Buy and Hold: Same style, and how low to go?
I needed, absolutely, a striped tee to wear under an olive jacket that Gisele gave me; she continues to prune mercilessly, turning a walk-in closet into a work space. A month of thrifting had not delivered the ochre or cinnamon stripe I had in mind, so I looked online.
Mr. Warren Buffet, my fantasy fashion coach, dropped by, just when I needed him. He looked over my shoulder to see me eyeing Massimo Alba's pristinely chic clothes. The "Hydra" oversized cotton/linen tee (made in Italy), usually $CDN 390, was on sale for $234.
Mr. B: "That's for the whole outfit, right?" I replied, "No, non lo è!"
I showed him three more-affordable versions:
1. Kotn Easy Crew tee in brindle and marshmallow, at the time, reduced from $40 to $28. Cotton, made in Egypt from "ethical producers."
2. Amor Lux short-sleeved Breton tee in curry. Cotton, made in France. Price, €34; I know these fit me well. But, ouch: shipping, duties and a brutal currency exchange rate just now.
3. Uniqlo mini-stripe cotton tee in beige. Cotton/spandex; specific country of production not disclosed but they say they manufacture their tees in China and Vietnam. Price, $20.
Since I made that no-fast-fashion pledge in June, the Uniqlo is not on the menu, but I wanted to show him the price differences. I wondered, "Is there always a better-priced alternative for high-end pieces?" He replied with a question: "Do you require 'the best'?"
I said that the Kotn tee would be all right for me. Mr. B. calls that concept satisficing: making the decision that yields an acceptable result rather than the perfect solution. Having been hijacked by the concept of perfection back in the day and then not wearing that ideal (and usually pricey) confection much, we agreed that not always getting what you want is just fine. The Stones were right: If you try sometimes, you just might find you get what you need.
Mr. B. says that eventually nearly all goods go on sale—the apparel industry overproduces by 30-40% each season. He mentioned Fetchie, an app you can set to alert you to reductions for specific items—cool!
Fetchie is especially useful when you've found "blue chip" brands that deliver durability, fit and pleasure—but if you buy, Mr. B. reminds me, don't fall into shopping with Princess Dollars. (Example: A $500 jacket is marked down to $300, so you buy it and then figure you have $200 to spend on shoes.)
My friend Barbara thinks that analyzing the value proposition is pointless. She says there's only ever one criterion: Will it take ten pounds off?
Update: If I have to buy item B to make item A work, and neither are things I would chose myself, I'm on a fool's errand. Gisele approved of us donating the jacket to a charity shop. When we went there, she found a small beveled-glass tray for her cosmetics, and I scooped up new spice jars. The Universe has nodded its thanks.
Comments
Going From Royal Gowns to Uniqlo https://www.nytimes.com/2024/10/17/style/clare-waight-keller-uniqlo-givenchy.html?unlocked_article_code=1.UE4.WO1Z.eBFryE8xiPMA
However, reduction in drops is not the sole criterion, and when I picked up a very good-looking shirt from their Jil Sander collab only to find it could be neither dry cleaned nor washed (even by hand) that did it for me. "What am I supposed to do when this is dirty?", I asked the sales associate. He replied, "I don't know." I'm also cynical about a consignment store's picks; the ones here are not motivated by environmental concerns, but by what sells. I respect Waight Keller's credentials and subscribe to the NYT, and am still not buying Uniqlo—except for Heat-Tech underwear, because yes, I am a hypocrite.