True, Mr. Perrin owns the company that owns Cartier, but really, we all know that the Fashion and Luxury businesses are not the dictatorships they once were. The internet has allowed people like yours truly to become educated in all things fashion and luxury-- even if I can't afford to shop at Chanel and Cartier, I can afford to read all the critique on their lines and to see them for myself on their websites and on the runway (thank you style.com, nymag.com, wwd.com, etc).
The following is an excerpt from today's New York Times Business section, Luxury Brands and the Case for $4000 Sunglasses, By ERIC PFANNER (http://www.nytimes.com/2009/11/19/business/global/19lux.html?ref=business)
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Not everyone in the luxury goods business sees technology as a revolutionary — or even recent — influence.
Alain Dominique Perrin, executive director of Richemont, which owns jewelry and watch brands like Cartier, Jaeger-LeCoultre and Piaget, said Swiss watchmakers had always embraced advanced technology in manufacturing.
But he questioned the durability of any change in cultural perceptions of luxury. While the company’s brands have integrated technology in some unusual ways — a new watch from Jaeger LeCoultre, for example, doubles as a car key fob — Mr. Perrin said he saw little similarity between a fine Swiss watch and some arriviste icons of the technology world.
“To me, these products are worlds apart,” he said. “Who would consider handing down an iPhone, or even a Swatch, to their child or grandchild?”
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Reading the end of this article made me a little mad at the snobbery of Mr. Alain Dominique Perrin. Who is he to say what a luxury good is?
Luxury goods are the goods that people most want. In the past when the population at large was forced to look to the sky for the time of day, or to the church bells, it was a luxury to have a timepiece on one’s body. Thus, the watch became a luxury item. This tradition has carried over into the new millennium; however, as technology brings about new products, that which is considered luxury will change. In a time when the timepiece was the luxury, they were made extremely durable, and handed down from fathers to sons. Once they had perfected keeping time there wasn’t a need to improve upon them. Thus one timepiece could be handed down through generations.
In today’s world, luxury is still that which most people want. Information is the biggest commodity, and so to have internet on one's cell phone, to have perfect connectivity, lightning speed, and a user friendly interface is a luxury. To know in advance where the pile-up is, so one can avoid the traffic and get home in time for dinner-- this is a luxury. Who is Mr. Perrin to say it is not? True, an iPhone cannot be handed down generations, but why would your grandchildren want your iPhone? In sixty years there will be something that is better, and so the iPhone will become obsolete.
Now this is not to say that technology is incapable of creating something that lasts. Take the example of Oakley’s $4000 sunglasses. Ninety-six hours of labor are put into making a single pair. They are specially designed, and made from the same materials that make up race cars. Now, please tell me that you think that given the same care that you give your grandfather's pocket watch, these won’t last to be handed down to your grandchildren.
*Please note, I robbed this post from another blog I am a part of: pearlsandabaseballhat.blogspot.com -- but I authored it there too... soo...
The First Impression Is
Friday, November 20, 2009
What does it mean to be shallow?
Like clockwork every few weeks or so I have an existential crisis about who I am. My father is an oncologist—cancer doctor, and he and my mother run a laboratory that everyday saves people’s lives. My sister does stem-cell research, and is going to medical school next fall. My boyfriend is working to save the planet through bio-fuels, and of my friends, two are teachers, one is a Marine, one is in the Navy, and one works in state politics.
Me, I like clothes. I love clothes. I love how you can completely change the world’s perception of you just by changing your outfit. I love coming up with new ways to wear a piece I own, and picking through thrift stores to rediscover old looks. I love sewing and designing things especially for me. I like to read about new developments in fashion. I like to be up to date on which companies are having success in this recession. I like to research their business strategies. I like to know who is going to fold, and who is able to expand even in a recession. I enjoy picking apart an ad campaign—reading between the lines to discover who has an excess in inventory and who just needs to get people into their stores. I like to guess what a given strategy is going to do to the overall image of a brand—whether the company is seeing the big picture and cares about longevity and not just about the sales it makes today. That this is my passion make me a shallow person?
Some days I think I should have taken the job researching apparel and footwear companies for investment purposes, but the problem is that I don’t want to be on the outside looking in. I want to be the one making the deals, making the fashion call, making the decision about the direction of the business. I want to lead the industry from the inside and not from the sidelines.
In the world we live in, first impressions are everything and nothing. They are nothing in that they are often wrong, but everything in that they can get you a job or shown the door, and seat on the bus, a husband and wife, a friend—and that they are the hardest impression to every change. Is wanting to work in an industry that has this power—really more power than any other (but this is a discussion for a later post) – shallow? Sure, I will never save anyone’s physical life, but what is life without happiness? And what if I can help people achieve more happiness through the clothes they wear? Is that shallow?
Me, I like clothes. I love clothes. I love how you can completely change the world’s perception of you just by changing your outfit. I love coming up with new ways to wear a piece I own, and picking through thrift stores to rediscover old looks. I love sewing and designing things especially for me. I like to read about new developments in fashion. I like to be up to date on which companies are having success in this recession. I like to research their business strategies. I like to know who is going to fold, and who is able to expand even in a recession. I enjoy picking apart an ad campaign—reading between the lines to discover who has an excess in inventory and who just needs to get people into their stores. I like to guess what a given strategy is going to do to the overall image of a brand—whether the company is seeing the big picture and cares about longevity and not just about the sales it makes today. That this is my passion make me a shallow person?
Some days I think I should have taken the job researching apparel and footwear companies for investment purposes, but the problem is that I don’t want to be on the outside looking in. I want to be the one making the deals, making the fashion call, making the decision about the direction of the business. I want to lead the industry from the inside and not from the sidelines.
In the world we live in, first impressions are everything and nothing. They are nothing in that they are often wrong, but everything in that they can get you a job or shown the door, and seat on the bus, a husband and wife, a friend—and that they are the hardest impression to every change. Is wanting to work in an industry that has this power—really more power than any other (but this is a discussion for a later post) – shallow? Sure, I will never save anyone’s physical life, but what is life without happiness? And what if I can help people achieve more happiness through the clothes they wear? Is that shallow?
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