Minimalist Wardrobe: Craftsmanship
Voting with our money
I believe that when we spend, we are voting with our money.
And I like my votes to go toward quality craftsmanship and refined skill sets.
When we vote, we can tell a manufacturer that we want more plastic. More drilling into the earth for oil. That we want a world with more pollution and poor working conditions.
Or, we can tell a craftsman that we want more natural fibres, sustainable dying processes and handmade, repairable items. That we want a world with handed-down knowledge, and skills.
But those higher standards and skill sets synonymous with the upper echelons of luxury typically come with a heftier price tag; and though it might seem more rational to balk at what feels like a down payment on every single stitch, there's more to buying than just the cost of the end product. View the video
Why shop luxury?
For years I dreamed of owning a Burberry trench coat. There was something about its casual wealth, (even though the price tag was anything but casual), that spoke to me.
I browsed more accessible versions, but every time I touched a button or flipped a lapel, I had a sense of selling out.
The rows of double-breasted buttons, and belts that tied at the waist, were a clear nod to the luxurious inspiration; but so were all the cut corners.
The difference between the luxury house trenches and the High Street knock-offs, is that one is designed for function and the other for fashion. (When I say fashion, I mean a particular trend, or a single season.)
And that's an important distinction to make, and why knowing what you're paying for is so important.
Crafted from bespoke, cotton gabardine designed to bead and repel water, the Burberry trench upholds an impeccable standard of craftsmanship. An example of this, is the iconic collar.
Every single one has more than 180 stitches sewn by hand, just to retain a fluid curve - a technique that can take a specialist a year to learn.
And that's just the collar.
Of course, there are other rain coats out there at a fraction of the cost, like those from the label Rains.
These rain jackets have gone viral in an assorted palette of muted neutrals, and pastels. However, if your tastes are more sumptuous and exacting, you will probably be turned off by the cookie-cutter answer to wet-weather gear.
Once I knew I wanted the Burberry Sandringham trench, I let go of the world of polyester possibilities and polyurethane. Shopping luxury isn't just a privileged past-time, it's also an education.
High quality solutions require a diligence and discipline, and don't always have to equate to lofty price tags.
Mainstream mania, on the other hand, is a recruitment into fast fashion; something that I believe is infinitely more problematic. (And something that ends up being more expensive, in the long run.)
Craft integrity
There's a commitment required when purchasing luxury items.
A Burberry coat isn't an ordinary purchase, and that is part of its appeal. Such a purchase is unlikely something you intend to do more than once in your lifetime, unless you have extraordinary circumstances.
This level of commitment appeals to me, because I'm a minimalist. I have no interest in collecting coats.
I am a one and done kind of weather-proofer.
(And if that sounds hard to believe, just have a look at Burberry's repair policy. The Sandringham is designed to outlast the wearer.)
When it comes to the more standard raincoats, you cannot repair the sort of tears their fabric and plastic snaps are prone to. They go into landfill, and that's that.
Not long ago, I was looking through some online posts of a designer, making note of some of her personal items that weren't part of her own brand, but rather were the things that she deemed worthy of investing in, elsewhere.
Buttery soft cashmere sweaters, covetable Golden Goose sneakers. A long coat by Forte Forte.
And then a pair of shoes that made me stop, mid-scroll. There was nothing special about them. No frills, no embellishments.
They were just an ordinary pair of boots.
And that was what caught my eye.
Because they also weren't ordinary, at all.
I had never heard of the brand FEIT before, but I was quickly taken by their impeccable standards and sustainable practices. The best advice I could give anyone, when it comes to buying, is to find brands that align with your values.
When my FEIT shoes arrived, (purchased modestly second-hand on a local trading site), they were so perfect I could feel adrenaline coursing through my fingers as I slid the cardboard drawer open by its leather tab, and took in the hand written label that told me my shoes were the 41st edition made of 60 pairs in total.
Inside I had the signature of the craftsman himself, who made my pair of shoes, from start to finish, with his own bare hands.
Wearable and repairable, they are deliciously made and go with absolutely everything.
Luxury is not a term I reserve exclusively for a high-end, household name. I believe luxury is far more subjective than that, and this A-Z series will hopefully outline why.
That's why I had to set the scene in my post about my Approach, and how I am not looking to stock-up on multiples of the same thing.
I'm looking to refine.
To distill my acquisitions down to necessities, and values, whilst still being able to appreciate every single thing that comes out of it.
Acknowledge what goes into a craft
Perhaps the most important of all, but harder than saving for a coat, or searching for shoes, is acknowledging and appreciating what is already in your possession. People talk about whether or not something 'serves' them, but I try to extend a compassionate view onto even inanimate, material objects.
Sure, you expect to have a rain coat that serves you by keeping you dry in wet weather, but are you also serving the garment by taking proper care of it?
Do you appreciate the time it took for someone to learn the skills required to make it?
Can you see nature in the warp and weft of threads? How everything came together to create the cotton for a coat that keeps you dry during the rain required to produce the cotton?
If you already have a garment that serves you functionally, serve it in return with deep gratitude, and you will discover the desire to buy isn't as pleasurable as you have been conditioned to believe.
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