Luxury Jeans and Fiscal Irresponsibility

While contemporary designer denim is known for its deconstructed washes, high-quality fabrics, funky logos, and flattering cuts, it is also famously expensive, with jeans ranging from $150-$10,000. But, why are people paying so much for a fabric that used to be considered a complement to workmen’s Caterpillars and never ever as fodder for catwalks? For many, the answer is simple: they’re wicked cool, they fit oh-so-perfectly, and they’re unspeakably sexy. Indeed, didn’t Fergie warble: ‘they say they love my ass in Seven jeans, True Religion’? However, the growth of the designer denim industry gestures to a wider issue: the willingness of people to overspend on overpriced items, which one zealous observer has called an ‘epidemic of extravagance’.

Today, jeans are considered so staple that the average wardrobe has seven of them. Interestingly, the revival of fashion denim is widely considered to have begun with the founding in 2000 of the now famous California company, Seven For All Mankind. In spite of their current luxury status, jeans were designed in the 16^th-century as a specialised item for the Genoese navy, whose sailors required trousers that could be worn either wet or dry. The dye used to make the fabric came to be called ‘bleu de Gênes’, which is the etymological root for ‘jeans’. It would be over five hundred years before denim was to become ‘fashionable’, though, largely due to Jordache, founded in 1978.

Twenty years later, Gucci premiered its ‘genius jeans’, which were priced at US$3,134 each, gaining them a Guinness World Record for the world’s most expensive jeans. That was then. Today, Escada’s couture line jeans start at $8,000, but their masterpiece is a Swarovski crystal-studded $10,000 pair. The going-rate for popular designer jeans, though, such as Seven, True Religion, or Rock N’ Republic is in the $300 range.

Still, in the US, jeans that cost more than $100 make up only 1% of the $14 billion industry. Furthermore, it has become increasingly easier to find the popular brands online at much cheaper prices. It’s statistics like these at lead some analysts to conclude that the designer jeans market has peaked and is on its way down.

However, such predictions may be overlooking a central issue – people like paying a lot of money for things. People enjoy the signature label and shopping at Cours Mont-Royal or Holts. According to Robert H. Frank, author of Luxury Fever, ‘When you acquire high status [items], your serotonin level goes up. It feels good to have high status. It feels bad to have low status.’

Certainly, people have always spent outside their means to acquire high status goods, but this propensity has escalated in modern times. Whereas in the past people compared themselves with people who were close to their own financial situation, people now compare themselves with the top few percent. According to Juliet Schor, a Harvard University economist, this is because the lifestyles of the rich and famous have become so visible that they have come to be perceived as the norm. Indeed, what is believed to have jumpstarted the designer jeans ‘revolution’ of the 2000s is the product’s popularity among celebrities such as Jessica Simpson and Angelina Jolie.

What all this underscores is the fiscal irresponsibility of buyers, which really speaks of a lack of self-discipline. ‘You can’t always get what you want,’ says traditional wisdom. But, desperately seeking serotonin, we compete with those above us in an arduous race that has no end. If this is the case, then it is difficult to contend that the quest for luxury, including designer jeans, will decline any time soon: as long as we desire things, there will be things to sate those desires. Arguably, such behaviour is good for the economy: luxury fever, stoked by upwardly mobile aspirations, keeps capitalism thriving. However, indulgence in such behaviour keeps us at the margins of life, constantly scrambling for something beyond our reach and, at the same time, never satisfied with what we’ve achieved. This is, perhaps, the nature of the beast, but it’s not the nature of the intellectual being.

Love, Individually.

Doubtlessly, the advent of 14 February will find many minds turned to thoughts of romantic relationships. But, is this really a departure from the quotidian? Though V-day may see the increased propagation of chocolate delectables and horticultural offerings, romantic relationships occupy a central spot in everyday experience. That the popular consciousness is preoccupied with thoughts of relationships is evident not only from casual eavesdropping, but also from the plenitude of shows or songs that wax tirelessly about this seemingly most vital preoccupation.

Less prevalent, though, are more mystical notions of Love, with their appeals to a metaphysical union with an Ultimate Reality through which Subject is subsumed into Object – at which point there is no ‘Me’ and there is no ‘You’. Such negation of egocentricity is not a consideration for the modern mind, whose goal is the satisfaction of individual caprices. The Self is paramount, beyond it lies little.

This individualistic ethic is representative of the democratization of emotion which paralleled the rise of society’s democratization. Still, the prime place afforded to romantic relationships in today’s popular consciousness is indicative, perhaps, of a desire by individuals to ‘connect’ with something greater than their Selfs. Of course, in this post-industrialist, post-Enlightenment age, we would naturally be looking for links to ultimate principles. After all, the upshot of capitalism was individualism, while the removal of Religion from the public sphere witnessed a move away from the communitarian towards isolationism.

This is what McGill’s (not Liberia’s) Charles Taylor calls the malaise of modernity: ‘People no longer have a sense of higher purpose.… The dark side of individualism is a centring on the self, which both flattens and narrows our lives, makes them poorer in meaning, and less concerned with others or society.’ The rise of such solipsistic tendencies is attested by Robert Putnam’s seminal studies on the decline of private and public inter-human relationships in Western society.

What this sort of individualism speaks of is a society cut off from ultimate guiding principles. With Religion’s removal seemed to go its ethical upshot as well; the duties-based ethic of old is outmoded in the modern rights-based society. The very basic human sensibilities that are at the core of religious ethics seem to hold no candle to the importance of individual rights. When the touting of liberal values, such as human rights or free speech, seems to trump appeals to civic responsibility, what we have is extremist Liberalism. It was precisely to secure the public sphere from this sort of oppression from ideology that inspired Religion’s removal in the first place.

From whence, then, are we to inspire in ourselves the necessary recognition of humanity in each other in order to occasion the type of kind, just, and responsible society that was the spur of liberalism? Conceptualizations of the Other predicated on common humanity are the province of metaphysical understandings of Love, through which one comes to perceive the multiplicity of things as a reflection of the unicity of things. In perceiving the essential connectedness of things, one comes to appreciate humanity’s commonality, and thus, that to hurt one is to hurt oneself.

However, what seems to prevail in modern society is the individual’s reality and concerns. There is little space thus for the type of Love that forces one outside oneself. If, indeed, we are to create the type of society that is civil and responsible, and which safeguards sensibilities in addition to rights, then we must extend ourselves beyond ourselves and come to know one another on the basis of our common humanity, rather than what so often occurs, our common enmity.