Cost, worth and sex

As a fashion student we are encouraged to visit certain places in London. Museums, theatres, restaurants and even department stores. We have to immerse ourselves in the culture we are claiming to know so well that we can write convincingly about it. It is very difficult to profess to know about the v&a when you don’t know where it is let alone seen the latest exhibit. The same is to be said for designer clothes. The age old debate in fashion of cost versus worth is a constant in the hearts and minds of us mere consumers. It wasn’t until I went to Dover street market and saw a body con Alaia dress up close that it finally clicked for me. It was so thick and structured it felt like a piece of armour. It was heavy and majestic and it literally quietened my cynical mind. The craftsmanship was so evident every stitch promised to live up to its hefty price tag. There was no comparison to a highstreet knock off-this was the real deal, the reason people all over the world from all walks of life pay crazy amounts of money for one item of clothing. Worth.

Our greed for branded items is indicative to our 21st century way of thinking- high cost means high worth. A friend recently got a Mulberry bag for her birthday-retail cost close to £700, to her it is priceless. Some may scoff and see it as a ridiculous expense; others view it as an investment. How curious. The debate between cost and worth exists for everyone whether it’s your Dad wondering whether to invest in a mac, your Mum questioning buying a motorised golf bag or your little brother scrimping his pennies together to buy an xbox. Without questioning craftsmanship or quality we see a higher number on the price tag and are reassured. On the highstreet a funny polar opposite occurs. When you shop in Reiss and see a dress for £120 I think about it. When I see a similar dress in Oasis for £40 you buy it, immediately. This could be the student mindset but surely when you think about it the silk, lined, dip dyed dress in Reiss surely is worth the extra money than the flimsy Oasis replica no?

It was also in Dover Street Market that I saw Lanvin and Erdem up close. The difference in seeing the clothes online and holding them in your hands is staggering. I was silenced by their spectacular feel and construction and surprisingly weight. Most of the items were heavy on the hanger, especially the Erdem dresses, not so heavy you would buckle under the weight of them of course. I doubt his vision is women all over the globe plummeting into a floral heap as soon as they zip up. I mean heavy in comparison to a high street item. You can feel how much work has gone into each piece and when you see them up close they are so beautiful your mind starts rationalising the cost. “I can live off beans for the rest of the month. Doesn’t my sister owe me money? I can cancel my gym membership- if I’m not eating I won’t get fat anyway. If I don’t go out for three months I will lose more weight and not spend money on drinks and be so bored I’ll have to do all those assignments. Oh my god this dress is going to make me skinny and get me an A-SOLD!

If you’re not a designer obsessive who quite literally funds their habit with a borderline beans disorder your reason for thinking could be far more primitive. Base human nature means that men and women will always want flash, branded items. And why so, you ponder? Sex.

Scott Galloway, an NYU professor who studies luxury marketing explains. “As long as men feel the need to spread their DNA to the four corners of the earth, they’re going to but Porsches” he says. We are but players in a mating game called life. Louboutins’ and Rolexes are our props and the price tags pale in insignificance to reeling a worthy partner in. A primal thought for most, but next time you buy the higher priced item ask yourself-what is this worth to me?