Irwin
Courterly

Summer 1999

Volume IV Issue 2

In this issue:

• Fashion editorial
• What we wear
• Comparative Couture
• The Versace outlet store
• Thinking about clothes
• Hat Couture

Editors

Jennie Abbott
Robin Brooks

Submissions

The Irwin Courterly publishes original articles and illustrations. We edit them as appropriate. You retain copyright but grant every Irwin Courterly Productions publication royalty-free permission to reproduce the article or illustration in print or any other medium. Please send submissions at least one month in advance so that the editors can read, edit, and format the submission.

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Fashion (Editorial introduction to the theme of this issue)

While the Irwin Courterly would never even dream of competing with the big ones like Vogue and Mirabella, it turns out that our readers have lots to say about fashion, and about shopping for clothes, dressing for comfort, plus a noted shoe fetish! [See shoes op-ed in the January 1998 issue. -eds.]

Foreign correspondent Xip provides an international and cross-cultural analysis of fashion, giving hope to the ordinary people that style is what you make it.

Featured author Ward Wrobe’s look at fashion included a questionnaire sent to an arbitrarily diverse cross-section of Irwin Courterly readers. Without a statistician on hand, some of the survey results may have been subjectively evaluated, not to mention the consideration that those polled may not be accurate examples of the Irwin Courterly Imagined Community (see Subversion of Westfalia for background on the ICIC). A majority of respondents were women (although the survey was sent to a mixed group, as well-balanced as possible given the demographics of the IC readership), and generally women seemed more interested in the topic than men. Men may be affected by the social stereotypes that guys don’t care as much about clothes and their own appearance as women do - perhaps with the exception of some stereotypical San Francisco fashion mongers and glam drag queens. However, of course, there are a few exceptions to the generalizations.

One respondent to Mr. Wrobe’s call for fashion poll responses replied with such delightful prose that we have included her commentary in a separate article.

Taking a trip to the outlet stores can be an all-day affair. The IC recently sponsored five women with different tastes, styles, and desired new items of clothing to take a field-trip in search of fashion and pleasure. Not only were these five dressed differently to begin with, their lists of what to shop for varied from suits to bras to pants: from specific items such as a black see-through blouse and an orange (not melon orange, but pumpkin spice orange) shirt to vague ideas of a look or garment that might appear.

The best moments included when Janet went into the bookstore at the end of the day and found DaReal, and a book, and felt happy about what she’d gotten that day. Robin enjoyed the whole trip because she found everything she wanted, plus some surprises. She also enjoyed throwing the football in the parking lot. My best moment was getting to play dress up at the Versace outlet.

The worst moments were of indecision—should I get this shirt that I like but don’t need? What is need? Is it too expensive? Does it look good on me? Will it still fit in a few months? Check out these pictures of more bad moments in fashion: http://absurdgallery.com/model.shtml

By the end of 8 hours everyone was a little tired—and a little surprised that they could spend that much time shopping and still run out and not get to all the stores they would have liked to visit! Exhausted, they got another batch of food from In-and-Out Burger and hit the road back home. The trip wasn’t a waste; they got lots of entertainment trying on dresses no one bought and watching as others tried on clothes and inspired them to pick out things they had passed by on the rack, and they continue to enjoy the changes to each other’s wardrobe ever since.

Hope you enjoy hearing the theories and vignettes related to clothes, fashion, and shopping. As always, we invite your own stories, letters, and other responses, as well as your submissions for the next issue!

- Jennie

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What we wear

by Ward Wrobe, Staff Writer

Fashion. It’s almost as nebulous and indescribable as "fun," but it plays a part in how we all get dressed every day and how we stock our closets. According to the limited results of about 20 questionnaires, slightly more than half of the population thinks about clothes beyond simply putting them on.

What is fashion? "I think there are several different types of fashion, but my idea is whatever makes me feel good." Looking good and feeling good was the resounding refrain that respondents repeated when talking about fashion in their daily lives. Both looking and feeling good have internal and external elements; for some people looking good means making a favorable impression on others—for others it means liking what they see when they look in the mirror. Feeling good implies comfort in clothes both physically and emotionally. People often feel better when they believe that they look good, and also often look better when they feel good, so it’s often hard to tell which comes first: the fashion statement or the confidence of the person carrying it off.

"Fashion is what other people wear – I wear clothes," said Arby. While in the midst of discovering what fashion means to us, most people concentrate on the clothes they wear – and wear them to feel good and look good.

Fashion itself, the artistic, cultural, historical, and individual expressions clothing demonstrates, has always intrigued Roseanne, she wrote, and she’s not the only one. From watching the runways to "reading Vogue magazine and looking at the pictures" as Katherine defines fashion, to going to see Notting Hill just to see what Julia Roberts would be wearing, many of us follow haute couture. How we incorporate it into our daily lives, "tempering it into something livable, wearable," as Caitlin writes [see Thinking about clothes, below -eds.], reflects individual style, comfort level, taste, and budget. As for the world of high fashion, Deb, a social work graduate student at UCLA, said, "I think [they] hate women and are laughing all the way to the bank."

Getting clothes usually involves buying them, except for those whose families provide all they need as gifts and the great recycling tradition of hand-me-downs. Shopping preferences vary greatly: Boatsie refuses to go alone because it’s no fun, while Janet would rather go alone than with others – she says that "shopping should be a carefully planned strategic military offensive with clear directives. Not everyone understands that. You don't just storm the beaches of Normandy without goals and a plan for achieving those goals. " However, generally more people prefer to have company, either for feedback, moral support, or just to make shopping a social occasion. For all the stereotyped mall rats, shopping is a team sport that requires flanks of fans and fashion consultants to buy even colorless lip gloss.

Comfort is the top priority when looking for clothes. While several survey results also listed price and trends, comfort is paramount. In a society influenced by appearance, yet free to dress as we want, it makes sense that we should feel comfortable in our clothes. No longer forced into corsets or powdered wigs, we should embrace the articles of clothing that let us breathe, move easily, and do not hinder us (too much) from our work and play.

One striking thing about shopping is that several people shop mostly by catalog, and, increasingly, over the Internet. That makes for a much different experience from going to stores and trying clothes on one after another, requesting a different size, getting caught up in the excitement of playing dress-up – and maybe taking it home with you. Some people cringe at the "crass display of consumer capitalism" of malls and department stores, while others buy for the pure pleasure of acquiring things. And where do our readers shop? Thrift stores, J. Crew, the Gap, Ross, sale racks, outlet and department stores. As more consumers shop online, more stores market to those growing audiences. (See Readers’ favorite Internet shopping links below.)

It’s worth noting that people continue to make shopping excursions despite the common result of being tired and feeling poor or frustrated afterwards. On the other hand, some shoppers feel great, happy, exhilarated, and have a sense of accomplishment after successful shopping trips.

A significant majority has too many clothes but always wants more. Perhaps this is related to having too many clothes that they don’t wear or don’t like. A couple of people have just the right amount of clothes – a model for the rest of us.

Wardrobes large and small feature primarily black, blue, burgundy, purple, and green clothing. Three-quarters of those garments divide along seasonal lines. "I grew up in Michigan and I've tried to keep some idea of seasons," wrote Dorie, who wears lighter colors in the summer months. On the contrary, Janet said:

Since I grew up in a desert, I have a really hard time adjusting to the idea that winter exists. For instance, I haven't owned a jacket or coat in several years. I just keep thinking they aren't necessary, and they seem really expensive. Instead, I got married to someone who owns lots of jackets, but that doesn't always work out so well. I recently bought a hat, though, so I feel almost emotionally prepared to buy a coat on sale. Someday I may own gloves.

When faced with apparel whose tags demand dry-cleaning, some people follow command, though often, they say, not as frequently as they should. Janet never goes to the dry cleaner. She says "Dry cleaning is a sin and besides, it smells funny." Naturally, dry cleaning is not environmentally friendly, and sturdy cotton fabrics don’t require such special treatment. Brian says he’s never been to the dry cleaner, "but I have slowed down when walking by."

While trends influence many of us, we still wear plenty of old clothes from 10 years ago – either trends return or people ignore them. Some of the oldest (reported) items include t-shirts from 1971. In several cases people don’t keep and wear clothes much more than two years, but there seem to be many items that have made it from decade to decade. "I think my mother still has clothes from high school," said Jennie, who herself still wears clothes from junior high regularly, as well as from high school and college.

How do all these pack-rats decide when to get rid of something? Some still get yelled at by their mothers, others wait for clothes to get too many holes, get ruined, or not to fit anymore. The clothes they simply want to get rid of mostly go to the Salvation Army or Goodwill. "I always have a donation bag in my closet," Janet wrote; another said he puts unwanted items in "the free clothing box in People’s Park [Berkeley, CA]. I know the issues involved and I don’t care." Perhaps clinging to the nostalgia of an item of clothing, several readers try to give clothes to friends and relatives before giving them away. "I’d give a bag of rejects to my sister, who would go through it, pick out things she wanted, add more she didn’t, and pass it on to our mother!" The rags, though, get used just for that.

Choosing from among items in their variously-sized wardrobes, two-thirds of poll results show that people plan what to wear at least five minutes before getting dressed. Once dressed, most wear the same garments for both work and evening activities, though a significant number dress differently to go out in the evenings, especially to go out dancing.

Owning from 5 to 35 pair of shoes, it shouldn’t be hard for people to alternate which shoes they wear every day. One unanswered question remains: where do you keep them all? Most of the survey responses mentioned owning around 20 pair of shoes! Of those, the favorites include: clogs, boots, Dr. Martens, Fluevog "bowling shoes," black shiny shoes, black leather slip-on loafers, Bruno Magli black pumps, strappy black dress shoes, Vans, Clarks, sneakers, and sandals. Other than the favorites, probably much fewer than 20 pair of shoes get worn in an average month.

As with clothes in drawers or on hangers, the favorite shoes stay easily accessible while the outcasts migrate to the dusty depths of closets or under the bed. Have a heart! Bring out an old outfit, slip into a neglected pair of shoes… and if you try something on after 5 years and it is "truly ugly," get rid of it. Sell it back, give it away, turn it into rags or landfill.

 

Readers’ favorite Internet shopping links:

• www.gap.com
• www.llbean.com
• www.jcrew.com
• www.delias.com
• www.landsend.com
• www.victoriassecret.com

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What's your idea of fashion?
"Wrong person to ask. Before I became a boring social worker, my idea of fashion usually involved black clothing, boots (of any kind, but shit-kickers and steel toes are preferable), and anything torn. Now I have to look trustworthy, so I like long skirts (so I don't have to wear pantyhose which is some kind of cosmic joke on women) with fitted tops. Blasé enough for you? BTW, I think the world of high fashion hates women and is laughing all the way to the bank." –Deb T.

How does shopping make you feel?
"Exhausted and tense. Dull throbbing headache. Achy legs. Head spinning. Brain drain. I expend too much intellectual and emotional energy when shopping. There's the financial decision thing, the fashion decision thing (what really looks good? what is really useful?), then there's the self-image thing that all the clothing stores totally play into. I end up feeling like it's never enough; I go shopping and by the end of the day feel that I need a plenitude of items that I never knew existed before. But I still want to do it. That's the scary thing." –Krista

"Bring back taste. Enough of the engineered, worn out faded wrinkled look. Let’s strap some suits on and upscale this country. I am sick of looking at "slobs" who paid top dollar to look slovenly. It is ridiculous." – Aram

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Comparative Couture

by Taylor DeSoute

Living in the Bay Area, one can get spoiled by the almost complete lack of dress codes. There is almost never any reason to dress up. Indeed, last December the IC editorial staff was shocked to find that merely by pulling on a gaudy, glittery Christmas sweater even the rich consider themselves adequately clad for dining in one of Oakland’s finest restaurants. While appliqué candy canes and puffy-paint reindeer are actually intolerable ornaments in any social setting, it is still comforting to know that even impoverished graduate students with tiny wardrobes need not worry about being ostracized from important cultural events such as the opera or the ballet. A clean pair of pants and a button-up shirt will suffice almost anywhere in the East Bay. In San Francisco the addition of a jacket or scarf gussies up the preppy uniform well enough to please the Big City’s more sophisticated population.

This is not to say that Bay Area residents do not sometimes bring out their fancy dress. In line for the dance clubs there will inevitably be some young man in Gucci’s controversial new fluorescent pink pants and leather vest, girls in little black dresses, and a variety of youth in unexpectedly fashionable vestments. But these individuals will be scattered among an assortment of khakis, jean shorts, action slacks, and baby t’s. What is remarkable about the Bay Area compared to much of the rest of the world is that whatever the clientele is wearing, people will be admitted to the disco in the order in which they are waiting in line, not on the basis of their costume.

While the direction of causality is ambiguous, it is also noteworthy that higher-end clothing is less readily available in this region than elsewhere. The closest one can get to haute couture in Berkeley is The Gap (which we’re all boycotting, anyway, because of the company’s insistence upon clear-cutting the redwoods in Marin and its inability to confirm that it doesn’t use sweatshops). Otherwise, Berkeleyans must do their shopping second hand in Telegraph Avenue’s thrift stores or at the Bancroft Avenue boutique officially called Clobba, but better known by its colloquial moniker, "Slutsy."

It is not surprising, in light of the foregoing, that the by-definition underdressed members of the Irwin Courterly Imagined Community are not well-received in Paris, nor that they feel intimidated walking into the exclusive fashion houses in European capitals. Even "Uncle Brian’s" special visor did not make him invincible at Prada in the 16th arrondissment last week. Indeed, as much as he tried to hide his feelings, his utter fear caused him to trip and fall while walking in the door. A more timid Xip cowered outside the store for a few minutes before deciding that Brian needed her support to face the army of beautiful women in black suits who were following him from rack to rack and glowering at him as he fingered the expensive dresses while himself wearing fatigues and his "working class shirt." Despite the hype, though, the only comment the pair could make upon surviving their visit to Prada was that the brand’s designers missed many perfectly good opportunities to use reflective tape.

What, then, is the difference between high Euro-fashion and good ol’ American grunge? Even the grungy can identify the flaws in fashionable designs, and sometimes the fashionable are tricked into thinking that a grungster in a sophisticated venue must be a rock star and that her clothing should, therefore, be considered "hip" or "funky," instead of some more derogatory adjective. Xip made her way successfully through four whole poorly-dressed days in Soho London’s hottest nightspots simply by donning a woolen beret atop her cargo pants and shamrock t-shirt from Wal-Mart, whereas Nick-le-Grecque was at one point required to remove his Armani tie before entering "Disco Mondo." Perhaps these examples should point to the conclusion that, in fact, there is no tangible difference between good and bad dress and clothing cleavages cross-cut all geographic, cultural, and class divisions.

If Polly Tickle, scientist, were available for comment, she would surely inform us at this point that fashion is a social construction. Moreover, it is clear that one’s identity as fashionable or not has more to do with attitude than anything else. Well, then, the Spice Girls must be right when they say, "Don’t care how you look; it’s just how you feel. You’ve got to do it. You’ve got to make it real."

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The Versace outlet store

Playing "dress-up" at Versace is right up there with playing hide-and-seek in the Louvre.

Sadly there were no cameras on hand to commemorate the dramatic and eclectic costumes four brave souls dared to don at the Versace outlet store. Wearing jeans and sandals they might not have been so welcome at a "real" Versace store in some down-town urban area, but in Gilroy, CA, the garlic capital of the world, the outlet store staff were understanding.

The selection on the sale racks included a bright chartreuse leather jacket, a red, purple, and yellow suit with stripes and triangles clashing colors around a short skirt and single-button jacket. Looking at the more reasonable options, Krista picked out a cornflower-blue sundress that fit her perfectly. The only draw-back to wearing it to a summer tea party were the two evocative triangles cut out at the waist, more sexy than a blatantly bare midriff.

Getting Daryl into a Versace outfit required bribing her with the promise of a t-shirt for her troubles. Janet selected a periwinkle, sequined skirt and matching top, with streaks of yellow across it. Daryl, who only wore jeans and t-shirts to work after her two interviews in suits, refused to emerge from the dressing room to show off. Janet, Krista, and Jennifer forced their way in to see Daryl cowering in the corner behind the door in her striking combination. A moment later, with no photos for proof, Daryl ejected her admirers and demanded her new t-shirt – from a different store - as payment.

On the other hand, prancing around in an electric blue suede shirt with bright yellow loopy embroidered trim and matching bright yellow, stretchy, tight, nylon canvas jeans makes ordinary clothes seem plain—too matter-of-fact to call "fashion."

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Thinking about clothes

by Caitlin van Dusen

Do I think much about clothes? Oh, yes. Every morning, and sometimes the night before, I think about what I'm going to wear. Sometimes I even schedule my whole week in advance, so that I can plan for who I'm going to see, how hot it's going to be, whom I need to impress and whom I don't care about. I've done this since about seventh grade.

"Fashion" is something that is separate from me: I see fashion as sort of a dream from which people cull ideas that they can use in their everyday lives. I see it as the extreme, with real people tempering it into something wearable, livable. Therefore, I would never be "fashionable," but I might pick up on trends that fashion is setting. Even that isn't particularly important to me, but it is a powerful pull: when you see everyone wearing below-the-knee skirts (in a modified version of those presented by "fashion"), they start to look better than they might if only one person were wearing one. I recently read in a magazine, for example, that Rockport Walkers, those old-person-on-a-tour-bus shoes, were coming back into fashion and I thought: how hideous, I can't imagine those looking good on anyone. But then I saw this very svelte girl wearing them the other day (with an ankle-length skirt, I might add), and I still thought they were gross, but not quite as bad as I had thought.

I like to go shopping, and I much prefer to go alone. There is something about the trance it puts me into, walking around, that can't happen with others. I also don't like to have to take other people's opinions into account: to step out of a dressing room and twirl around and say: what do you think? I'd rather form my own opinion. I think the reason I like to go shopping, though, is that I like to acquire things. It really has little to do with the actual items I am acquiring--it is about getting and then having new things. Frequently, I buy things and then return them, or exchange them, just to keep up the thrill of acquisition.

When I was in grade school, my mother used to take my sister and me to the Stamford Town Center in Connecticut for tax-free back to school shopping. It was always a treat because they had GOOD stores there (Benetton, the Gap--what other kids wore) and it was an "event." Afterwards, she always bought us a Mrs. Fields cookie which came in a wax paper bag and the chips would melt on the inside of the bag and you could lick it with your finger. And I had bags and bags of clothes to sort through and  relish on the long car trip home.

I am still wearing some things from junior high school. However, I definitely tend to favor new purchases. Primarily, I look for apparel that flatters me and that isn’t too extreme. Comfort can't be that important to me, since I seem to have a lot of quite uncomfortable clothes. I am willing to sacrifice pretty much anything (except a lot of money) for at item I think looks good on me. Quality is more important to me than it used to be, and I suppose that encompasses durability. I don't really consider what clothes I already have, what it might go with. If it looks good, I buy it.

I used to shop almost exclusively though the J. Crew catalog, but now I think catalog shopping is a rip off. Now I go to the J. Crew store, and The Gap and Banana Republic and all those preppy places. Recently, however, I have been expanding into more risky terrain--shopping in SoHo, for example, or buying high-fashion brands at discount stores. I used to buy a lot of PayLess shoes, for example. Now I wouldn't be caught dead in them. I think my standards have risen since moving to the fashion capital. I also have to cite the influence of a couple of high-fashion boyfriends, who do almost all their shopping in SoHo and have begun to instill in me the importance of well-made clothes. No more Old Navy!

And I have to say, I really hate clothes that other people have worn before. I feel like then they already have someone else's presence imprinted in them. I never shop at thrift stores: I think of second-hand clothes as being "dirty." The only hand-me-downs I will wear are from my immediate family (mother, father, sister).

I prefer to wear the same thing all day, simply because changing clothes changes my mood, and once I've established a mood for the day, I don't like to alter it. UNLESS I feel like what I am wearing is negatively impacting my mood (making me feel unconfident, unattractive, powerless, etc.)--then I will usually do whatever I can to change my clothes, even if it means crossing the street in the middle of the workday to go to the Gap and buy a new sweater.

I like natural tones in general; I don't like bright colors. I have a lot of gray, white, brown, muted blue, tan. I do have one shocking red anorak that I like to wear to surprise people, and since I always get compliments on it, I often wonder if I shouldn't wear bright colors more often.

I really like to alter things myself to fit me. Sometimes things will be too long, too baggy or otherwise not quite as well-fitting as they might be, and I take to them unabashedly with needle and thread. I don't think I have ever had something professionally altered. If it is a really hopeless case, I would sooner give it away than pay so much to have it made perfect.

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Hat Couture

by Bob Oushka

a: "How do you like my Top-Hat?"
b: "I have searched the world for a woman with a Top-Hat as lovely as yours. Marry me!"
a: "I cannot marry you, on account of the love that I have for my Top-Hat."

- From a cartoon in the art zine, Bark

In many cultures, it is disrespectful or sacrilegious to wander around in public with a bare head. From the Iranian chador to the Slavic babushka to the Jewish yarmulke to the American baseball cap, head covering is not only common, but required apparel in certain contexts. For example, when more than a week has elapsed since one last washed her hair, one should certainly consider donning a kerchief to protect others from the slime. [Some people have enough hair to necessitate a ten-gallon hat on these days - eds.] Indeed, even the new-fangled butterfly clips that all the Kids are talking about these days are insufficient penance for a bad-hair-day, as special correspondent Xip learned on a recent trip to New York.

"It turns out that if you apply butterfly clips in front of a French person, she will almost certainly give you her hat," asserts Xip, who received an authentic French beret from a fellow subway passenger last April. What’s more, the donor did not ever reclaim her property before stepping off the train. Perhaps she felt some humanitarian urge to protect other patrons of public transport from the horrors of Xip’s butterfly clips. Fortunately, Xip looks good in the beret, and also finds that it keeps her warm on cold summer days in Berkeley.

Months later, Xip tracked down the owner of the hat and, in a rare demonstration of generosity, tried to give it back to her in time for autumn. However, the owner seemed so frightened of Xip’s hair that she refused the offer. Instead, Xip had to resort to mailing the kind donor a replacement hat - a fleecy jester hat, typical of California snowboard fashion. Upon opening the package, the Frenchwoman immediately wrote to Xip that she did not think she could wear the hat outside her Paris apartment, lest she shock her neighborhood’s other inhabitants.

This is not to say that Paris is a city unaccepting of non-traditional headgear. Uncle Brian experienced no negative comments from Parisians passers-by (other than one exclamation of "Quel character!" from an old woman who thought Brian was harassing her grandchild), even as he walked the streets in his special visor.

Indeed, the visor is a particularly useful kind of hat, although it does not fulfill the typical religious requirement of covering the hair itself. Dave Hoffman may be the local pioneer of the trend, as he used to wear a pink plastic visor around the political science department before leaving town for Central Asian adventures. Uncle Brian later made a visor by cutting the top off a slightly damaged baseball cap that he found at the laundromat. That particular specimen eventually lost its visor-integrity and had to be replaced. Of all Brian’s visors, the spiffy black and red one from the Union Bank of Switzerland (Luan Troxel’s former employer) was certainly the most stylish. However, it caused violence to the hair, which was the second major item to avoid on the European trip list. [The first item to avoid was dehydration - eds.] Consequently, it was replaced with a cheap Berkeley-pride cap, which Xip sewed so that it would not disintegrate like the Ur-visor.

The principle behind the visor is that it should shield the delicate skin of one’s face from the sun’s harming rays, while still allowing maximum freedom to one’s hair, which might in this manner grow tall and curly out of the top, enhancing one’s natural beauty. Visors tend to work better on people with hair of "medium" length (in Oakland Barber Mr. Lee’s calculation). People with shorter hair get no advantage from leaving it uncovered, and long-haired people tend to look a bit like Axel Rose when they wear visors.

The visor is also useless to people in cold climates. According to one hiker of the Appalachian Trail, "you lose 300% of your body heat through the top of your head." That’s a lot of heat! To avoid this humanitarian disaster, Eskimos and Siberians wear heavy fur shapkas over the top of their heads. One never sees people in visors within, or indeed anywhere close to, the Arctic Circle.

However it manifests itself, though, the hat (loosely defined) is an integral part of many wardrobes. Some people wear hats for religious or cultural reasons, others wear them to stay warm, and still others just need an article of clothing on which to display the name of their favorite college or team. People who don’t have hats might catch pneumonia or get a terrible sunburn on their nose. It is for all these reasons that the IC is happy to bring you this public-service announcement.

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