Cliché Tuesday: Nude is not a bloody colour

I never thought about this before I read through the comments of an article considering skin colours in The Hunger Games, but I wonder: in Africa, does the term 'nude', when used for clothes, refer to darker skin shades?

Isn't it strange that the fashion world uses the word 'nude' for a colour? Nude isn't a colour. It's a characteristic in itself completely unrelated to skin colour. (Although I do admit, I look totally nekkid when dressed in light beiges and creams and whatnot.) Not only is using nude as an adjective for clothes a paradox (it means 'no clothes', you fashion scallywags!), it is also - dare I say it? - kind of racist.

I'm not saying all fashion editors writing about nude being the new black or whatever are racists. But they are projecting a certain ideal by doing so. Let's turn it into mathematics.

Nude = white skin
Nude = fashionable
The aspirational skin colour of fashionable girls = ?

Just sayin'. I'm always the last one to find things out and I'm probably way behind on this, judging by the date of this excellent piece on the whole matter, but I still wanted to share my thoughts.

Integrity in the online universe

Happy intercalary everyone! (Apparently that's the official name of Leap Day. Who knew?) Long time no post. I don't have any excuses: haven't been especially busy, or even especially uninspired. Just seriously lazy. I have been called a slow gentle animal by some: don't know about the gentle, but the slow is definitely correct. I didn't feel like writing, and even read less blogs than usual. I did keep on following my personal favorites, though. There are some blogs I follow religiously: I never skip their posts and always look forward to updates. I think that gives me the right to consider myself a fanatic blog reader: I might not spend hours and hours reading what's out there, but I'm a very avid follower of a few carefully selected persona grata.

                                  Like these remarkable ladies.


The reason I keep reading these blogs is because a) I simply like them and b) I trust them. I trust their judgement; I trust they are highly intelligent people; I trust they are sincere. There are some blogs out there I like - the style, the visuals, sometimes the glamour - but have a hard time trusting. The reason? I feel like they're commercialising just a little too brashly.

Over the past years, pr departments have realised blogs have enormous marketing opportunity and acted accordingly. Bloggers took notice, too: IFB for instance responded with the IFB Fair Compensation Manifesto. Power to the people! Big bad brands should not be making money from bloggers' networks and expertise without giving something back. Right? Right. I don't think anyone would disagree. It's only fair bloggers should be paid for the added value they provide to brands.

However. Is that really what blogs should do? Provide added value to brands? Function as a cunning marketing tool? Everyone is free to disagree, but to me, something's gone awry. I read blogs because they are written by independent, freethinking people with a unique point of view. I don't read them to be bombarded with affiliate programs and commercials. I don't mind advertising in sidebars that much. They're usually subtle and non-obtrusive. I wish I could say I didn't mind plain old commercials disguised as a blog post, but I do. No matter how smart you write them, they're annoying and disappointing. They're still pretty innocent, though. At least you know what they're about. What I do mind is the sneaky kind of content that makes me wonder who exactly provided the subject.

Take for instance event reports. Tricky shizzle, this. I can't count how many times I saw blogs hyping pictures of hip and happenin' soirées, merrily posing with blogger friends and downing macaroons by the kg. I love a party as much as the next person, but to be honest, I'd think twice before I would go. These parties are courting you to write about them. It's free advertising, basically. I'm not one to turn down fizzy pink drinks and fancy patisserie - but honestly, I would feel like I'm being played. It's all good fun, but in the end, someone is just using you to attract attention.

Also, the the ubiquitous C/O-items. Short for "courtesy of", this means that a certain piece of clothing was a donation from the company producing it. I don't think there's a soul in the world who would object to getting things for free. I'd love to get free clothes on a regular basis, believe me. But these companies aren't handing out five loaves of bread and two fish. This isn't about philantropy - it's not even necessarily about them getting their name out there. It's about companies using a blogger's authenticity to brand themselves in a certain way.

Necklace: Médecine Douce (Available at Le Bon Marché or placedestendances.com / Top: American Vintage. Courtesy of my credit card.

By using blogs as a marketing tool, brands are not only gaining notoriety, they're sponging off the blogs' integrity and authenticity. And you know what? I don't even care that much about it. I truly don't. As long as you're conscious of how the brand is using you, and what you might gain from that. But it should be a matter of careful consideration. Because when you're taking money or other compensation from companies, you aren't just selling ad space. You're selling integrity. Your integrity. (By this I don't mean you'll lose your personal integrity. Just that you're hiring it out. That probably sounded a little whorish, didn't it? Oops.) Blogging is such a personal occupation that I find the mixing up of marketing and blogging difficult to digest. Where do you draw the line between representing yourself and representing others? Ultimately, the question boils down to this: are you blogging as a person - or as a highly personalised brand?

I realise I'm probably not voicing a popular concern, but I'd love to hear your thoughts on this!

Cliché Tuesday: Handmade clothing is crazy expensive

Do you think you can't afford handmade clothing? Think again! It's not as expensive as you might expect. Usually, when thinking of handmade clothing, the first thing that springs to mind is haute couture. Experienced French seamstresses meticulately beading hundreds of pearls onto exquisite but alas unaffordable dresses. Fountains of delicate fabric. Intricate woven patterns. Razor sharp cuts.

Inspiring. Captivating. Titillating. Quite out of reach. And yet surprisingly, garments made by hand (partly, at least), aren't necessarily a danger to your wallet. In fact, I'm willing to stake my left pinky toe - who needs those anyway? - on each and every one of you having something made by hand in your closets. Unless you're not into sequins, embroidery and that kind of stuff, in which case I'll keep my toe, thank you very much.

Fact of the matter is, handmade clothes are not out of reach to us. It is true that most of the clothes we buy nowadays are sewn using sewing machines. Machines, however, cannot solve everything: some embellishments are too delicate, or would require highly sophisticated machinery, to be sewn on automatically. It's hard to know, but at the prices we usually pay for our clothes, we can safely assume that the factories producing them do not have the means to purchase this technology. Chances are I'm sharing old news, but I still wanted to write about it. Because weirdly enough, I had never ever considered how the sequins in my clothes came to be where they are, and I certainly didn't expect them to be the product of handicraft.

These are all details of clothes of mine. To produce something like this requires craftship, determination and precision. I marvel at whoever did this. Especially considering she (or he) is very likely one of the 30 million informal home-workers employed by the fashion industry who work in poor conditions and, according to the Self Employed Women's Association, do not even come near to earning minimum wage. Which I'm guessing is pretty low to start with in a country like India...

Project Sustainable Wardrobe: Step 1

Disclaimer: this post claims no useful content whatsoever.

Is it okay to feel super productive just because I cleaned out my closet? I'm usually so messy I felt like patting my own shoulder last week. A pretty good indicator of my general laziness. It wasn't even one of those life-changing clean slate things, but still pretty essential to my whole 'buy less spend more'-philosophy.

The need for a good oversight

To shop smart, it really is necessary to know what you already own. Two reasons:

1. Avoid buying doubles: A few months ago, I had the feeling I didn't have a good basic black skirt, so I bought one at United Colors of Benetton. After rearranging, I noticed I already had about 4. Insert mental facepalm.
2. Figuring out whether something will suit your wardrobe: It may be just me, but when I'm in a fitting room trying something on, I always have a hard time imagining whether it will fit my wardrobe as well. I thought a clear visual of the clothes I own would provide some much needed support.

Processing, piling and parting

What I did: I sorted everything in four piles.

1. Clothes that no longer fit me and I wouldn't wear even if they did.
2. Pieces I no longer wear but still cherish.
3. Clothes I still wear, but rarely.
4. A selection of garments I wear most often.

The first pile was tiny, because I already threw away most of this category a few months ago. When I say tiny, I really do mean negligible, insignificant, infinitesimal: a skirt and a shirt. I gave them to my mother, who was glad to provide them with a new home.

The second pile found a home in an empty closet in a different room. (Empty as in: I crammed all the stuff inside into a different closet, which now looks like it could burst any minute. Oh well.)

The third pile was sorted and put in my own closet.

The fourth pile is now neatly displayed on an Ikea clothing rack in my room. (Did I mention my Ikea ban as well? They've fooled me one time too many with this rack: all the components were present - a feat in itself, considering we're talking about Ikea - but when I put the thing together, it was crooked. One of the wheels doesn't touch the ground. And no, not because of me, I'm a total boss in assembling Ikea furniture. One of the parts is simply bent in a wrong way. I didn't even bother trying to exchange - my initial flash of anger blossomed into a dull apathy, which suits me just fine. I simply decided not to buy anything Ikea again.)

Identifying gaps and excesses

While I was sorting everything, I got a good grasp of what the contents from my closet look like -what I do or do not need. My conclusions (this is of nu use whatsoever to you, but I find it helpful writing it all down):

Excesses:

1. Dresses
2. Perfumes (yes, I consider this a wardrobe staple)

Gaps:

1. Trousers: I now have two pairs of pants, one of which is starting to fall apart.
2. A few basic t-shirts and blouses
3. Shoes: I only have one pair of shoes appropriate for wintertime. I could really do with some boots and a good pair of flats. Also, no sandals.
4. A few (warm) sweaters
5. Some scarfs
6. A parka
7. Belts! I don't have any!
8. Accessories: I'd really like some hats, and a few statement necklaces to brighten up basic outfits.

So basically I have a great need of all things a little more practical. Yawn. I guess my frivolous side will just have to suck it up for a while.

Which fictional customer would you be?

I put my knowledge of Word flowcharts (pretty non-existent, I have to admit) to good use today and made one of those magazine style personality quizzes. Kind of fun to do, actually. Who doesn't love a good stereotype? So there you go: which one of these fictional character's style of dealing with shop personnel resembles yours?

(Disclaimer: this is in no way to be taken seriously.)
(Also, sorry for the crappy design, I'm condemned to paint and word for a while.)

Rebecca Bloomwood: Safe to say you're a tad impulsive, and maybe - if sometheing particularly covetable or discounted is involved - slightly hysteric. You're easily influenced and will buy everything as long as you like it. You don't really depend on shop assistants when it comes to advice and choosing, but you are friendly with them. They are after all the gateway to consumer bliss!

Vivian Ward: You're quite shy, and not very certain of your style. You're a kind customer, albeit a little needy. You tend to ask for help rather than seek things out on your own. You need to be drawn out a bit. Cruelty or indifference really get to you, even when you're obviously way cooler than the people around you. But don't worry, all of this can easily be solved with an affluent boyfriend.

Elle Woods: People's first impression of you can lean towards 'airhead', but you're certainly no fool. You're friendly, but determined. You know exactly what you want, and you're assertive enough to call out anyone trying to bullshit you, often leaving them dazed and confused. Snaps!

Emily Gilmore: Whoa. Emily Gilmore is assertiveness on speed. You know what you want alright, and anyone trying to cross you will be exposed to true biblical wrath. Demanding might not be a synonym for mean to you, but you run a high risk of coming across quite cruel. Maybe tone it down just a little bit, and try not to take lack of professionalism as a personal insult.

I'm totally a Rebecca. How 'bout you?

How we fall in love with clothes

In a way, buying clothes resembles starting a relationship. You might think that's crazy, but bear with me for a moment - I don't mean I make my girlfriends go ask a skirt if it will please go out with me, because, you know, I sort of like it and uhm, we might have fun, what do you think? Nor do I sit anxciously buy the phone waiting for a new coat to ring, wine and dine my shoes or do I have the habit of buying my wardrobe expensive engagement rings.

What I mean is this: shopping isn't a rational occupation - at least not for most of us. We're guided by feelings, desires, expectations and sometimes fears (how many of you don't buy certain types of clothing because you fear it will make you look fat, or certain colours because you think they wash you out?). We don't always buy the things we most need, we go for the things we want. We even make sacrifices for the clothes we most want. We watch what we eat to look pretty for them. We take care of them. We make good choices and bad. And if we're smart, we learn from our mistakes. Sounds a little like relationships, no? There are different manners in which we buy and deal with clothes, just as there are different ways to deal with men, or women, or whatever floats your boat:

The love at first sight
Once in a while you might come across a piece of clothing that strikes you as absolutely perfect. It's flawless, beautiful, flattering. It's exactly what you were looking for - or it's the piece of clothing that you didn't even know you oh so badly needed. It's the missing link in your wardrobe, even if ten seconds ago you didn't know about its existence. You might cave in and buy it immediately. If you decide to sleep over it, you will want to go back as soon as possible before anyone else snatches it up. In the meantime, you can't help imagining how you will combine it with your other treasures; how people will take notice; how it will transform or complete your style. You'll doodle images of yourself wearing it. You'll start looking it up in lookbooks and on the internet, just to verify if it really was that awesome and get convinced: yes, it was. In other words: you're style-stalking. You're trying to put yourself in the way of what you most desire. If your love is reciprocated (by which I mean: the design of the garment seems to suit your shape and size as well) and nothing gets in the way, you'll most likely cave sooner or later.

Sometimes we don't act on these flights of passion. We're too cautious or our object of affection is out of reach (too expensive, for instance). It then gets stored in our memory, surrounded by a bit of melancholy and a faint longing. The only cure for this is somehow seeing your beau again and realising it wasn't ideal after all. This happened to me quite a few times (with boys as well as clothing, to be honest): you see something back in sales or another person wearing it passes you by in the street and you can't help feeling a bit relieved and a bit mystified. (What the hell was I thinking?) I had my eye on a skirt from Mexx 5 years ago. I liked the colours (blue-ish shades) and the shape. It was bit floaty and romantic, but practical at the same time. I didn't buy it because I spent all my money on other things I needed more (I remember not having any pants anymore and buying jeans instead). Three months later I saw it on sale and noticed the fabric was already falling apart, even though nobody had worn it yet. A narrow escape!

This COS dress and I are still living our happily ever after!


The slow build-up
Some objects get more attractive over time. Maybe they're a little understated, maybe we just didn't pay much attention before. But suddenly we take notice. At first you're just a little sympathetic. You acknowledge something isn't butt-ugly. Afterwards you think it's actually nice. You may be a little surprised: why didn't I see this before?And the more you encounter the piece of clothing, the more alluring it gets. Until suddenly you realise: wait a minute, I want this. After which you go for it. The danger here is that some other woman might have taken notice before you and you are left empty handed. And maybe a little heart broken. Classic chick flick scenario. My Best Friend's Wedding, anyone?

After slowly falling in love with this Manoush dress, I managed to pick it up for 30$ - they usually retail for over 300$, so I was double lucky.


The marriage of convenience
This type of relationship isn't ubiquitous anymore - not in fashion, nor in love. How many people can honestly say they buy things only because they need them? How many women have one pair of good winter shoes, one solid winter coat, one quality purse - and not necessarily beautiful at that, but practical? (Now that I think of it, I only have one pair of winter shoes and one winter coat, but mainly because my favorite pair of boots fell apart and my second winter coat doesn't really fit anymore. Not exactly a conscious choice.) Buying items because you need them doesn't make your heart go pitter patter. They're rarely exciting. Serious, respectable, solid: yes. Delightful, enchanting, mellifluous? Not exactly. Still, this type of clothes is usually trustworthy and you might build a long-lasting quality relationship with them. If it didn't make me sound like some kind of fungus on a tree root, I would describe it as a symbiotic kind of love, based on reliability.

One word: winter anti-slip socks. Gift from my mother.

A winter sweater I bought out of pure necessity about 5 years ago. I still wear it. I mean, it sparkles!


The quickie
The quickie is pretty much the opposite of the marriage of convenience. Quickies are emergency fashion fixes. They're the items that are so hot one season they're bound to be outdated the next. You like a certain trend but don't want to invest in it? Here's your solution! Another example: apparently a lot of women regularly go outfit shopping. As in: they're going out friday night, feel like they have nothing to wear and buy a cheap but hip head-to-toe outfit. Sometimes you just feel like something new, right? And ah, fast fashion, how you come in handy. The downside to quickies in fashion (as opposed to a real quickie, may I hope, unless you're a psycho killer) is that after a while, they tend to clog the back of your closet. They can make it kind of hard to construct your own sense of style. Also, good as it may feel at the time, you might regret it afterwards.

A loyal friend tried to talk me out of this skirt, but it was 5 euros and I felt like I needed yet another skirt. I wore it once and now use it in the house on lazy days when I don't feel like wearing pants.

The 'I don't really love this, but hey, it's around'
Well, the title says it all. This kind of mindset never pays off, be it in love or in fashion. In fashion, it is often a sales related phenomenon. You might not be really into something, or it will not fit you as it should, but it's cheap(er) so you end up buying it anyway. And afterwards it will just be there, in your closet, taunting and frustrating you, because why go through the trouble if you don't end up wearing it? I have a newly instated rule: buy with conviction or don't buy at all!

I bought this Essentiel top in sale and never figured out what to do with it. I wore it once, to an African wedding where I was told to wear colours.


So, do you think I actually have a point or do I just have way too much time on my hands?

Labels vs. thrifting

My last post was about the scavenging possibilities at the flea market in Brussels. Our hunt that day made me ponder the (in)conveniences of thrifting. Thrifting might sometimes have its disadvantages (vintage smell being the most notorious one), but I want to talk about a huge benefit: the abscence of marketing influences.

Imagine you're in your favorite shopping street, mall, whatever. Do you enter every store? Or do some stores draw you in more than others? The mechanisms behind your choices are incredibly diverse and diffuse. Personal taste. Experience. Brand appeal. Price. Image. Target audience. Connotations. These are all things that determine whether you will or will not spend money (or even set foot) in a certain shop. I myself am very susceptible to branding and prejudice. It irritates me to no end, but I can't help it. Two years ago I spotted a black-and-white printed silk shirt Surface To Air in sale on ebay. I had seen the print on a dress before and absolutely adored it. Did I buy the shirt? Uhm, does Donatella Versace's hair colour regularly threaten to sweep out Italy's bleach supply? Duh.

Unless you thinks she gets this colour from using camomille extract?

I still paid about 100$, which I justified by telling myself the dollar was really low and the original price was way higher. Two weeks later I found myself in Zara holding a black-and-white printed silk shirt (I really do have a thing for black and white prints) with 50% off. I remember thinking 40 euros was still an awfully high price for what was, after all, 'just' a Zara shirt. Two shirts, two measures.

Can you guess which is which? And which got the most wears? (The creases aren't intentional. They're just me being lazy.)

This is one of the coolest things about thrifting: there's no double standards. You're not pestered with assumptions and considerations on the brands surrounding you. You're just looking at clothes in their own right. You have to wonder if the garment really does fit your style and if it's worth it's (puny) price. You can't rely on the source of the clothes to tell you whether it's cool or stylish. I'm ashamed to admit that, when it comes to clothing, I find the process pretty exhausting. It takes training and good styling skills to figure out what you do or do not want without the background and directions labels can provide. (More on that in this interesting post from Fashion Pearls on Wisdom.)

For jewelry, however, I find it liberating. For instance, the bracelet I bought two weeks ago. If I had spotted it at H&M, it's not entirely impossible I would have considered it tacky. Or maybe I would have liked it, but not bought it, because it's H&M and everyone will wear it so even if it is special, it won't be that special. If I would have seen it in an expensive jewelry store (which is very unlikely, because I don't think I ever even entered one of those), I might have thought it was a bit pretentious and not worth its money. Jewelry thrifting somehow makes it easier for me to spot the special pieces and like them for what they are, regardless of price. So while I'll rarely go thrifting for clothes because it wears me out, I'm definitely sold on thrifting jewelry. How about you?

5 Basic Tips for Shopping in Paris

Who doesn't love to shop in the city of light? There are few places in the world where you'll find such an enormous variety of clothes, ranging from really cheap to luxury only oil magnates can afford. The expectations can get pretty high, so I want to give you some tips to ensure a satisfying trip!

Picture courtesy of http://flybee.com

1. Come prepared

When I made plans to visit to Paris with a friend in february last year, I made a stores-to-visit list. It was the list of lists. If marriages between humans and lists were legal, I would have bought it a tux and dragged it to my city hall. I spent hours on the internet researching, scouring forums, scanning blogs. At two pages, it was a plethora of stores, ranging from very expensive to the cheapest of cheap. Vintage Chanel to flea markets: all on the list. I looked up locations on google maps, ordered the venues by arrondissement first and then by metro station.

Now I’m a former history student and a freak, and I like the process of researching. You may not want to take the effort I took, but it wouldn’t be a bad idea to consider what kind of shops you want to apply yourself to. Do you want to visit the grand department stores, like Printemps, Le Bon Marché or Galeries Lafayette? Do you want vintage couture? Vintage cheap? Flea markets? Typical French brands like Maje, Sandro, Manoush? (Rue Vieilles du Temple is definitely your place to be.) If you have friends in Paris or France, tickle them until they release all of their best kept addressess. (You could always ask politely or buy them some wine, but does that really beat making them laugh until they’re crying and purple in the face? Au revoir elegance!)

Keep in mind that you most likely won’t manage to see everything you want to see. I mean, Paris is Paris. First of all there’s a humungous amount of interesting shops, scattered throughout the city. Secondly, there are so many other things to do and see! With less then two days time, we managed to visit maybe 5 stores on the list?

2. Ignore your plans from time to time

Despite everything I wrote above, leave room for improvisiation. The best discoveries are those made by accident. When I was walking through Paris with my boyfriend last year, we passed by Maeght, a gallery with a great collection of modern art prints. I discovered they also sold some cute jewelry by Del Re, an artist they were featuring. Prices were a bit above budget, but still affordable at 60 euros for a beautiful silver pendant. I regretted not buying anything, but discovered they sell them online while writing this. I’m exerting some serious self-control not whipping out the credit card here!

3. Dealing with French Shop Assistants

The French are surrounded by myths and prejudice. Most of them ridiculous, obviously: frog legs are not consumed on a daily basis, not everyone is carrying around baguettes (sadly), you will not have to pee in a hole in the ground (unless you’re planning on sleeping over in a gas station at the country side) and French women don’t shave their armpits any less than you or I do. The cliché of the haughty French lady is very much alive in some of the Paris stores, though. You never know when you will encounter one. They tend to avoid independent stores, because those rely much heavier on customer service, but these are in no way a safe zone. Anyway, you’ll easily recognise them. Their noses are turned up so bad you could fit three thick 19th century moustaches between their nostrils and their tight-lipped mouth. The look of pure disdain in their eyes will make you wonder if you maybe grew a hunchback overnight. Don't be intimidated. It's not you, and it has happened to all of us. It's not even because your French sucks. Maybe you don't look poised enough, or she has x-ray vision and noticed your blouse is from - mon dieu! - H&M. Keep your inner calm and concentrate on the goods - if they're worth it. If not, just get the hell out of there.

Gargoyles cheering Quasimodo up after he was snubbed by a nasty shop assistant.

4. Sales

The beginning of January and July in France mean one thing: sales! As anywhere, you’ll find some real steals in Paris these times of the year. Last july I bought the cutest pair of Maud Frizoni ballerinas (under the watchful eye of A Haughty French Lady) for under a 100 euros. They’re great quality, and still look spic and span, even though I’m horrible at taking care of my shoes. One piece of advice: Sunday is still the day of rest in Paris, and one of the only main streets with shops wide open is the Rue Vieilles du Temple. Do not go there. Unless you want to see some real French shopping frenzy, that is. I’m not kidding. If I would want to witness a fashionista bitch fight, this is where I'd take my chances. If ever someone would wind up in the hospital with a stiletto heel in her head, they would trace it back to this place.

5. Hydrate

While Paris food prices are okay (even in highly frequented shopping streets like the Rue Vieilles du Temple), drinks will cost you. Buy a bottle of water or soda in advance or on the road, so you don’t have to spend chunks of your precious shopping budget on all too expensive bottled source water. If you want to have lunch, you can always ask for tap water. It’s free and it’s just as good, usually. Keep in mind, I’m not telling you to skip on a good glass of wine. (I wouldn’t even dare – savouring a glass of Chianti as we speak. Woop!) Invade the Paris terrasses by all means. Just make sure the experience is worth the price. You don’t want to spend 5 euros on a coke when two more euros will buy you a glass of decent wine. If you're real lucky, you might just end up being scaffolded by John Galliano!

Picture courtesy of Solli's Lifestyle Blog

Got more? I'll be happy to hear them!

F21 in Brussels: mixed feelings

I was strutting around town with a bright yellow plastic bag today. Took it to see some nice places, too – it even got to visit the Flemish parliament with me. I needed something to hold my books, papers and most important of all: my flashy pink lego lunch box.


One needs to gear up to watch democracy in action, obviously. There’s no shame in the lunch box – it was a birthday present and got me some very envious reactions from my female colleagues – but I was a little embarassed to show up there with this particular bag. Not just because I don't like looking like a crazy bag lady. It just happened that I grabbed the bag closest to me when I had to leave, and accidentally took a bag of a brand I’m not particularly keen on being linked with. You may or may not have guessed by now I’m talking about Forever 21.

Two Forever 21-shops recently opened up in Brussels and Antwerp. A lot of people were excited about it. I get the allure, especially for young and penniless fashionista’s. Who wouldn’t love a brand that makes clothes based on the best designer trends and sells them at a highly affordable rate? They’re quick too, because the collection is updated every few weeks.

I'd heard some pretty bad stuff about the company, though. Tales of bad working circumstances. Copyright infringements. They don’t just reference the big fashion houses. They make very close copies, and not just from the likes of Chanel and Prada, but from up-and-coming designers too. Over the last few years, they were sued over 50 times.

I was a little wary of the new store before the doors even opened. Still, I decided to join my little sister and go take a look. After all, I buy and consume things with a shady background all the time. I try to avoid it, but when the choice is between what’s right for the world (do I sound like I’m wearing goat wool socks in sandals right now or what?) and what I want, I usually choose for the latter. Don’t we all? I’ll feel a bit guilty about it, but comfort myself with the thought that ‘at least I’m conscious of the problem’. So I’m a hypocrite, but at least I know I’m a hypocrite. Which doesn’t make any sense whatsoever, but still, it hushes up my conscience. Maybe I should get a cricket.


Do you think Pinocchio would shop at F21?

I won’t expand on my exact impressions when entering the store. Suffice it to say that nothing there could have enticed me to think about buying something. Too big, too chaotic (everything’s neat, but it’s a cacaphony of styles), uncomfortable looking fabric (I hate the feel of cheap chiffon, it scratches and feels suffocating). It didn’t speak to me at all. I mean, how cheap is a store that won’t even iron its clothing before selling it?

I’m glad I was spared the dilemma. Maybe someday I’ll bump into something F21 that I do like, and I honestly don’t know if I would buy it or not. After all, I buy H&M, even though I’m pretty sure their clothes aren’t made under the best circumstances. (Neither are luxury brand-clothes, by the way.) But at least they try to keep up appearances. They do charity work. They don’t try to convert employees. I have to admit it irked me to see a lot of Belgian bloggers raving about the new F21 shops, and covering the opening events. I might shop in dubious stores, but I wouldn't feel good about actively promoting them.

What about you? Do you sometimes feel guilty while or after shopping? Do you factor in ethics in some or other way?

Salesperson Prototypes from Hell

I spent a lot of time on the subway today and instead of working on some job-related tasks or thinking about serious things like the state of the world, I was wondering what the worst traits are in shop assistants. These are the five things I came up with: too clingy, arrogant, ignores you, overly social and incompetent. I made a matrix out of them, describing what the resulting behavior of their combination might be. A sort of mini sociological study. I realise this might be offensive to both shop assistants all over the world and sociologists, but hey, I was bored. Click to see full size!



Do you always get treated well? Are you sometimes put off by bad personnel? Or do you just provoke them a bit for kicks?

The expanding industry of outlet malls

Everyone who's the least bit cost-conscious, likes to indulge in sales, vintage shops, or shopping in outlets once in a while. Sometimes it's not even about the cost, it's more about the thrill of scoring a cheap but great piece of clothing. When you buy a 500$ dress at 50% off, you actually feel as if you saved 250$, even though you spent that exact same amount on a dress that, after you cut the price tags, might suddenly not seem that alluring at all. We all have something in our closets that was 70% off, so you couldn't possibly not buy it, even though you never wore it afterwards. I don't know why we react so greedingly to reduced prices, but I'm sure the evolutionary psychology has some sort of bogus explanation for it. Like when us girls used to go berry picking and another tribe approached us and told us that if we were to trade our berries for their mushrooms they'd throw in a free fur vest, then we'd go absolutely NUTS. Maybe I just really dislike evolutionary psychology.

Now that outlet malls and villages are popping up everywhere, it doesn't seem such a bad idea to put some thought in them. One of my dearest friends took me to Maasmechelen Village in the spring, as a birthday present. We had a great time and I found some cute things, but I wasn't overwhelmed like I thought I would be. She recently told me that she'd watched a documentary on outlet malls, and apparantly, the stock there doesn't consist of leftovers and overstock anymore. Most of the time they weren't made for regular retailing at all. They're fabricated especially for these outlets, using inferior materials and a different construction. Hence the lower price. This shocked me a little, but when it comes to fashion and marketing, I'm prepared to believe anything nowadays. To top it off, these places are designed to lure you into buying something. For instance, they're never near a big city. When you ask why, the response is that they don't want to create competition for the regular stores. Sounds logical, right? Except this creates a different effect: because people have to travel a while to get there (and thus invest time and money in transportation), it would feel like a futile trip if they didn't buy anything. So the costumers are more likely to spend money on stuff they don't really want. All is fair in fashion and war, I guess?

According to my research, you should take a close look at the tags if you want to whether you're buyin something that was designed for outlets or not. An even better way of finding out what quality the clothes are is bringing someone who knows something about sewing and textiles. My sister is a fashion technology student - I know who I'm bringing to my next trip!



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Top 5 annoyances while shopping

5. Size selection

I'm a pretty low maintenance shopper. I like to go into a store, browse a bit, maybe try out a few pieces, decide whether I want any of them, pay and leave. Quick and dirty. I'm not much of a talker usually, so I rarely pester (or even talk to) the personnel. (Hello thank you have a nice day goodbye excepted of course) Which is why I really hate it when they only hang some samples in the store and not the actual clothes, so you have to ask for the right size. What's really annoying is that it's always the tiniest size known to human kind. It's probably pretty handy if you're petite, but I'm sure it kills girls with low self esteem. If there's a few sizes on the racks, it can still be a bit tricky, because you don't really know for sure how large they go, and you might be embarrassed asking. In any case, the following scenario is a real shopping turn-off:

'Uhm, excuse me miss, do you have this in size x?'
'We might, I'm not sure. Let me go and check!'
...

In case of a negative answer, the girl will usually appear after a while with a look in her eyes that might say
a) Just a simple 'oops, no'
b) I'm skinny and fit in all the sample sizes and I genuinely pity you and your thighs
c) Looks like another fatso beat you to it! OMG IS THAT A SNICKERS IN YOUR PURSE?

4. Messiness

Like I said, low maintenance. I don't mind if a sweater isn't all that neatly folded because a previous costumer ruffled it. However, sales at Zara REALLY freak me out, and not because of the great deals. Last january, I couldn'teven muster up the courage to step into the store. What's with those enormous piles of clothing? How do they come to exist? Do they just leave them there at the end of the day? I've never not seen them during sales. I have to admit, it can hold an adventurous charm. But I fear that one day I'll stick my arm into af them, trying to find that cool shirt in my size, and grab the arm of a cadaver or something. Scary.

Also, I don't expect to be able to eat off the floor, but huge dustballs in the dressing rooms, that's pushing it. This usually happens in stores where they don't even provide you with a stool, so you have to come up with crazy manoevres if you don't want to put your purse on the floor. I once tried to hold it with my teeth while fitting a dress. Not. A. Success.

3. Music

Ever ran out of a store because of the music? A frequent phenomenon when entering a store that targets teenagers. The clothes have to be pretty effing cool for me to put up with really crappy r&b. Otherwise it's bye-bye. This particular annoyance isn't just characteristic for cheapass brands, by the way. After spending some time in some or other cool designer store, you might start to get bugged by the spacy techno or minimalistic electro. Why not just pay somebody to shout 'we're sooo over melodic music' once in a while? YOU'RE COOL OKAY WE GET IT

2. Dressing rooms

One of the things I loved most about being a student is that you could go shop whenever. These days, I'm forced to join the multitude on Saturday. It's not that I don't like other people. I just don't like them crowding all the dressing rooms. Saturday is my favorite day of the week and I'd rather not waste it standing around like an idiot, wishing they'd provide some chairs at the very least, because god those heels are hurting and why has that lady been in there for ten minutes when all she had was a sweater to try on and why are they stubbornly refusing to open up the other dressing rooms when there's enough people in line to populate a small island? These are important questions, people. While there may be less people in the more expensive stores, they also provide some food for thought. Like, why do they insist on using curtains? Sure, they look chique, but showing your comfy panties to half the store because they won't close properly? Not so chique. It can be quite funny when you're on the outside, though. Two weeks ago I was descreetly watching a really artsy German guy trying on harem pants and watching them in the mirrors outside. When he wanted to go back in, he couldn't find the entrance and nearly exposed my half-naked friend. The shop assistant had to help him out. Put a smile on my face.

1. Arrogant Shop Assistants

By far my number one frustration. Don't you hate it when you walk into a store and are greeted with a nose up in the air, or not greeted at all? The habitat of the Arrogant Shop Assistant is usually the less budget friendly boutique, but they occasionally swarm out. So basically you can never be entirely sure you won't encounter them. Unsympathetic people always unsettle me a bit, but in shops, it really mistifies me. I don't get it. Why would you want to put people off buying your clothes? Do some brands expect their employees to behave this way? Or are they just bitter because of a critical daily snob overload? It took me a while to get over my fear of demeaning looks in chique stores, but even now I can still be intimidated by slightly angry looks and a set of pressed lips. I bought a pair of shoes in Paris last July and the lady behind the counter refused to hand me the bag. How rude is that? I was perfectly polite and hello, I just spent all this money to keep your pay checks coming. The least you could do is hand me the damn shoes and not make me crawl over the counter to get it. (They were fully worth it, though.)
If you find these kind of experiences unnerving and are even a bit traumatised, try bringing your mom! That's usually a good anti-ASA remedy. Too bad my mom's not really the shopping type, nor does she have the habit of waving around credit cards to make sure we get all the attention we deserve. Still, it's worth a try!