Fashion, globalisation and why I’m bringing down civilisation!
July 16th, 2008 at 18:11
I’m afraid to report that I think that I might be a threat to the very survival of civilisation as we know it. I’m sorry – I’m trying my best not to, it’s not deliberate. I’m not trying to blow anything up, or start any wars or anything like that – I’m not going out of my way to bring an end to civilisation – in fact, I really quite like the way things are.
I think I’m a threat to civilisation though because I’m not doing my duty and participating in applying the glue that holds society together: fashion.
I’m not really into clothes shopping – though I guess this doesn’t sound terribly surprising as I’m a man – but I assure you that I’m really not into clothes shopping. I really struggle with the concept of replacing the things I own for no reason other than that they are no longer trendy (though an upgrade would be a different matter). Case in point, for the past five years I’ve really worn nothing other than black t-shirts with punk logos on – without paying much attention to what other people wear. This is presumably because my inner-teenager is totally individual and is totally sticking it to the man, man.
I should probably explain why this makes me a threat to civilisation. This isn’t some sort of ego-trip on my part (though I am brilliant), nor am I about to announce that I literally have earth-shattering superpowers (however much I wish I did), and can hold the world to ransom – I’m a threat because the whims of fashion and our constant consumption of new stuff – are what keeps the wheels of capitalism turning. And if those wheels are turning, economic activity spreads around the world to all of the factories, suppliers and everyone in between, and so on. And if we have strong economic ties to another country, it makes war and conflict with that country much more difficult – because obviously if you try to blow a bit of it up, you risk blowing up your own stuff too, costing you money. It is essentially the same principle that American writer Thomas Friedman uses to explain why no two countries that both have McDonalds restaurants ever gone to war – not because the people in the two countries are too fat and unhealthy to run about with guns, but because they risk hurting their own business interests.
So by me not spending all of my money on new clothes in the pursuit of satisfying the psychological disorder known as fashion, I’m indirectly responsible for making war between Britain and, say, China, more and more likely.
“But James, are you therefore advocating, by extension, the continuation of the systematic exploitation of millions of poor workers in the third world in the interest of stability?”, I’d very much hope you were asking.
“It, er, seems like I am”, I’d reply, as bewildered by my own logic as much as you are.
I think the conclusion this week is that I’m not only a threat to civilisation, but I’m also, apparently, an uncaring monster.
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