond mine? Who lives in Lesotho? What kind of lives do they lead?

When I heard the story of the diamond find on an NPR news segment, I didn't even have any idea where Lesotho was, other than somewhere in Africa. A quick perusal of available information provided the following facts:

Lesotho is a land-locked, mountainous enclave of South Africa. Slightly smaller than the state of Maryland, and formerly known as Basutoland, Lesotho gained its independence from the UK in 1966. It currently has political stability and has been governed by a parliamentary constitutional monarchy since 2002, although its previous history included military rule and violent protests. The population is a little over two million people. There is projected negative population growth, in part due to the AIDS epidemic that plagues much of the African continent. In Lesotho, 28.9% of the population has HIV or AIDS (2003 statistic). The economy is primarily based on subsistence agriculture and is currently being negatively affected by drought. The unemployment rate is 45% and 49% of the population live below the poverty line. Not a very pretty picture in Lesotho. The GDP is about $1.362 billion (2005), so that diamond find is significant -- the mine where the diamond was found is co-owned by a private company and the Lesotho government.

Many people have heard of "blood diamonds," now euphemistically renamed "conflict diamonds," in an effort to make them seem less horrific -- not unlike "global warming" being renamed "climate change." In December, the release of the motion picture, "Blood Diamonds" starring Leonardo DeCaprio, will undoubtedly inform many more. Once again, such is the power of film.

Blood diamonds are sold on the black market by rebel forces to raise money to fight legitimate governments, or to raise money for terrorists, including, perhaps, funding al Qaeda. The Kimberley Process was created in 2002 to prevent trade in blood diamonds through a voluntary documentation system that tracks the diamond from its discovery to its ultimate point of sale. The process, while still flawed, appears to have had some success in stemming the flow of blood diamonds into the commercial marketplace. Lesotho is a signatory nation and agrees to abide by the Kimberley Process, so if you are a fabulously wealthy person who ends up owning a diamond cut from the Lesotho Promise, you won't be buying a blood diamond.

Think this is more information than you need to know about diamonds? Sorry, but a thoughtful consumer must admit that in our complex, inter-related, global economy, every decision we make about purchasing an item connects us to that item's source. Shouldn't we at least make an effort to be aware of that source and the impact of our purchase?

If we do decide to purchase a diamond, we should know that it must be certified by the Kimberley Process. Making the process mandatory rather than voluntary would strengthen it -- can we help make that happen? We should remember that our diamond started as a rough hunk of rock in a mine in a distant country that may be suffering from an AIDs epidemic -- can we help? We need to be aware that the workers who struggled to get that rock out of the mine are most likely living in extreme poverty -- can we help? We need to understand that having the ability (the discretionary income) to purchase any beautiful piece of jewelry with even the tiniest, glittering, polished stone in it is an example of our incredible good fortune. With such good fortune, wouldn't it be apppropriate to ask a few questions about the source of that diamond, about the people who started the chain of events that allowed our jewelry to be created, and then ask ourselves, "Can we help?"

© 2006 Cynthia Friedlob

The Times They Are A'Changin'

Occasionally, I am terminally "girl." The publication of the fall Vogue magazine is one of those occasions. I buy the huge, heavy thing almost every year to see what is going on in the world of fashion, although it's a world I find fairly mystifying. As an artist, I appreciate the creative merits of certain designs and the talent of many designers. But the need to follow hemline lengths, the required presence or total banishment of shoulder pads, and whatever color has been dubbed the season's "new black" always eludes me, as my friends will readily attest. This fall issue, however, had a couple of items worth noting.

The first item that caught my eye was an advertisement for Keds with a headline that read, "Cool is less materialism, more material." The ad copy was about how it's no longer cool to want more of everything and how "the tide has turned" so that quality, not quantity is what's important. "More stuff, less space" is now passe. Imagine my surprise and delight! Also, it's very tricky to advertise something in a way that makes it so appealing that readers will want to buy it, while sending an anti-stuff message at the same time. I must admit, well done, Keds ad company. If I didn't already have my stock of Keds, I'd be tempted to buy more. And it is rather entertaining to be accidentally trendy!

Even more interesting to me was an article by William Norwich entitled "better to give," (all lower case, which is so much more modest) with a subtitle, "A warm-fuzzy mood is sweeping the blessed-by-fortune set: Ostentation is out; charity is in." How fabulous! Apparently rich people no longer want to flash their wealth for all to admire and are eager to share some of it, too. Warren Buffet's "breathtaking" (no kidding!) $31 billion dollar gift to the Gates Foundation is considered "the most elegant moment" of the year and the primary topic of conversation at tony dinner parties from the Hamptons to the south of France. Buffet has always been a down-home kind of guy, a Midwesterner with no desire to flaunt his enormous wealth. But what about all those "social x-rays," as Tom Wolfe called them, and the handsomely attired spouses and escorts that squire them to galas across the globe? This change in the winds must require a radical reconceptualizing shift for many of them.

The wisdom of age (honestly, you've got to get something to compensate for everything else that you lose) has convinced me that the best way to instigate social change is to make your agenda cool. If you want to make the point that acquiring more and more stuff is ultimately not a good idea for either people or the planet, don't keep harping on the evils of accumulating possessions; make it cool to have less. Make it cool to live with empty spaces here and there in your home. Make it cool to have a smaller wardrobe. Make it cool to buy a hybrid car.

Vogue is a magazine with ads for pricey items like $20,000 watches, and with a business model demanding that its readers be enticed to purchase new clothing and accessories on a regular basis. The article about charitable giving by the wealthy makes it clear these benefactors are not going to go bankrupt as a result of their generosity, or skip the haute couture shows in Paris. But I must give Vogue a cheer for presenting the idea that the new cool embraces the concept that less is more. In its own ostentatious way, Vogue ironically wants us to be thoughtful consumers!

© 2006 Cynthia Friedlob