Slow and Steady

Words by Hannah Rossi Art by Nidhi Malpani

Our world is full of rushed jobs: Care is sacrificed for efficiency, detail for the sake of having a product to sell at all.

By now, I’m sure we’ve all felt this sort of shift in the experience of buying and owning clothing. Blame it on the pandemic, on TikTok, whatever; No matter your answer, it’s undeniably true that the speed with which the cycle of what is and isn’t “in” has changed considerably. And so has the supplier of these “in” products: Even Zara, mother to the oft-bemoaned fast fashion industry, is now dwarfed by the big, bad SEO-driven Shein, and the term “micro-trend” has become a staple in our collective vocabulary over the past two years.

As social media and consumer data collection drive this ever-accelerating trend cycle, it in turn motivates companies to abandon quality standards in clothing production, increasing textile waste and the risk posed to garment workers. If you’re anything like me and you spend way too much time worrying about things you’ll never have any control over, then that means you’ve probably asked yourself this question: Why do we continue to allow highly problematic companies like Shein to sell their products at all?

The answer’s actually pretty simple. Aside from the fact that I’m sure our country’s leadership doesn’t receive very many targeted ads for its products (which are seemingly mostly marketed to young women), regulating trade with the company would actually involve regulating trade with its host country.

Companies like Shein are what economists call multinational corporations, or MNCs. What makes an MNC “multinational” is that it is based in one host country, but chooses to engage in foreign direct investment, which is basically where a company sets up shop in other countries in exchange for certain incentives.

So what can the overwhelming success of a company like Shein tell us about the state of global politics and trade regulation?

I’m just going to assume you’ve taken a basic econ course and skip over the whole supply and demand equation – we all know that companies make things that they know consumers want to buy. We also know that they want the cost of this production to be as low as possible so they can extract the largest gains.

When MNCs choose between countries with which to engage in foreign direct investment, they’re looking to ones that will allow them to maximize efficiency by cutting as many costs as possible. Labor, especially in a manufacturing-intensive industry like clothing production, is typically the largest of those costs. So, when engaging in FDI, companies with labor-intensive manufacturing processes look to countries with looser regulatory standards.

Everyday we all play one big, never-ending game of telephone, both in-person and online. As we express ourselves and simultaneously consume a vast sea of information, it’s easier than ever to misinterpret things, to condemn or glorify one another, and to get carried away to polar extremes. We are balls of pure emotion, raw nerves shouting into an echo chamber, agreeing and disagreeing with each other but rarely making actual connections. Each of us resides in our own bubble of beliefs; true sincerity is often buried under layers of irony; small things are blown out of proportion and big things are overlooked. In a generation of such individualism, it seems we’re becoming more homogenous than ever.

HYSTERIC is a crystallization of this chaotic moment in our culture. HYSTERIC dares you to act outside of what’s expected, with reckless abandon.

In recent years, ORANGE has evolved. Once a newspaper-style publication centered mainly around local Austin events, our content has increasingly shifted towards creative writing and graphic design. Accordingly, our zines have reflected this shift. It’s been an honor to help lead such a talented all-female staff in producing this body of work.

I’m so proud of what we’ve accomplished this semester. To Hannah, our Editor-in-Chief, I can’t thank you enough for your commitment to ORANGE. You light up every room you walk into and know exactly how to balance out my Type B brain. To my creative team, getting to know each of you has been a joy. Your artistry knows no bounds and I can’t wait to see what you make in the future. To Avery, my insanely talented Design Head, this zine couldn’t have happened without you. I’ll never forget the countless hours we’ve spent together, whether we’re singing show tunes while typesetting or psychobabbling over FaceTime. You’ve helped me grow as a designer and I’m forever thankful. Although this was my last semester in ORANGE, I can rest easy knowing you will do great things as Creative Director next year. I love you all and will miss you dearly.

With love, Spencer Hickman, Creative Director