Cosplaying Poverty: The Problem with Distressed Designer Clothing
In recent years, there has been a significant increase in the number of “distressed” items released by high end retailers. Companies like Golden Goose capitalize on the appearance of their worn, beat up sneakers, with a hefty starting price of $495. Marketing their products towards the 18-34 age demographic, the company is now labeled as the “footwear of choice” among celebrities such as Taylor Swift and Selena Gomez, and is valued at just over 1 billion USD. Other companies such as Balenciaga have taken an even more aggressive approach to the so-called “distressed fashion,” selling a $2,145 dollar leather rip off of an iconic Ikea bag in their Spring 2017 collection. Ripped jeans and oversized sweats have become so normalized in the luxury fashion sector that it would be hard to pin down a singular company perpetuating the trend. Brands like Aviator Nation are capitalizing on this fashion trend, selling smiley-face sweatpants ($160) and rainbow zip-up hoodies ($190). At a period of perpetually growing income inequality worldwide, the rise of blue-collar cosplay in the high fashion market begs a larger question: is the goal of the fashion industry to fabricate authenticity or glamorize poverty for the wealthy and elite?
Historically speaking, the wealthy have dressed down during periods of vast income and wealth inequality, primarily as an attempt to blend in with the crowds. Even Marie Antoinette, known for her extravagant costumes and lavish hairstyles, went so far as to simplify her wardrobe. She idealized a simple life away from the stress of the French court, conceivably even running off to her faux-rustic village Hameau de la Reine at Versailles where she would dress in peasant clothing and pretend to be a milkmaid. When a 1783 portrait of Antoinette in a simple straw hat and cotton robe went on display at the Salon of the Académie Royale, the public response was immediate. Her move towards casual dress was seen as scandalous and immoral, and the gown she wore was soon nicknamed the “chemise of the queen.”
However, even in this portrait she managed to display her status through the fabric; a crucial distinction between her and the third estate. Traditional French agricultural workers would certainly not have imported Italian straw for their hats or worn embroidered muslin gowns with silk gauze while toiling away in the fields. Moreover, Antoinette’s choice to adopt simple “peasant” silhouettes became somewhat of a failed trompe l’oeil, as the larger public did not see her renowned “peasant dress” with quite the same inspiration as intended. Her imitation of everyday dress materialized as a mockery of the working classes more than an arcadian escape.
Similar to today’s world of Balenciaga and Golden Goose, French aristocrats’ clothing became ‘exotic’ and fetishized decorative costumes. According to fashion expert Colleen Hill, the desire for worn-in clothing may stem from a human need to convey a sense of well-loved clothing, much in the way pre-industrial clothing was made using bits and pieces of miss-matched fabric–a sign of the effort and care put into them. This sentiment appears logical at first glance, given the production quality and value of most fast fashion companies. However, the problem lies in the introduction of high end brands to the distressed market.
The goal of the high end clothing industry seems to be to promote the notion that while acceptable and even fashionable for the rich, dressing down is unacceptable for the underprivileged. It is true that, subconsciously, dressing more disheveled may be a way for the wealthy to appear more blasé, but companies marketing their entire brand off of extremely worn-in clothing seem to have a different goal in mind given their high prices. Rather than having customers shop second hand, high fashion companies have capitalized on this idea of vintage inspired clothing. It perpetuates yet another barrier in public perception between the wealthy and the poor—there are those who can afford to pay for ripped up jeans and those who cannot afford a new pair at all. While the rich may find this trend on par with street style, the ability to choose expensive ripped up clothing is just another unspoken class signifier.
This trend of acceptable when rich but impermissible when poor expands far beyond the fashion industry. A recent Twitter trend asking users, “What’s considered trashy if you’re poor but classy if you’re rich?” gained traction, with many users pointing out the hypocrisy of a world where financial stability determines one’s public acceptability. Some examples individuals came up with were being bilingual at a young age, or wearing athleisure in public. Even owning a smaller home is looked upon fondly when inhabited by the wealthy, as they are perceived as highly cost efficient and thrifty. On the contrary, poorer individuals living in subsidized housing carry the burden of “unwarranted social stigma,” and are publicly shamed for their housing conditions. Nonetheless, these examples further suggest a social tendency to romanticize poverty for the wealthy, at the expense of lower class Americans struggling to make ends meet.
Alternatively speaking, the recent revival of high fashion distressed clothing can be traced back to the 90’s grunge era, a time period where tattered, moth-infested clothing was all the rage. Part of the attraction to the look may be that it implies a certain authenticity, or street credibility. According to Vogue, Golden Goose sneakers convey a sense of sportiness or vintage ease modeled after basketball and skateboarding shoes. By incorporating a sense of wear and tear, the shoes have personality and can be both dressed down or up for special occasions.
However, this analysis of the brand still fails to account for the fact that ownership of the shoes displays an obvious wealth status. The bottom line is that whether or not it was intended, the public display of brand identifiable distressed clothing is a form of conspicuous consumption. The distressed clothing market allows the wearer to pick and choose when poverty suits them, creating a look underhandedly based in irony and mockery.
Carol Davis is a Staff Writer at CPR and class of 2026 at Barnard College. She is a native New Yorker who made the strenuous move from the East Side to the West Side, and is currently undecided on her major.