Changing Direction January 28, 2010

People who work in niche professions tend to network with each other. The other day I was chitchatting with “Allison,” the owner of a similar boutique in another part of the country, who popped in while on vacation.

I make no secret of my sheer frustration with wholesalers who don’t seem to understand that my clients are not interested in clothes that are oddly-colored, scratchy, unflattering, ill-fitting, or just plain sloppy. Allison was in complete agreement with me. In fact, she had a few choice words of her own to describe the sorts of things both she and I refuse to carry. “Selling ugly clothes just because they’re ethically produced is counterproductive to the movement,” she says. “All it does is tell the world that you can dress well or ethically but not both, and my customers won’t compromise.” Blunt, but there’s a lot of truth in that statement.

And then it hit me: what the hell am I still doing in retail?

I went to fashion school years ago with big dreams about changing fashion for the better. I envisioned a return to quality and good taste. I imagined gorgeous clothes free from scary chemicals and the tyranny of sweatshops. I dreamed of creating drool-worthy lines that also happened to be vegan. Most of all, I wanted to give average-sized women some truly fashionable and flattering options.

Launching a new fashion label can easily cost hundreds of thousands of dollars, and I don’t exactly have that kind of money lying around. It’s risky – there is no guarantee of ever breaking even, let alone succeeding. The possibility of being copied, screwed out of payments, etc. is extremely high.

But, I have to try.

For years now I’ve told myself I’ll get my own line going “someday when I have time.” At the rate I’ve been going, I won’t have time until I’m dead. I’m not getting any younger, and I have come to realize I shouldn’t keep putting it off.

The torch will be passed. I may still update (when there’s something worth writing about), but it’s not unheard-of for self-employed designers to put in 80-hour work weeks. Still, someone’s got to do it…not everyone can wear a burlap sack dress to work (and not many people would WANT to, in any case).

Ciao for now.

Welcome to the Disclaimer! January 5, 2010

Disclaimer:

If you have a problem with vegetarianism, veganism, fair trade, environmentalism, ethics, etc., this blog is not intended for you. (But maybe you should read it anyway – you might learn a few things.)

If you have a problem with those of us who love fashion, but still want to do our part, keep moving. If I can’t dance, it’s not my revolution – and many of my readers feel the same way, whether their indulgence of choice is skateboarding, candy,  jewelry, or anything else that is fun but not strictly necessary.

If you do not understand tongue-in-cheek humor, sarcasm, or satire, this blog will periodically go over your head. I come from a fashion family and my snarky sense of humor came with the territory. I don’t expect everyone to like it, but if you don’t, try reading some of Jonathan Swift’s satirical essays before attacking me for making relatively mild wisecracks. Start with “A Modest Proposal.”

In fact, I’ve had it with the “humorless vegan” stereotype, and I refuse to hide my wit. I’m not the funniest person alive by a long shot, but when I come up with something potentially amusing, I’m going to post it – and I heartily encourage other veg*n bloggers to incorporate humor and style into their writings. I really do think more people would be inclined to go vegan if they knew it didn’t have to mean becoming dull, judgmental, obsessed with political correctness, or whatever else it is that they don’t want to be.

Happy belated New Year, ladies and gents.

Sentiment vs. Stones December 22, 2009

In the 5.5 weeks since I got around to accepting a marriage proposal, I’ve found myself chatting both online and offline with other engaged women. In that short time frame, I’ve been both pleasantly surprised and horribly shocked.

I’m impressed by the growing number of brides who aren’t forcing ugly bridesmaid dresses on their attendants. I’m impressed by couples who take every possible extra step to make sure all of their guests with special needs are accommodated. I’m definitely impressed by the growing popularity of decent veg*n menu options at non-veg*n weddings.*

I’m horrified by the proliferation of couples who bad-mouth small, independent vendors for not being able to cheapen high-end goods or services (it is SO RUDE to ask someone to take a pay cut, especially in this economy). I’m horrified by the number of brides who are upset by their grooms’ sudden bad behavior (whether it’s cheating, slovenliness, or suddenly criticizing everything they do) but don’t either insist he go to counseling or leave him (a divorced friend of mine will tell you marrying the wrong person is much, much worse than calling off a wedding). I’m horrified when anyone gets mad at a newly-pregnant relative or friend for “stealing” their thunder (even if accidents didn’t happen, it’s unreasonable to expect everyone else to plan their lives around one’s wedding).

Mostly, I’m horrified by a sort of greedy behavior that seems to be especially common among brides.

I’ve encountered brides who are lucky enough to receive a relative’s ring, then freak out upon discovering that the stone isn’t worth as much as they thought – or even a fake. Instead of reminding such brides that they were lucky enough to find the right person, lucky enough to get engaged, and lucky enough to be given a ring with sentimental value, the prevailing sentiment often seems to be “Bad groom! What’s wrong with him?! He owes you a REAL ring right now!” (And by “real ring”, they tend to mean a big diamond. Do these women have any idea how much a 2-carats-or-more natural diamond costs?!)

It’s sickening.

There is nothing wrong with WANTING a big, valuable ring. It is, however, decidedly tasteless to DEMAND one.

Diamonds are expensive (in part because their value is inflated). More than a few couples have student loans, car payments, house payments, child support and/or alimony from previous relationships, etc. Is it really so bad to start off with a synthetic diamond (i.e. Moissanite) and upgrade to a natural stone later? (Or, for that matter, just keep the Moissanite because they’re always conflict-free, completely flawless, and greener than mining a new diamond?) My parents couldn’t afford nice rings when they got married. They bought what they could afford, and have both upgraded their rings since then. I call that good common sense.

I’ll never forget the time I went to the jewelers’ with my dad to pick up Mom’s Mother’s Day present. Dad and “Ernest,” the jeweler, decided it would be a great opportunity to teach me how to spot a valuable diamond. “Someday some boy is going to give you a diamond, sweetie, and you’ll want to know whether it’s worth accepting or not,” my dad insisted.

To which I replied, “Dad, I don’t care about diamonds! I like colored stones. And if I ever accept a diamond from a guy it’ll be because I love him! And in case you forgot, I’m FOURTEEN! I don’t need to know this stuff yet!”

Dad immediately backed down. Ernest didn’t take it personally. In fact, Dad’s kind of embarrassed by it now. Fourteen is, after all, an awfully young age to teach your daughter how to spot a big spender.

Incidentally, according to Ernest, the average straight male knows very little about jewelry unless he’s in the trade or the Mafia. Most jewelers know that buying an engagement ring is something most people do only once in their lives, and there are unscrupulous jewelers who will gladly unload a badly flawed stone upon a buyer who doesn’t know any better if they get the chance. Why get mad at your lover for buying a ring he (or she) honestly believed was worth its asking price?

It isn’t the value of an engagement ring that matters. The sentiment and promise behind it are what matters.

Strictly speaking, it isn’t even necessary to have an engagement ring! Some brides happily accept cars, vintage guitars, or other gifts instead. In fact, the first guy who asked me to marry him gave me the bracelet his late great-grandmother gave him on her deathbed. It was a fairly simple 1940s design in sterling silver with no stones of any kind and it would have fetched about $10 if I’d sold it for scrap, but it floored me far more than a $35,000 rock would have. (It’s true that I turned him down, but that was because we wouldn’t have been a good long-term match. For one thing, the guy ate a ton of meat…)

I have even heard tales of brides who become engaged to men they don’t really love just so they can have a diamond. What the hell? This is the 21st century – I say if you want a diamond so badly, save your money and buy it yourself instead of expecting a man to hand you one.

Lest anyone think this is sour grapes, I have owned diamond jewelry (in fact, I received a ring with diamond chips for my ninth birthday). I no longer do, having sold it all after finding out how unethical diamonds can be. I’ll inherit my grandma’s and mom’s jewelry when they go, but it’s going straight into a bank vault in case my brother ever has children who might want it someday.

I accepted my fiancé’s proposal because I love him, not because he gave me a ring. Before he bought it, I told him that I didn’t expect him to buy something that was beyond his budget (he has grad-school loans, and his visa is going to cost a few thousand dollars). I love the ring he gave me, but if I ever get sick of it, so what? We can always upgrade. (Though, truthfully, we’d both rather spend the money on traveling.)

It’s true that flashy engagement rings can be very pretty, and it can be fun to show them off, but having a good, loving relationship is priceless. The ring is just a bauble.

*BTW, if any omnivorous brides are reading this: if you have a veggie option at the reception, please put it on the menu instead of having it as a silent option. Many vegetarians are uncomfortable with asking for special accommodation and won’t know to request a vegetarian meal if they don’t know one is already available. Also, some omnivores might actually prefer the veggie option.

More Dirt on Bamboo December 17, 2009

Today’s Boston Globe brings us this article, highlighting some of the ugly, not-so-green-after-all truths about bamboo.

While the article mentions bamboo’s usage in flooring and furniture rather than its apparel applications, it is well worth reading – after all, bamboo used in apparel manufacturing can also be clear-cut or over-harvested. (If you are just tuning in, bamboo fabric isn’t as green as it’s made out to be.)

Now I feel guilty for coming to work in the Bailey bamboo dress I love so much…*sigh*

Fur is for Beautiful Animals and Scary Hookers November 25, 2009

If you give a damn about ethics, you’ve already wondered why the hell it’s no longer taboo (enough) to do something as disgusting as wearing fur. This article from Sunday’s edition of The Guardian, which includes quotes from people who profit from the sale of fur and from PETA co-founder Ingrid Newkirk, definitely merits reading.

(I know many you don’t care for Ms. Newkirk, and certain PETA campaigns definitely leave a bad taste in my mouth, but considering that most media outlets are struggling to attract and keep advertisers these days – and believe me, fashion magazines feature fur so much partly to keep their fur-selling advertisers happy – at least The Guardian is presenting both sides of the issue. Take that, Vogue!)

Writer Elizabeth Day even outs the fur industry’s greenwashing, referring to studies conducted by Ford Motor Company AND the University of Michigan* that indicate the significantly higher amount of energy required to produce a real fur coat (vs. synthetic), though she doesn’t quite have all of her facts straight (leather is NOT a by-product, Ms. Day…please read your own paper’s archives!).

Particularly worth noting is this quote from Newkirk:

“These designers who are given junkets to Scandinavia and are given free material – I hate to call fur a ‘material’ – I suppose they must be desperate. If you’re truly creative, you don’t design with something someone hands you. Fur has lost all its cachet. It’s yesterday. I see prostitutes in Atlantic City wearing fur.“

Which has given me a fantastic idea.

Those who wear fur (and are not in immediate danger of freezing to death if they take it off) choose to do so because they (erroneously) believe it makes them look rich and beautiful. These people are completely self-centered; they rarely, if ever, care about animal cruelty or the environment. The logical thing to do is to remove every last trace of fur’s cachet by consistently associating it with precisely the same sorts of people for whom fur-wearers do not want to be mistaken.

Say there’s a new girl in your neighborhood with a rabbit-fur jacket. Under the guise of being neighborly (and you ARE a good neighbor anyway, aren’t you?), sweetly let her know that the hookers down on Broadway Street wear fur jackets similar to hers; she might want to wear her polar-fleece coat when she goes out.

Or, say a snotty mink-wearer in front of you and your friends at Starbucks yells at the barista. You might choose to say something like this just loud enough for her to hear you:

“God, what a self-entitled slag.”

“I know! Only an overgrown spoiled brat acts that way.”

“She’s probably a hooker. Tacky coat, lower-class manners – no one respectable presents themselves that way.”

“Totally.”

Or, say a fur-wearer is holding a coffee cup and standing outside. Wouldn’t it be awfully embarrassing (for her) if several people plunked loose change into her cup, “innocently” mistaking her for a panhandler? (If she gets bitchy, ask her why she’s dressed like a homeless person if she doesn’t want people to think she actually is homeless.)***

It goes without saying that, in all of these cases, your message will be MUCH more potent if:

• You are well-dressed. Remember, tasteful understatement unless you are a fashion plate!
• You leave the message gear at home (or at least strategically drape your scarf over the “Fur Sucks” button on your messenger bag until she’s gone). It’s counterintuitive for animal-lovers, but trust me, ridiculing fur hags is much more effective if they DON’T realize your true motive. Everyone loves to write off a “freak” or “extremist”, but no one likes being shamed or snickered at by someone they assume is in the majority.
• You are reasonably well-mannered (slightly snarky is okay).
• You have strong enough acting skills to keep a completely straight face (when “mistaking” a fur-wearer for a hooker, anyway).
• If you have an upper-class accent, now’s the time to use it. (If you do not have an upper-class accent, proceed with extreme caution should you dare imitate one; they can be very difficult to get exactly right!)

Ironically, many of the really upper-class people that modern-day fur-wearers seek to emulate rarely, if ever, wear real fur anymore. At a certain level, flaunting money is irredeemably vulgar, and what screams “I’m rich, spoiled, and proud of it” more loudly than a fur coat? Fur is for tasteless nouveaux riches. Truly rich people go for tasteful understatement (case in point: when she was young, Jackie O. wore a cloth coat when mink coats were all the rage, although she certainly could have afforded fur even then).**

Is this a slightly immature idea? Maybe. But it’s definitely far less immature than selfishly and unnecessarily taking another creature’s life without a second thought.

*Note to Ford and U. Mich.: conducting the study again to evaluate how energy-efficient a good fake is these days could bring in very valuable publicity. Green is in, you know. Ditto for compassion. Just don’t let the fur industry bully you into doctoring the results – if that happens, you WILL lose all your credibility when the public finds out.

**Exception: conspicuous outrage. If you come from a well-respected, prominent, and/or notorious family, you can generally wear whatever the hell you want without hearing too many jokes about Bubble or Lady Gaga. However, this only works if you are dressing to express yourself and have a good idea of who you are. Otherwise, you’ll look like you really ARE trying to imitate Lady Gaga…and failing miserably at it.

***Please treat actual homeless people with respect – they are human beings, and many of them have untreated mental illnesses. More than 80% of young homeless people are forced to leave home, often due to abuse. True compassion extends to disadvantaged people, too, so be nice.

Fur Production is Cruel to People, Too October 27, 2009

Flipping through the new VegNews yesterday, I came across Rory Freedman’s brief retelling of a confrontation with a callous, nasty fur-wearer. In typical fashion, the perpetrator made it exceptionally clear that she didn’t give a flying fudge about the living beings who suffered brutish lives and extremely painful deaths to become part of a coat.

This was, of course, hardly surprising to me. In a previous job, I routinely had to interact with a large number of fur-loving women. All but one of them* were appallingly rude, whiny, self-entitled, and extremely spoiled. Their unpleasant behavior included, but most certainly was not limited to:

*Shoving AmEx cards in our faces (they all knew the establishment had never accepted them – and I’m not exaggerating; they were unusually aggressive)

*Throwing tantrums when there was a wait for a fitting room

*Verbally abusing staff (one was also prone to uttering ethnic slurs – go figure why someone like that was patronizing a business with a predominantly Asian staff, but she was such a bully that even the business owner was afraid to give her the boot)

*Coming in ten minutes to closing time and demanding same-day turnaround (my boss was quite adamant that she didn’t want to run her business like a sweatshop, so fulfilling such a demand was impossible)

*Coming by after closing time and banging – HARD – on the glass door (as if we were going to wait on anyone after hours – the older employees all had to relieve their babysitters and we younger ones all would have been late for our second jobs)

Do I have to go on, or do you get the idea?

I strongly suspect that someone who doesn’t give a damn about animal rights isn’t going to care all that much about human rights, either. However, the fur industry can in fact be cruel to people, too; and some image-conscious fur-wearers might stop wearing fur if they had any idea how horrible it makes them look. Only someone who truly doesn’t care if everyone knows they lack empathy (think Anna Wintour) can afford to act like they don’t care about the exploitation of the working class.

If you still haven’t picked up a copy of Ellen Ruppel Shell’s book Cheap: The High Cost of Discount Culture, it’s worth investing in a copy for the following passage alone:

So Deng, a migrant to Guangdong from a mountainous region of central China, told a Washington Post reporter in January 2009 how he had stood knee-deep in vats of hot toxic dye, seven days a week, twelve hours a day, at his job in the Overseas Fur Factory for a salary of $15 a month. Deng said many workers lost their footing or passed out in the fumes…

I was able to locate the article in the Washington Post’s online archives; a free preview can be viewed here (alas, the Post charges for viewing or printing archived articles in their entirety). However, do note that fur production is not the focus of the article.

That passage is also of use when dealing with anyone who falsely claims fur production can be eco-friendly (as mentioned, by yours truly, in several previous entries, faux fur is far more energy-efficient and much less toxic). Would a respected newspaper like the Washington Post make up a story mentioning toxic fur dye when the fur industry and its environmental effects were not the subject of the article in the first place? I don’t think so.

*ONE fur-wearer was polite and well-behaved…which may or may not have had something to do with the fact that her teenage son hated to come with her until I started working there. He had a bit of a crush on me, so she shrewdly inquired about my work schedule. I have to admit it was clever of her.

The Trouble with Greening Your Furniture October 23, 2009

Even if you aren’t planning to re-decorate your home anytime soon, do take a minute to read The Truth About Green Upholstery, an Apartment Therapy Re-Nest guest post by furniture maker Matthew Haly. Frankly, it’s a rather depressing article, but a very honest look at an industry that isn’t exactly motivated to green its products (and, of course, there are plenty of companies that aren’t above greenwashing).

I am not a furniture maker, but I can confirm that Mr. Haly speaks the truth. My mom is an interior designer by training, so I spent my childhood surrounded by carpet samples, paint swatches, and piles of upholstery fabric. Of course, Mom re-upholstered many pieces of furniture over the years, and I myself have done the same thing with some of my own furniture.

Mom believes it’s better to restore and re-upholster an old, ripped chair than it is to wastefully throw the whole thing out, and I agree with her. But what about when one wants to do so as eco-consciously as possible?

Mr. Haly’s article consists largely of breaking down the materials and labor costs of producing green-as-possible furniture versus conventionally produced furniture. He does an excellent job of explaining what is and isn’t green, and why what is greenest is apt to be shockingly expensive.

I had a taste of this myself very recently – the seating in the store is finally starting to fade, and a few of the seams are starting to look strained. It’s time to re-upholster.

The logical thing to do was head to Michael Levine in LA (always worth the long drive). I flipped through several books of eco-friendly fabric swatches, looking for the right shade of blue or green, or maybe animal print. I knew eco-friendly fabrics tend to cost more, but when I asked the sales associate for pricing…holy crap.

Upholstery-grade polyester faux suede runs around $18 per yard. Sensuede, a faux suede which is made from recycled and recyclable plastic, can top $80 per yard. Ouch!

And that was one of the LESS costly materials. Some of the printed fabrics I considered topped $124 per yard (of course, they were made from post-industrial waste).

Granted, I’ll save some money by re-upholstering the seats myself (and I’m not opposed to hand-stitching), but still…

Oh, by the way, when you are in LA, do check out Michael Levine’s apparel-fabric store across Maple Avenue (gross-out alert: both stores sell cow hides). Their selection of eco-friendly fabric has expanded considerably in the past year. It started with maybe a dozen bolts of organic cotton in boring, sludgy colors, but now they have cotton, bamboo, Tencel, etc. in a variety of colors and prints. I snatched up some really incredible stuff. (I suspect some of the fabrics might be more greenwashed than green, but considering that the fabric you’ll see in chain fabric stores sure as hell isn’t green at all, this is still progress.) Best of all, eco-friendly apparel fabrics don’t always have the sticker-shock effect that eco-friendly upholstery fabrics do (pricing varied from $8-24 per yard; higher than conventional, but still not too bad).

P.S. If you can afford Sensuede when you are ready to re-upholster that old armchair, it is SO soft, and the colors are absolutely gorgeous.

You Can Lead Horses to Water… October 13, 2009

Actual conversation between myself and a customer (last Friday):

Customer: Hi, do you have any vegan TOMS shoes?

Me: Yes, they’re right over here.

Customer (visibly upset): Are these ALL the colors you have?

Me: This is what was available to us, yes.

Customer (agitated): Don’t they make ANY vegan slip-ons in plain black?

Me: Not at the moment. The only vegan TOMS shoe that comes in black is the wrap boot.

Customer: What about next season? I really want a black slip-on. The boots are way too hot.

Me: Not next season either. We’ve spoken to them about that several times, actually.

Customer: Why don’t they do it?

Me: We’ve asked, but they never answer the question. We could probably sell ten pairs a day if they’d do a solid black vegan slip-on.

Customer: When will some new colors be coming in?

Me: Not until spring, unfortunately.

I didn’t have the heart to tell her that if she didn’t like the khaki and charcoal shoes that were in stock, she probably wasn’t going to like the spring line either. I do not fear color one bit, and my inner five-year-old heartily approves of the blue and purple batik-inspired prints TOMS has chosen for their spring vegan collection, but my outer practical adult is well aware that my customers overwhelmingly prefer black shoes.

As a shoe color, black has every connotation under the sun – saint or sinner, scary rocker or strict schoolmarm, scruffy beatnik or polished fashion editor. It hides dirt, it can be worn with any other color, and a shoe that looks outrageous in red or purple just might be conservative enough for work/traffic court/dinner with Grandma if it is available in black. Simply put, it works for virtually everyone in virtually every situation.

My customers are a highly eclectic lot. They are flight attendants, dental hygienists, math teachers, artist’s models, grandmothers, skater kids, and divorce lawyers. Some of them can get away with wearing colorful footwear whenever they feel like it, but the fact of the matter is, most people need at least one pair of black shoes, and many prefer to have several (i.e. black patent peep-toes for hot dates, matte black ballet flats for the office, and black canvas slip-ons for going to the farmer’s market).

This is especially important to remember when designing with the veg*n community in mind. Many of us don’t make very much money, so when we can only invest in a few good pairs of shoes, we tend to buy basic black.

I’ve written to TOMS about this issue, but ultimately most suppliers make what they want to make. I can only hope they’ll eventually realize the importance of fully understanding a target market’s unique wants and needs.

Lest anyone think I’m trying to pick on TOMS (believe me, I am trying to help them), they are not the only company that hasn’t heeded my advice and most likely won’t be the last.

I told one of my handbag-and-wallet suppliers that my customers disliked the re-designed wallets and wanted the classic versions back. They decided not to take my advice, and I ultimately had to drop their line because they were no longer willing to make what my clientele wanted.

I begged and begged another bag-and-wallet supplier to make some smaller handbags after they only made huge bags for one solid year. At the time, they didn’t respond. They have since realized I was right (along with a large number of other retailers who had the same complaint). Still, it would have been so much easier on my customers and more profitable for the supplier if they had just listened in the first place.

I find that some companies are only responsive when they hear from the consumers directly. Maybe it’ll work with a certain shoe supplier. In any case, it certainly couldn’t hurt to drop TOMS a line if you want them to make a plain black vegan slip-on at some point in the future.

Stella on Fashion and Ethics October 4, 2009

If you haven’t read today’s Guardian interview with Stella McCartney, you’re missing out.

Anyone who even thinks they might want to work in fashion really, really needs to read the article. Especially those who think they might want to hang on to their sense of ethics.

Advice for Would-Be Vegan Designers, Part 6 September 29, 2009

Most of the knowledge and skill that are necessary for a successful design career come from education and hands-on training. Trust me on that.

But, reading a book never hurts. Here are my recommendations for aspiring designers:

Technical books. Reviewing a learned skill is never a bad idea, and may help you understand why your pattern maker is pushing really hard to get you to change something that seems insignificant. Hold on to your design-school textbooks. I still refer to my pattern-making textbook almost every time I whip up a new garment.

Books about the history of fashion. If you are studying fashion, you will most likely have a copy of Survey of Historic Costume by Phyllis Tortora and Keith Eubank. Save that book! Designers have long looked to the past for inspiration; sooner or later you probably will, too. Of course, there are many other books about historical attire, and they’re all worth a look, but Survey of Historic Costume is the big one.

Interested in corsetry? You’ll need Corsets and Crinolines by Norah Waugh.

Chic Savages by John Fairchild. What could a magazine publisher know about fashion? Actually, quite a lot. (Note: though Fairchild has been officially retired for years, it’s long been claimed that W columnist Countess Louise J. Esterhazy is in fact Fairchild himself, and I, for one, suspect the rumor is true.) The book is worth reading for Fairchild’s biting humor alone, though his insights are priceless.

The Beautiful People by Marylin Bender. This book is not easy to find, but well worth the trouble. Bender’s scathing 1967 volume dissects the fashionable jet-set at a time when the Youthquake was still at its peak and Betsey Johnson (only 22 at the time) was the latest super-hot designer. A fascinating glimpse into a key moment in fashion history.

Eccentric Glamour by Simon Doonan. As creative director of Barneys, Doonan knows a thing or two about fashion. Eccentric Glamour is in fact a hilarious, irreverent style guide, but Doonan thoughtfully includes a chapter especially for readers who think they might want to start their own fashion company. (By the way, do take special care to read the “Green Gypsy” profile in Chapter 1. Most of your potential clients will NOT want to wear a burlap tabard.)

Diana Vreeland: Bazaar Years by John Esten. Anyone who even thinks she might want to work in fashion needs to know who Diana Vreeland was and why she was so important. This book is a mere 79 pages long, but offers greater insight into her influence than Mrs. Vreeland’s autobiography (much of which was made-up) and has better pictures. Includes several of her best “Why Don’t You…?” lists from Harper’s Bazaar. I could do without the pictures of Diana in furs (or various recommendations involving the pelts of assorted creatures), but overall, the book is worth a glance.

Deluxe: How Luxury Lost Its Luster by Dana Thomas. Ms. Thomas, a fashion journalist, explores in detail how luxury fashion has changed – and in most cases not for the better. She recounts the birth of luxury-goods groups, the decline of couture, the widespread decline of quality…and even visits the ugly, awful worlds of counterfeiting and sweatshops. If you only read one book on the business end of fashion, make it this one. (The End of Fashion by Teri Agins and Let Them Eat Cake by Pamela N. Danziger are also worth reading, but Deluxe is by far the best of the three.)

The Rise and Fall of the House of Barneys by Joshua Levine. Cautionary tales lie within the pages of this book. If you are planning on selling your goods wholesale instead of running your own shop (online or offline), you MUST read it. Especially Chapter 8.

Cheap: The High Cost of Discount Culture by Ellen Ruppel Shell. Cheap was published very recently, and thoroughly examines the modern American consumer’s obsession with cheap goods. Not about fashion per se, but potentially helpful when designing for a clientele with varying levels of income. (Actually, everyone should read this book. I’ll review it more thoroughly in a future entry.)

My personal fashion library is much more extensive than this, but these are the “must-reads.” I wouldn’t recommend them if I didn’t consider them crucial.