When a Fandom Ruins Great Fashion

Prompt No. 28: Brand consciousness, White privilege, Taylor Swift Catching Strays, James

I own and routinely wear a few pieces that are recognizable to those with even a passing awareness of luxury, including Louis Vuitton, Cartier, and Tiffany & Co. Although these are tasteful, “reputably correct” staples made famous by a pantheon of stylish dead white women, my presentation is often summed up as “brand conscious”— a polite way of calling me a label whore. For the longest time, I felt pangs of embarrassment whenever someone made this point. To compensate for this misunderstanding, I exhausted accusers with my rationale. This is a connection to family, Black culture, and sometimes even private school. This is a complex love of fashion, not status emulation. Besides, if I wanted to signal anything, there are far easier ways than diligently tracking down long-forgotten discontinued items. After a while I noticed a trend: only white people felt the need to characterize my style in this way. Regardless of context or tone, my consumptive habits needed to sit in opposition to their feigned naiveté or contempt. Never mind their race serving as the ultimate signifier, allowing them to garner esteem — or simply the benefit of the doubt — without obvious indicators of cultivation. Expressing disinterest in fashion and luxury to a Black woman maintained not only class hierarchy but a racial one, as well.

According to W. David Marx, “status position is always contextual, based on how we are treated in a particular time and place,” a social reality Black Americans learned early. [1] Historically speaking, we have always utilized sartorial acculturation as a means of demanding fair and equal treatment in this country. Before attempting to escape enslavement, Black men and women made a point to steal garments to resemble their “free” brothers and sisters up North. Adoption of respectable, now considered “preppy” style sought to combat dehumanizing racist tropes, as Black protestors facing aggressive dogs, searing firehoses, and constabulary beatings were broadcast into American homes across the nation. Employing fashion far above our station as a means of garnering basic safety and respect has given us unique insight into the processes of thought and behavior that substantiate social hierarchies, even an understanding that something as simple as originality “may simply be the democratization of aristocratic custom.” By reinforcing one’s ability to move throughout society without the frivolity of fashion, those white people wielded a well-worn weapon of white supremacy, a bully club of a reminder that there are very clear limits to presentation, especially for Black folks.