You know how I know? I don’t agree with every point you make and yet I enjoy journeying with you.
That moment with your grandmother and her sisters.
I had just a taste of that old world at my own wedding, in Sudan. Some aunties whisked me to another room, stripped me out of the western lace dress, and dressed me in a thobe and covered me in (mostly fake) gold. Then I was covered completely in a shawl to be “revealed” to my husband (purely symbolic obviously - in this case I’d just left the room he was in 5 minutes before).
I was completely a doll in their hands, loved and special and completely passive for a moment, it was a glimpse into a long deep past.
May 2, 2023·edited May 3, 2023Liked by Leandra Medine Cohen
I always imagined I would visit Paris spontaneously one day inspired by the movie Frances Ha, IYKYK.
How you have described your latest experience reminded me of how I have enjoyed other cities and the joys of just the simple things like walking around, seeing the local haunts/exhibits/culture, going into shops and viewing them in a different way. I agree, there is something special about consumerism in person and seeing how it will intertwine with you directly as opposed to the immediate gratification of scrolling. The way you describe the connection of fashion to the city and it's residents is both at the same time logical and whimsical.
Safe travels my friend. Paris seems magical. Of course. 🙃
The communal shopping is what I miss...I recall going with my mother and grandmother to Loehmann's (now shuttered) and yes, loved the hunt, but loved sharing thoughts and finds in the communal dressing room.
Loved this post and your brilliant insights, as always. I have made a purposeful move away from the corporate machine of fashion namely LVMH the luxury behemoth that feels like the end of something that matters to me. Amazon has certainly changed retail and one could argue, destroyed small business, towns, cities with their get-everything-in-one-place convenience mixed with our increased inability to sustain delayed gratification. With the mass conglomeration of brands whose purpose is to create "desire" (as the Arnaults do so well) I feel dirty and stupid buying their stuff. "Who am I trying to impress?" I ask myself. because so much of the stuff is for signaling purposes. If I sound like "sour grapes" I apologize. I have always loved shopping in a store. I love, as you so beautifully stated, the sensual part of it --seeing and touching garments. i also love engaging with salespeople who often know size and fit and can guide, style, and create. The whole experience is an escape for me from daily life and often the fantasy of "when I wear this..." lifts my mood and creates such titillation and excitement. I do not get this from online shopping where cumbersome, wasteful boxes arrive at my door with stuff that often sucks, makes no sense, or fits poorly. I cannot think of too many pieces "I love" from online shopping although the small titter of "you got a box!" does do something, but it's cheap and fleeting.
I was in Paris last summer and trolled the town for special, small, magical stuff. It was hard to find and impossible to avoid the grotesque LVMH-ing of that beautiful city. Sort of a designer Disney World. I agree that shop windows can be enticing but so often the garments are dull and predictable. Soeur was one of the only standouts for me, aside from the vintage stuff I found, and which was amazing. Soeur's price point is palatable and the garments are lovely. I bought two dresses and a sweater and savored the experience in the shop as well. The salesperson helped me immeasurably and I even bought a piece that I was not inclined to because they said "this one you must get." Oh, the joy of that! I think of this person every time I wear it.
This was such a lovely read. A month ago I went on an in person communal shopping date with two close friends. I ended up spontaneously buying a pair of basic Tods loafers and every time I wear them, I think about that day and my friends. Online shopping sort of robs the sense memory we can develop with clothes that leads to us consuming less.
The homogenization of the world/culture, shopping, dining etc...is really sad. Verbally as a society we claim to value authenticity but what we are consuming doesn’t align with that sentiment, it’s a little bit of “do what I say, not as I do”. Hopefully, quiet luxury will be a much needed reset for culture and not an accelerated death spiral.
P.S. Loved the choker/scarf you bought from Dries, we are honestly so lucky to have him as a designer!
About the dynamic of connection, I have this very personal experience with a specific store back in early 2000. Where I experienced the connection that first the shop has with its products. They know them, they can talk about them and eventually they get to know you, because of all the conversations. And for me this is the real “quiet shopping” (introducing a new take) it is less about the show, the impulsive desire, and more about acknowledging, or a meeting of what can also be described as newly like-minded beings (customer and shop keeper or salesperson). It becomes such a narrow stream yet so rich.
Have you shopped custom before? A friend of mine owns her own small business and hearing her stories about work each day it sounds like a combo of these tenets. Since the work is custom and based on the body of the wearer, there’s a strong sense of connection between designer and shopper, and often my friend ends up acting as therapist. The discovery of trying shapes that perhaps you’d never thought could work for you, a new color, or some sort of plaid that then becomes a workaday item seems to keep people coming back again and again. Then there’s the frivolity of it; the price point is no different from luxury and drinking champagne while designing one on one really spikes the dopamine!
Leandra, reading this post prompted me to think of this custom shop, Watson Ellis. I was wracking my brain trying to think of the last time I felt those feelings. And this shopping experience was it. Felt like sharing. Really loved this read!
Lovely writing Leandra.
You know how I know? I don’t agree with every point you make and yet I enjoy journeying with you.
That moment with your grandmother and her sisters.
I had just a taste of that old world at my own wedding, in Sudan. Some aunties whisked me to another room, stripped me out of the western lace dress, and dressed me in a thobe and covered me in (mostly fake) gold. Then I was covered completely in a shawl to be “revealed” to my husband (purely symbolic obviously - in this case I’d just left the room he was in 5 minutes before).
I was completely a doll in their hands, loved and special and completely passive for a moment, it was a glimpse into a long deep past.
was so happy to read this; just got back from Paris and cannot stop thinking about it and this post warmed my heart!!
I always imagined I would visit Paris spontaneously one day inspired by the movie Frances Ha, IYKYK.
How you have described your latest experience reminded me of how I have enjoyed other cities and the joys of just the simple things like walking around, seeing the local haunts/exhibits/culture, going into shops and viewing them in a different way. I agree, there is something special about consumerism in person and seeing how it will intertwine with you directly as opposed to the immediate gratification of scrolling. The way you describe the connection of fashion to the city and it's residents is both at the same time logical and whimsical.
Safe travels my friend. Paris seems magical. Of course. 🙃
xx
The communal shopping is what I miss...I recall going with my mother and grandmother to Loehmann's (now shuttered) and yes, loved the hunt, but loved sharing thoughts and finds in the communal dressing room.
Loved this post and your brilliant insights, as always. I have made a purposeful move away from the corporate machine of fashion namely LVMH the luxury behemoth that feels like the end of something that matters to me. Amazon has certainly changed retail and one could argue, destroyed small business, towns, cities with their get-everything-in-one-place convenience mixed with our increased inability to sustain delayed gratification. With the mass conglomeration of brands whose purpose is to create "desire" (as the Arnaults do so well) I feel dirty and stupid buying their stuff. "Who am I trying to impress?" I ask myself. because so much of the stuff is for signaling purposes. If I sound like "sour grapes" I apologize. I have always loved shopping in a store. I love, as you so beautifully stated, the sensual part of it --seeing and touching garments. i also love engaging with salespeople who often know size and fit and can guide, style, and create. The whole experience is an escape for me from daily life and often the fantasy of "when I wear this..." lifts my mood and creates such titillation and excitement. I do not get this from online shopping where cumbersome, wasteful boxes arrive at my door with stuff that often sucks, makes no sense, or fits poorly. I cannot think of too many pieces "I love" from online shopping although the small titter of "you got a box!" does do something, but it's cheap and fleeting.
I was in Paris last summer and trolled the town for special, small, magical stuff. It was hard to find and impossible to avoid the grotesque LVMH-ing of that beautiful city. Sort of a designer Disney World. I agree that shop windows can be enticing but so often the garments are dull and predictable. Soeur was one of the only standouts for me, aside from the vintage stuff I found, and which was amazing. Soeur's price point is palatable and the garments are lovely. I bought two dresses and a sweater and savored the experience in the shop as well. The salesperson helped me immeasurably and I even bought a piece that I was not inclined to because they said "this one you must get." Oh, the joy of that! I think of this person every time I wear it.
This was such a lovely read. A month ago I went on an in person communal shopping date with two close friends. I ended up spontaneously buying a pair of basic Tods loafers and every time I wear them, I think about that day and my friends. Online shopping sort of robs the sense memory we can develop with clothes that leads to us consuming less.
The homogenization of the world/culture, shopping, dining etc...is really sad. Verbally as a society we claim to value authenticity but what we are consuming doesn’t align with that sentiment, it’s a little bit of “do what I say, not as I do”. Hopefully, quiet luxury will be a much needed reset for culture and not an accelerated death spiral.
P.S. Loved the choker/scarf you bought from Dries, we are honestly so lucky to have him as a designer!
About the dynamic of connection, I have this very personal experience with a specific store back in early 2000. Where I experienced the connection that first the shop has with its products. They know them, they can talk about them and eventually they get to know you, because of all the conversations. And for me this is the real “quiet shopping” (introducing a new take) it is less about the show, the impulsive desire, and more about acknowledging, or a meeting of what can also be described as newly like-minded beings (customer and shop keeper or salesperson). It becomes such a narrow stream yet so rich.
This one just hit hit. They all do. But I really enjoyed this!
forget Paris come to Warszawa 🖤🕊️
Have you shopped custom before? A friend of mine owns her own small business and hearing her stories about work each day it sounds like a combo of these tenets. Since the work is custom and based on the body of the wearer, there’s a strong sense of connection between designer and shopper, and often my friend ends up acting as therapist. The discovery of trying shapes that perhaps you’d never thought could work for you, a new color, or some sort of plaid that then becomes a workaday item seems to keep people coming back again and again. Then there’s the frivolity of it; the price point is no different from luxury and drinking champagne while designing one on one really spikes the dopamine!
Leandra, reading this post prompted me to think of this custom shop, Watson Ellis. I was wracking my brain trying to think of the last time I felt those feelings. And this shopping experience was it. Felt like sharing. Really loved this read!