This story is part of Image magazine’s October Luxury issue, which explores what luxury really means to artists, designers, estheticians, architects and more.
In the 2005 Chanel miniseries “Signe Chanel,” French filmmaker Loïc Prijean offers an unprecedented look inside the storied luxury fashion house. In one scene, the film visits a farm in the Parisian countryside. There lives an elderly woman who uses a handmade loom, the only loom at the time capable of weaving the edges of Chanel jackets. According to the documentary, Chanel made several unsuccessful attempts to master this woman’s skills, sending interns and seamstresses to the farm, but only her hands could achieve such delicacy. This scene came to mind when I asked Steph Yodka, head of content at luxury e-commerce platform Ssense (also a former colleague of mine), about the evolution of luxury fashion. “Every jacket is luxurious because it’s a work of art,” Yodka says.
Almost 20 years after Prigent’s Chanel documentary, we have entered a whole new world of luxury. Luxury e-commerce retailers are struggling with this problem. When news broke that London retailer Matches was closing in March this year, products from brands such as Dries Van Noten and Rick Owens found their way onto the Walmart market, much to the surprise (and outrage) of people. It led to Some. Economic uncertainty and inflation are forcing the giant parent companies of luxury brands such as LVMH and Kering to hire new creative directors, expand overseas, and juggle rising prices and overstocking while resale sites offer monopoly on products. Maintaining integrity and legitimacy has become a difficult challenge.
In a saturated market, the days of the bespoke craftsmanship and artistry depicted in Prigent’s films are long gone, replaced by over-consumable products like expensive graphic T-shirts and sneakers. It tends to feel like it’s happening. Luxury fashion, once exclusive to luxury fashion brands and the ultra-wealthy, is now more culturally ubiquitous and more popular than ever through social media and resale platforms like The RealReal, Poshmark, eBay, Grailed, and Depop. Now easier to access. The word “luxury” is actually both emotional and subjective, and despite economic instability, luxury fashion is everywhere these days.
Fall/Winter 2024 is (yes, still) firmly in the era of “quiet luxury” defined by brands like Kite, Bottega Veneta, and The Row. It got me thinking: What on earth does the word “luxury” mean? This may seem like a silly question, but in a time of soaring prices, market saturation, widening class disparities, climate change, and international turmoil, people in the fashion industry are becoming more and more concerned about luxury on a personal level. I wondered how it related to the concept. Is it still sparkling? How does it fit into their daily life? What does it represent? How do they metabolize the luxury trend cycle?
Beneath the surface, the long-standing appeal of luxury goods is often about a sense of belonging. Yotka recalls her first high-end fashion purchase. It was a Marc by Marc Jacobs T-shirt that I bought when Bloomingdale’s in Soho opened in spring 2004. “The fashion world at the time was very Marc Jacobs, so it felt very luxurious,” she says. “For me, that T-shirt symbolized an entire universe that I wanted to be a part of. Whether it cost $5 or $500, it still would have felt like luxury.”
For Guillermo Andrade, founder and designer of the cult LA-based menswear label 424, the professional version of soccer cleats was the first item that shaped his personal definition of luxury. “They looked like everyone else’s spikes, but they smelled different and felt different when you put them on,” Andrade says. “These were the first things I thought of as a luxury item because I didn’t really need that model of cleat to play soccer, but they were something I wanted and wanted,” he said. continues. “For me, that’s the difference between mainstream consumer goods and luxury goods. Cleats represented what I wanted to be a part of.”
On an aesthetic level, logos once reigned supreme, but today the luxury brands that best capture the zeitgeist have mastered a more subdued, but importantly less boring, design POV based on personal style. I’m doing it. “I think we are in a time where we find beauty in the everyday,” Yodka says. “At Row, you’ll see me wearing the prettiest trench coats, cashmere sweaters, and ballet flats. I don’t want to change my entire life or be a different person every day, I just want to be a little more organized and a great version of who I already am. It is.”
This finely tuned, everyday, unified approach appeals to Daniel Pacitti, curator of vintage shop 194 Los Angeles and co-founder of Made in the USA clothing label Cease. “I don’t buy as much anymore. I think people buy too much,” Pacitti says. “But I recently made a new friend in Tokyo who runs a brand called A.PRESSE, and I bought a hoodie from him. The fit and wash technique are great, and to me it’s more luxurious than a Louis Vuitton hoodie. ”
For many people, quality is still worth buying luxury goods, but with so much shopping online, you need to be more careful in identifying well-made clothing. “There’s nothing worse than a kid saving money to buy something, like I did when I was 15, and then coming home, looking in the mirror, and being so disappointed,” Andrade says. “I have a lot of respect for people’s money. The last thing I want to do is feel like, ‘Why did I buy this?'”
Mina Arishmerny, founder of LA shop Maimoun, which supports emerging designers such as SC103, J.Kim and Super Yaya, agrees. “I think luxury is something that makes life easier and reduces stress,” says Arieshmerni. “I don’t usually associate[luxury]with material things because I feel strongly that things that are well-made and last for years should be within reach.”
Working in the fashion industry can be particularly enlightening and, at times, somber. “I learned that a lot of luxuries aren’t really luxuries,” Paciti says. “When you learn about manufacturing, you realize that most of it is made in the same places, in the same factories, and with the same fabrics, but luxury doesn’t necessarily have to be expensive. Sometimes, you’ll see people sewing things by hand on the street. It’s the same level of work as the people who work in the Dior ateliers, except it’s on the runway. The labor of some is more valuable than that of others.”
“Maybe it’s because of my upbringing, but I hate the word ‘luxury,'” Andrade says. “It feels like another tool to bring you down and remind you of what you’re missing as a human being. The idea that ‘I’m not good enough until I buy this.’ But what makes me love my job is that sometimes I go to the store, pick up a product, and think, “Wow, this is amazing.” I love seeing someone’s dreams materialize into a physical product they can take home. That’s when you can truly enjoy fashion’s craftsmanship, innovation, and attention to detail. All the little quirks that really touch your heart. ”
It is precisely these specificities that make luxury such a personal topic. In many ways, it’s about reciprocity. How much can your clothes give back to you? How does it bring you formative and mundane moments in your life? Defining luxury on your own terms offers an opportunity to reclaim a world that is often arcane and cost-prohibitive. “True luxury is something that can withstand the test of emotional times,” Yodka says. She still wears the Marc by Marc Jacobs T-shirt she bought with a friend. Because it is timeless and memorable. “I want your brother or cousin to try to steal your 424 hoodie,” Andrade says. “It’s a piece of clothing that I’ve always cherished. What I value is the intimate relationship between you and your clothes.”Aryeshmerni’s first luxury item was a rhinestone logo on the arm. I went with my tinted Dior sunglasses, but wearing my new Base Range sweater feels like I’m starting a relationship with an item that will probably stay in my closet for the rest of my life. .
Fashion is often individualistic in its gaze, used to establish one’s own identity, but in its ubiquity, it can be traced from the initial design inspiration to the hands that made it, and It also represents shared experiences, right down to the dreams and fantasies we project onto our wardrobes. and their ultimate lived experience. Our clothes come to life from the beginning, in a rhizomatic network of energy exchanges and signals. No matter the price or brand of the item, the opportunity to add stories of our own lineage or the people we love to our clothes is perhaps the most luxurious of all.
Production Assistant: Carmen Madera
Romany Williams is a writer, editor, and stylist based on Vancouver Island, Canada. Her collaborators include SSENSE, Atmos, LA Times Image, and more.