Individuality lost in a sea of 'bespoke' goods

A jeans collection and its curator. PHOTO/FILE

Last week I wrote about the modern quest for authenticity and the next day I saw a media promo for a new sports shoe that has fake mud painted on it so the wearer can look like they have been out doing something in the great outdoors rather than watching actions replays on the sofa.

Alongside this advanced example of factory fakery we also have a penchant for things to be marketed as "bespoke". The word used to mean "of goods, especially clothing, made to order". (Oxford Dictionary definition).

What was once a trade-specific description of craftsmanship and skill is now a term that is bandied about to describe all manner of things such as beer, cars, furniture, yoga mats, funerals, weddings and pets.

This is presumably to appeal to that part of human nature that wants to appear to have something no one else has that will make us even more unique than we already are. The ability to generate some bespoke iconic uniqueness has so captured public imagination that in the mad rush to get some, we have all lost our individuality. (Unique, along with iconic, have now become so overworked that both words need to take some time off to recover their meanings.)

If we are too busy to get to this task, we can now arrange for our entire lifestyles to be curated. I know this is usually what happens in galleries and museums but now it seems everything needs to be curated. I am surprised that there has not been a move to curate kisses, or perhaps that is still in the design stage.

There certainly is a place for the carefully created, boutique, bespoke designer kisses to be crafted on to iconic and unique lips. Kisses are free; they come in all shapes and sizes and simply require two consenting adults.

There is the gentle tender version, best done under subdued lighting, and then the kind where recipient and giver need oxygen afterwards so they don't faint.

There are ads extolling the authenticity of products in which retailers describe how they "curate" their wares. It is not clear what exactly this means. Stores sell "curated" collections of jeans. What seems a simple task to the uninitiated - the blue ones in one pile, the black in another with bright colours put where they will not startle unsuspecting customer - is clearly a complex art. I note that this curating does not usually extend to providing some background information on where the jeans were made, the hourly rate, the age and working conditions of those who made them.. That might create a bespoke moral resistance to some labels and is not a fashion notion the industry would want "trending" in the marketplace.

Final note: Victoria University - the advice to young women to carry a whistle and wear running shoes to escape a potential rapist missed a critical but solid sartorial tip: wear shoes with steel toe caps to provide plenty of metal when dispensing the classic kick to the groin.

Understandably many students are upset at the running shoes idea.

As they rightly note, the risk of rape is created by the offender. It has nothing to do with what a potential victim might be wearing.

It would have made more sense for the university to distribute running shoes and whistles to the police to assist them in arresting the offender or set up a joint strategy to make the streets and pathways of the city safe for women.

Terry Sarten is a Whanganui based writer, musician and satirista from way back - feedback: tgs@inspire.net.nz