Investigating soignée, la bella figura and seny i rauxa: Until moving in with my husband and not insignificantly in Europe, I didn’t recognize how this lack of real study of fashion, and lack of understanding of personal style, has just fed the very hungry cycle- the buying, discarding and buying again- of fast fashion, until living with my now husband.
I don’t want to paint my husband as some uber-creative type or a design philosopher, but rather, I think he’s partly a product of his environment, and of a culture that treats fashion more slowly, as worthy of study, that is still found to some extent in Latin countries (Spain, Italy, France). I’m going to venture into a bit of stereotyping in order to make my point because I do think there’s a cultural current here and in hopes that investigating it can lead to some solutions for our current fast fashion epidemic, I will indulge in the typecasting.
Fast shoppers
Most of us have been groomed to become fast fashion shoppers. Not all of us arrive at the state of buying “carrier bags full” of cheap clothing every week- as the current phenomenon was described to me by industry consultant Kate Fletcher-, but given the way most of us learn to view shopping and clothing, it’s no surprise so many of us have become so quickly seduced by cheap clothing (the average lifespan of an article of fast clothing- from stores like H&M, Primarks, Target, etc.- has been estimated at about 6 months, and most of that discarded goes to the landfill).
Even those of us who think we know better, can’t seem to avoid the ease of fast fashion. Today, after explaining to a friend the Slow Fashion concept of buying less, but spending more money for quality items that last, she said, “Oh yeah, I’m trying to do more of that. But then when I see a $100 price tag on a pair of pants, it just seems like too much because I’m afraid they might not work out and I know I can buy pants for $20 at Old Navy.”
I am also guilty of buying cheap as a sort of insurance policy in case things don’t work out, and while I don’t buy much clothing and most if it is secondhand, I still have the fast fashion mentality: making mostly cheap purchases as a way to avoid taking the time to make a real decision about a piece of clothing. While fashion is a type of- albeit functional- art or design, it’s somehow become disconnected from the rest of the genre: no one would buy a cheaper painting “in case it doesn’t work out in the living room”, but somehow it’s okay to treat fashion as frivolous.
We fast fashionistas either disregard fashion as a waste of time- for me it was an idea inherited from my very New England mother whose more Puritanical perspective was that shopping and discussion of clothing should be avoided at all costs- or we treat it as something that can be copied from magazines or celebrities. Both attitudes trivialize the art, and both make us beholden to the action.
A Slow Wardrobe: no mistakes
Until moving in with my husband and not insignificantly in Europe, I didn’t recognize how this lack of real study of fashion, and lack of understanding of personal style, has just fed the very hungry cycle- the buying, discarding and buying again- of fast fashion, until living with my now husband. My first insight into our sartorial divide occurred early on in our relationship when I coerced him into helping me clean out my wardrobe.
When he laughed at a pair of plastic- and objectively quite ugly- shoes, I defended this very cheap purchase with the comment “I just don’t like fashion”. He responded with a comment like “that’s not possible” as if something were lost in translation or as if I’d just announced, “I don’t like food”.
My husband isn’t a clothes horse, but his relationship with clothing is fundamentally different from mine and from what I’m used to seeing: he doesn’t own a lot, he doesn’t mind spending $100 on a linen t-shirt and he doesn’t have any “mistakes” in his wardrobe. Lest you think I consider him a fashion god, let me clarify the term “mistake”: while he may own pieces others don’t deem fashionable, he wears everything he owns because he likes what he buys.
His closet is simply a reflection of the way he shops, and he shops slowly. I’m not talking about speed, but about his mindset. He purchases clothing as if selecting a new pet. He might see something on the street that catches his eye- not because everyone has it, but because he reacts to it positively. From here he perhaps does a bit of research online or in magazines to see who makes it, how its made, etc.
When he finally enters a store- my first step in the shopping process-, he’s ready to make his purchase (after trying it on for size).
His purchases are studied and thought out before being seduced by the music and lights of the shops. I’ve never seen him buy something because “it’s a good deal”- at least in the traditional sense of being inexpensive- he’s never gone to a store because they were having a sale.
With his method of shopping the store experience doesn’t drive his purchases, so he’s well-protected against impulse buys. I’ve never once heard him say “Why did I buy this?” or not wear one of his purchases.
Things last in his wardrobe and he doesn’t need to buy often since he wears what he does buy, so the turnover in his wardrobe is very infrequent, in other words, he has a “Slow Wardrobe”.
In the same way Slow Food is not just a rejection of fast food, his way of shopping is not simply about rejecting fast fashion or slowing down the purchasing process. It begins with the way he views fashion, or perhaps the way he doesn’t keep it separate from the rest of life (“wardrobe therapy”, etc).
Within his worldview, it’s only natural that clothing, food, music, art, architecture, cities, and all aspects of our lives should be well-designed, should be beautiful. He doesn’t see these designable elements as apart from our lives- that there should be a choice whether you choose to “get into art”, “get into fashion”, etc, but it’s something that is self-evident for a rich life because this is where life happens.
“The difference between style and fashion is quality.”
I don’t want to paint my husband as some uber-creative type or a design philosopher, but rather, I think he’s partly a product of his environment, and of a culture that treats fashion more slowly, as worthy of study, that is still found to some extent in Latin countries (Spain, Italy, France). I’m going to venture into a bit of stereotyping in order to make my point because I do think there’s a cultural current here and in hopes that investigating it can lead to some solutions for our current fast fashion epidemic, I will indulge in the typecasting.
Obviously, there is plenty of fast fashion in Southern Europe- Zara and Mango are both Spanish-owned- and the concept itself was initially developed to serve trend-obsessed French teen girls, but there seems to be an, at least, historical difference in the way Latin societies view fashion. Perhaps it’s rooted in the way all art seems less detached from everyday life and beauty can be, and should be, found in even the most functional items.
Designer Carlo Brandelli, winner of the British Menswear Guild’s Menswear Designer of the Year for 2005, explains how Italians look for beauty everywhere. “Understanding beauty and design comes from my Italian roots: that appreciation for la bella figura. You can see a car, house, clothes, even a dish, and just know it’s correct. I try to find that beauty in anything.”
“La bella figura”, directly translated as “cutting a fine figure”, is the Italian preoccupation with making a good impression, and in Italy- where style is such a part of everyday life that even the police wear Armani (he designed the summer uniforms of the Carabinieri corps)-, this means focusing more on classics than on constantly-changing trends.
Giorgio Armani describes this distinction as such: “the difference between style and fashion is quality.”
For Italian-American author Gay Talese- who describes a preoccupation with la bella figura, as well as his appreciation of fine tailoring, as a part of his Italian heritage-, a fine suit is a work of art: “Well-tailored clothing is a celebration of precision. When I’m wearing one of my custom suits, I’m in harmony with my highest ideals, my worship of great workmanship.”
An appreciation of quality and workmanship describes not only residents of Italy, but also of France and Spain where there is a long history of small, local, quality artisanal clothing boutiques. While some of the small town dressmakers are disappearing the appreciation of quality still lingers.
Stylish French women know their own “brand” DNA
In France, they have their own set of tools- should they choose to use them- that can be used as armor against fast fashion: this same preoccupation with quality coupled with a knowledge of one’s personal style.
As Nathalie Rykiel- daughter of designer Sonya Rykiel – explained to the Associated Press, this self-understanding helps to prevent mass-mimicking of the latest fads. “French women don’t try to look like anyone else other than themselves. They know who they are and make the most of what they have.”
Mireille Guiliano, author of the book Parisienne, explains that for French women “style is personal” and while finding one’s look takes some searching, once found, they capitalize on it rather than follow trends. “Stylish French women know their own ‘brand’ DNA and work it.”
It’s telling that for stylish French women the goal isn’t to look fashionable, but instead to appear soignée.
Guiliano describes the term as “pulled together”. When I looked it up online, I found definitions like “well-groomed” and “sophisticated elegance” and when applied to architecture “carefully built, carefully designed” which seemed to sum up Slow Design.
There’s no hurried shopping sprees or impulse buys behind this type of studied elegance.
Guiliano describes the French woman’s wardrobe as built on a few essentials– a little black dress, a classic suit, a nice blouse, a cashmere sweater and scarves-: “to me, those are the essentials, foundation tools upon which to build your distinctive identity with a little of this or that.”
Traditionally, “a little this and that” has been high quality, and expensive, lasting items like an Hermes scarf or a Birkin bag.
Perhaps this tradition is rooted in the idea, as stated by Yves Saint Laurent, that “fashions fade, style is eternal” or maybe it’s simply due to the Gallic protection from the quickly changing vagaries of celebrity worship in the US and UK. As Bourjois cosmetics spokeswoman Celine Kaplan explained to the AP, “We don’t have yet the ‘celebrity’ culture, so fashion and style isn’t dictated by celebrities who sometimes don’t have the right taste levels.” Or who are constantly changing styles.
Seny i rauxa in Barcelona: the classics, plus a bit of madness
In Spain, fashion isn’t dictated by celebrities, but here even the bullfighters are well-dressed. Last year, Armani chose celebrity torero Cayetano Rivera as his male icon for the season.
In Catalonia (the region of Spain of which Barcelona is the capital), I would argue that the regional character traits of seny and rauxa offer a bit of balance to any Catalan’s wardrobe. Seny/rauxa, these co-existing qualities, have been defined as:
- reason/emotion
- wisdom/craziness
- thought out/impulsive
- planning/improvisation
- common sense/madness (or “a wild Dalí-like creativity“, according to the New York Times)
Catalans are known for their common sense- they have a stereotype for being frugal-, as well as for exhibiting streaks of madness, as witnessed in famous Catalan artists like Dalí and the Barcelona architect Gaudi (most famous for the Sagrada Familia cathedral which has been under construction for over 100 years and will be for at least another 100).
In fashion, the wild colors and fabrics of Custo Barcelona hint at a type of rauxa while seny and rauxa seem in equal measure with designers like Josep Font.
While the rauxa of Custo can feel overwhelming when viewed outside a shop window, this impulsiveness calls for seny, or planning, from any Catalan.
These multi-colored, bold-patterned looks are treated as accent pieces, a piece of rauxa (improvisation) in a mostly seny (planned) wardrobe.
My husband has one Custo shirt and I hated it when I first saw it hanging in his closet, but when he puts it together with jeans and a well-tailored suit coat, it adds variety to his mostly classic wardrobe (though one not necessarily of Southern Europe origin: he’s a fan of British designer Paul Smith and New Yorker John Varvatos, and in the past couple years I have introduced him to a few pieces of Patagonia for more everyday wear).
Slow clothing in back alleys: boina fashion and Barrio Gotico
In many ways, my husband is a strange choice of subject for a blog about fashion: it’s not a topic he discusses often (though when pressed he named Gianni Agnelli, “L’Avvocato”, as his idea of a well-dressed public figure) and he rarely shops (neither my husband nor I have added to our wardrobes since our wedding in June of 2006 when he wore his Paul Smith suit and I a classic sundress by Barcelona label Ailanto that I insisted he help me pick out), but I do think he has a sense of his “brand DNA”.
This confidence in his individual style, as well as his appreciation of quality and the natural integration of fashion within his life are his tools for building a Slow Wardrobe.
Today, walking the streets of Barcelona I passed yet another Zara under construction, a few doors down from another one doing brisk business, and I wondered if my husband is part of a rapidly disappearing past, akin to the old men you see throughout Spain who still dress up daily in a suit and boina (beret).
There are certainly many in this part of the world who have been seduced by fast fashion (and plenty use Zara and H&M as therapy), but just as I began really questioning whether I’ve been indulging in a bit too much nostalgia or stereotyping too widely, I turned down a small street in the Barrio Gotico and heard the clicking of a sewing machine- one of those small designers you can find here who actually sew the clothes they sell- and hope returned.
It was here that a couple years ago while looking for a video story, I stumbled upon Oscar Grand and his sastrería, or “tailor’s shop”.
To me, Grand is a creator of “Slow Clothing”: he makes his suits, shirts and pants by hand and he attends to every client personally. He’s not part of a trend- I’m not sure if he’s even aware of the Slow Movement-, and when asked about his artisanal methods, he talked about them as though they were customary. Though he did admit, “the more freedom I have, the better my work“.
My husband wore a pair of Oscar’s pants to my brother’s wedding. When he bought them, I thought the mix of a conservative wool plaid with a very nontraditional drop-crotch design was too rauxa.
But my husband has made them another wardrobe classic. I shouldn’t have worried. After all, he knows his brand DNA. And if he had made a mistake, Oscar is the type of tailor who would know how to fix it.