Abu Dhabi’s recent fashion week has ended, but it’s worth musing over what it takes to break into fashion’s big four: Paris, Milan, London, New York. Can Abu Dhabi make the leap from star consumer to hotbed of creative geniuses such as Coco Chanel?
Who could have predicted that an orphaned peasant girl would grow up to employ thousands of people, counting among her employees no-less than a grand duchess? So reads the rags-to- riches legend of Mademoiselle Gabrielle Chanel.
The designs of Chanel are still with us more than 40 years after her death, and her austere minimalism is today frequently juxtaposed against the luxurious backdrop of the UAE’s spectacular mallscape. Chanel’s 2.55 handbag, with its once innovative chain strap, is ubiquitous. In terms of brand recognition, the interlinking Cs of the Chanel logo are instantly recognisable.
But what makes the allure of the leading fashion houses so strong? Is there really a touch of genius in the design, are these "gifted creatives" actually able to commune with the zeitgeist, divining the collective sartorial aspirations of the masses? Certainly Chanel did not think so, She saw herself more as a fashion dictator, suggesting to one of her biographers that: "These women, I'm going to dress them in black ... I imposed black".
But perhaps it is the personal myth of the designer that imbues their creations with the fetishistic magic so often associated with high fashion. Certainly Chanel’s own myth is a powerful tale of transformation: a narrative of triumph over adversity, enfolding a tragic subplot of love lost, and boasting a fairy tale cast of thousands, including Stravinsky, Dali and Picasso. Chanel herself suggested that in purchasing her creations, women became “privileged characters who are incorporated into our legend. For them this is a far greater pleasure than ordering another suit”.
Fashionologists have traditionally proposed the trickle down theory of fashion. This theory argues that the driving forces of fashion are imitation and differentiation.
In short, one strata of society speaks of its higher status through its dress and accessories, these styles trickle down to the lower strata who attempt to imitate them in the name of upwards social mobility. The lower strata’s imitation, however, causes the higher strata to reinvent its costumes, thereby reasserting social distinction. This is the eternal cycle of imitation and differentiation we call fashion, and it is easy to understand why economists have long referred to fashion as “capitalism’s favourite child”. A pair of sturdy boots might last forever, but fashions forever change.
Yuniya Kawamura, associate professor of sociology at the Fashion Institute of Technology in New York, argues that for all of this to work there needs to be an institutionalised fashion system.
Comprising designers, manufacturers, wholesalers, public relations people, journalists and ad agencies, this system transforms clothing into fashion.
This is a system of legitimisation: if a garment has a legitimate designer’s name on it, was presented at a legitimate show in an established fashion capital, and is featured in a legitimate fashion magazine then that garment becomes fashion, something more than just mere clothing. At the heart of this fashion system is the charismatic superstar designer, the creative genius. However, even this individual is reliant on the fashion system for legitimisation. The system makes and breaks its own stars – raw talent and creative genius are not enough.
Might Emiratisation expand to the creation of an indigenous fashion system, challenging the dominance of self-legitimating fashion systems elsewhere? Might the expensive luxury items routinely consumed in the UAE come to be conceived in this country too? Or must Coco’s ghost forever dictate what fashionable people wear?
Justin Thomas is an associate professor of psychology at Zayed University and author of Psychological Well-Being in the Gulf States
On Twitter: @DrJustinThomas
