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HOW MUCH DOES COOL COST?
Writing MIKKI JANOWER Editing RACHEL HELLMAN Photography BRIAN PLUST, FOUND ON ARE.NA
Style has long been defined by the trope of the luxuriant. In Hellenic Greece, certain togas were reserved for the wealthier classes; in the middle ages, certain colors were reserved for members of the nobility; today, certain limited-edition sneakers are reserved for those with the cash to pay resale prices. The virality and hypebeast culture have only served to underscore the common conception that a wardrobe is only as good as its monetary worth. As a localized issue, this manifests in the popularization of on-campus status symbols like Canada Goose coats (~$600+) and Nike Air Max 1s (~$70, but hundreds more for a limited edition pair); on a vast, social-media driven societal scale, we see the phenomenon in Off-White belts ($225), Gucci bags (commonly over $1,000) and Yeezy anything (you get the gist). Those uninterested in dropping huge sums on high fashion can find relative ‘bargains’ on sites like SSENSE, where ‘chic’ still sells for hundreds to thousands of dollars apiece. Alternately, shoppers can wait until word of sought-after pieces trickles down to fast-fashion conglomerates like Zara and Urban Inc, which effectively generate knockoffs for prices that seen cheap relative to the originals, although they often cost upwards of $150. Also common: the archetype of the eclectic collector, the clothes horse with too much integrity for big-name brands. This arbiter of taste found acetate earrings at a shoppe in Copenhagen and mens’ cropped corduroys at a vintage store “somewhere on the Lower East Side.” Inherent in the word ‘collector,’ however, is an understanding that quantity remains a factor. Moreover, the notion that quality remains elusive to those without money, leisure time or plane tickets continues to pervade our ethos. ‘Cool’ carries a hefty price tag in many arenas. The objects we use and the experiences we have allow us to level up, particularly when we’ve mastered the subtle art of the Instagram flex. In fashion, however, cost has always been a particularly inhibitive factor. Or hasn’t it? The obvious answer to this question is yes, it has. The accurate answer to this question is no, it hasn’t. In many cases aesthetics associated with steep costs sought to
imitate cheaper, chic-er, more groundbreaking originals (read our Commodifying Poverty article to learn about why this practice of romanticizing and upselling is, well, not great.) For every arbiter of taste who wields a wallet like a weapon, there’s another who digs cool out of an internal repository of attitude, body language and an understanding of color and form. And a third who knocks off the second and sells it to the rest of us. Go figure. What does this mean? It means that money can’t buy cool. Money can buy expensive things, but only taste can curate them (although taste does come at the high cost of a lifetime of curiosity and experimentation). Wearing Adidas won’t make you into Luka Sabbat: Luka Sabbat makes Adidas into something you wear. Does ‘cool’–that elusive holy grail of descriptors–really forgo the clearance rack? Just the opposite: ‘cool’ acts as an equalizer, giving those with taste the opportunity to dress better than those with money. In summation: How much does cool cost? N/A.
