LOST IN LOGO LAND



 

We are usually drawn to the ‘bright and the beautiful’ and taste palettes are known to be as rich and diverse as the varied cultures surrounding us. We are after all living in a vibrant society with vibrant beings. A mixed bag we certainly are but it is when the bags start being one’s identity that amusement levels rise up!

Recalling, the nursery rhyme with the line, “rings on her fingers and bells on her toes, she shall have music wherever she goes,” we are now being inexplicably bombarded with logos on any surface that is available, so that ‘she or he can have branding wherever they go!’ If one looks at ‘branding’ in its most practical form it was for cattle, so that cows and bulls could be easily identified as livestock belonging to a certain farmer or farm. This horrendous practice was simply a form of identification for the herd. Has much changed?

The 1970’s saw Calvin Klein and Gloria Vanderbilt slapping their names on jeans, which until then was considered too ‘workman oriented,’ but suddenly became equated with youth and desire. The same went into overdrive in the 80’s and 90’s with pop sensations and Wall Street types buying into the mantra of ‘if you’ve got it flaunt it,’ with big cars, big hair, big brands subliminally equating big money! The ‘more is more’ M.O was blatant and lauded, but as we swung into the minimalist millennium the signs, or logos of the times were changing.

I was a true devotee of Louis Vuitton and started my monogram canvas journey with the basics of the Speedy, the keep-all Bandouliere, and the reporter bags. This was in the 90’s as a newly minted twenty something year old fashion graduate who reveled in the ability to buy into a prestigious 150-year-old brand. Being a design history brat also meant that I loved the fact that Audrey Hepburn made the ‘Speedy’ her must have from the LV range and being a fan I too felt a connection. As Marc Jacobs worked his magic and collaborated with the artistic likes of Murakami, the bags began to take on a ‘loud and proud’ brashness that was my point of exit from this fascination. As times evolved and the world seemed to be going from one earth shattering eventful change to the next, consumers also seemed to ride the evolutionary wave.

We all noticed that it was the blinged and grilled rappers, the newly contracted ballers and their entourages, the Oligarchs and their concubines, along with the beneficiaries of the bubbles (real estate, dot.com etc.) who were becoming members of the ‘loud logo league.’ Living in Los Angeles, I suddenly noticed my aversion to the loud was also part of an under current that embraced ‘being’ and while we certainly loved the entertainment of the ‘louder the better gang’ they somehow seemed disconnected from reality. Casually, thrown together was the way of the style world, and contrived brand obsessions seemed sadly and badly dated. The Balenciaga Motor Cycle bag, with not a logo in sight, which I carried while walking down 9th street to my design office in downtown LA, was also a go to for Nicole Richie, who was as bohemian as the eponymous rhapsody composed by Queen! Casual chic was certainly where the tide was taking us. 

 

Fast forward a decade or two and the logos do still have a time and a place, but when it is the very essence of one’s social system, watery itchy eyes for the onlookers is the result! In our resplendent isle, I am seeing men with every letter of the alphabet boldly emblazoned on saucer size buckles that adorn their belts reminiscent of the letter blocks we played with at Montessori. This carries over to the lovely ladies as well with bags that literally scream ‘logo, logo, logo,’ while not forgetting that the logo emblazoned fabrics looking like gift-wrapping paper from the brands boutiques, are hilariously transformed by tailors into every possible garment! Those who know what the brands actually sell, and what is really available in their boutiques, cringe at this spectacle since in these situations reality is as removed as authenticity. 

When logos drip from ears, necks, shoes bags, belts, and every other conceivable appendage, ‘drastically disturbing,’ are the only words that come to mind. Everything also seems to be consistently new, where the slightest wear signals discarding. What happened to having a patina, to having pieces that tell a story, or with accessories that have character? Leaving aside the global pavement peddlers who supply many socialites with her luscious logos, the fact that one craves constant upgrades is sad in itself! It could be a lack of truly definitive red-carpet events, or maybe a deep sense of insecurity and identity crisis that drives these crass coquettes to want to be identified by any name they wear, but their own. When the requisite photo ops present themselves, the purse moves forward ensuring the logos are front and center! What point is there in having anything if the logo is not seen?

Authenticity, is something I adore, and also have worked on keeping in the many spheres of my life. Mixing and matching no name or name, makes no difference because it is the person who matters. I have many dear friends worldwide who would wear a high street blouse with a fabulous vintage jewelry piece that would be the financial equivalent of an abundant oil field in Kuwait! Secure in who they are, what they wear simply adds dimension and depth, not definition!

As I sweat through my treadmill, run my weathered and worn Yves Saint Laurent Muse bag, with not a name in sight, gets thrown about, stuffed with my iPad, gym towel, water bottle, reading glasses, hand sanitizer, etc. whether I get it even dirtier or not, it is just a bag, and I believe that anything we have should be an extension of our lives. Everyone should be able to be their own ‘style selves’, as all these are simply ideas and opinions. Subtlety, can be wonderfully enriching, while understated cannot be underestimated. Cultivating oneself is always an awesome pathway to travel, because logos may come and go but life is to be lived, and it is you and truly you, who will remain. 



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