Gjesteblogg: Investering i estetisk kapital, forsøk 2

Bloggposten er skrevet av Geir Stene, eller @gstene, som vanligvis blogger på sin egen blogg. Den er et svar på posten om hvor mye tid jeg bruker på mitt utseende, eller hvor mye jeg investerer i "estetisk kapital".

Da Julie kom opp med ideen om å måle sin investering i ”estetisk kapital”, sånn i tidsbruk, tenkte jeg at det var egentlig morsomt. For hvor lang tid bruker jeg? Ikke særlig mye, tror jeg. Har ikke inntrykk av at jeg driver med så mye slikt. På den annen side, vi gjør så mye mer eller mindre ubevisst at det er neimen ikke lett å si. Derfor syntes jeg ideen var morsom, og jeg kom til å si at jammen skal jeg også gjøre det.

Uka har vært underlig. Sjelden har jeg tenkt så mye over hva jeg driver med av forfengelighetsgrunner, samtidig som jeg ikke ville gjøre mer enn hva jeg faktisk gjør ellers, bare fordi nå fokuserte jeg på hver eneste handling. Jeg har virkelig forsøkt å ikke å gjøre mer, eller mindre, enn det jeg vanligvis ville gjort i løpet av en vanlig gjennomsnittsuke.

Etter å ha plottet tallene inn (fra notat via iPhonen) i Excel er tallet mitt: 28.

Jeg brukte altså 28 min. i snitt gjennom de 7 dagene. Det er min ”estetiske kapital” eller forfengelighetstidsbruk om du vil.

Investering i estetisk kapital

Tallet er 69.

69 minutter om dagen, en drøy time altså, bruker jeg på mitt eget utseende.

Jeg kom frem til dette etter at Mari Mikkelsens masteroppgave Fordi jeg fortjener det ble tema for artikkel i D2 og kommentar i E24. Elin Ørjasæter skrev: "Hver manikyr, hver morgensminke og hver shoppingrunde tar tid. Den tiden kunne kvinner brukt til å løse differensialligninger, gå på pub med kolleger eller til å lære seg et nytt fremmedspråk. Er det rart kvinner ikke gjør karriere?" Mari Mikkelsen lanserte ideen om at tiden vi bruker på utseende er investering i vår estetiske kapital.

Jeg reagerte som den selvopptatte nerden jeg er.

I en uke tok jeg tiden hver gang jeg pusset tenner, planla antrekk, (vindus)shoppet klær eller sko, sminket meg, klippet meg eller fønet håret. Og innimellom leste jeg Mikkelsens oppgave. Jeg leste om "the attractive woman identity" som det er vanskelig å legge fra seg, og hvordan estetisk kapital byttes i alt fra innflytelse over venners smak til rabatter fra fremmede.

Det er forsket såpass lite på dette, at jeg ikke vet hvordan jeg ligger an i forhold til andre jenter. Jeg kan imidlertid konkludere med at jeg brukte fra 33 til 110 minutter om dagen, i en tilfeldig valgt uke, på mitt eget utseende. Den uken var jeg hos frisøren, jeg kjøpte sko og jeg dro ut på byen to ganger. Jeg snakket om utseende med både gutter og jenter.

Men jeg brukte 0 minutter på å bekymre meg for hvordan jeg så ut. Jeg tenkte aldri "Nå føler jeg meg stygg." Utseendet mitt var aldri et problem.

Det er en scene i masteroppgaven som omhandler hvor komplisert det er å velge strømpebukser. Hvor undertrykket jenter er som bruker tankekraft, tid og penger på et ubehagelig klesplagg som kanskje vil gjøre at vi ser tynnere ut i festkjole, men som revner første kvelden:

"Med strømpebukser får man jevnere farge på bena, de skjuler merker og de holder figuren "på plass". (…) Jeg gleder meg til å ta den av, før jeg i det hele tatt har fått den på."

Jeg kjenner meg ikke igjen, og jeg tror denne scenen skildrer nervøse jenters jakt på anerkjennelse, ikke strømpebukser. Usikre mennesker finner alltids noe å bekymre seg for. Dessverre. Blir du lei deg av å kjøpe strømpebukser, sitter sannsynligvis problemet i ditt hode.

(Her oppdaget jeg at kunne ha skrevet et helt innlegg om strømper og strømpebukser, men det får være grenser for hva jeg skal utsette leserne mine for.)

Media rettet mot jenter er stort sett basert på å skape usikkerhet som gjør at vi lettere faller for reklame fra kosmetikk- og motebransjen. Men jeg vil nå hevde at jeg fortsatt har fri vilje.

Jeg er lei av å bli fortalt at jeg må bruke mer penger på utseendet mitt for å i det hele tatt se akseptabel ut. Men jeg er vel så lei av å bli fortalt at jeg er usikker, uselvstendig, jålete og ikke minst undertrykket fordi jeg bryr meg om klær. 

Les også:

• Hvorfor jeg tenker "Æsj" om kosmetisk kirurgi
• Hvorfor jeg ikke vil snakke om slanking

For beskrivelsen av uken, les videre.

Suit up!

To quote Barney Stinson: "Suit’s are awesome."

Wednesday October 13th is International Suit Up Day, celebrating the show How I met your mother, the character Barney Stinson, and the outfit The Suit.

Although I’m generally sceptical of any "it’s so unfair that women can’t do this" whining, I agree with this Norwegian blogger about the following:

"The man’s suit is a genius concept. It does men many favors and simplifies their lives. (…) While there are ugly and unfashionable suits, it’s a fact that all men can look f*cking good in a suit. Men are more manly, more male in suits (…) Long-sleeved shirts, a blazer and trousers hide bad skin, scars, sweat, hair, fat and any other body issues. Suits turn boys into men, while still flattering older men." (My translation)

I recommend the whole post if you read Norwegian. In summary: Men have this go-to outfit that says "I’m professional and serious, and it’s totally a coincidence that I look hot at the same time." Women simply don’t have an equivalent.

What do we wear when men wear suits? Sure, we can wear suits, and look cool:

… but it will be inevitably be described as "women wearing menswear", possibly because it’s "trendy" (Note to fashion journalists: It’s not a trend if it’s been around for a century.).

Or we can wear fitted dresses, recommended by the Financial Times… but they can easily cross the line into too dressy or too fitted.

Women often end up looking like they either put too much effort into their appearance, or not enough. Pencil skirts and heels are more secretary than boss, while an actual suit can end up looking like a costume.

But hey, Suit Up Day is not about complaining. In a world according to Julie, it would be about all the men I meet wearing suits for just one day. That would be great…

In the meantime, I can put on a blazer and watch How I met your mother. Videos below…

Utseendet – bortkastet tid eller investering?

Hver manikyr, hver morgensminke og hver shoppingrunde tar tid. Den tiden kunne kvinner brukt til å løse differensialligninger, gå på pub med kolleger eller til å lære seg et nytt fremmedspråk. Er det rart kvinner ikke gjør karriere? – Elin Ørjasæter i E24

Det forskes nesten ikke på hvor mye tid jenter bruker på utseendet sitt. I 2000 fant SSB ut at unge menn (16-24 år) brukte 38 minutter på "personlig hygiene, av- og påkledning" hver dag, mens kvinner brukte 55 minutter.

Nå har Mari Mikkelsen skrevet oppgaven Fordi jeg fortjener det om unge jenter i Oslo og ressursene de legger i utseendet sitt. Hun bruker begrepet estetisk kapital og omtaler dermed utseendet som noe kvinner investerer i, fremfor å bare bruke opp tid på.

Siden jeg er selvopptatt, ble jeg nysgjerrig på hvor mye tid jeg egentlig legger i utseendet mitt. Og siden jeg er nerdete, fikk jeg lyst til å faktisk sette tall på det. Det skal visst være flaut å fortelle om dette (og derfor underrapporteres det), men jeg bør i hvert fall notere det for meg selv. Mulig det er komplett uinteressant for bloggens lesere, men som sagt, jeg er en selvopptatt (og kanskje litt forfengelig) nerd.

Hypotese: Jeg tror jeg er over, ok da, godt over, SSBs gjennomsnitt når det gjelder tidsbruk.

(… men jeg stusser litt over at "avkledning" er et punkt. Hvor lang tid det tar, avhenger vel mest av hvorvidt man har en tilskuer….)

Alle bloggpostene mine om klær og mote og sånn er samlet her.

Illustrasjon: PostSecret

Oppdatert: Siden det er minst 1 leser som venter i spenning på dette regnestykket, kommer jeg til å publisere tallene.

Oppdatert igjen: Eksperimentet er avsluttet. Les om resultatet.

It’s (almost) Moose Cap Friday!

Tomorrow is Moose Cap Friday!

In the photo on the right, runway model Patricia van der Vliet demonstrates the Sacred Moose Cap Greeting behind the scenes at the Anna Sui Fall Ready-to-Wear show 2010. I see this as proof that Moose Cap is now high fashion.

From Vogue to my own little magazine: The latest issue of argument, where I’ve been an editor for the past year, was released just a few days ago. And there is a girl with Moose antlers on the cover.

Believe it or not, this was not my decision. Our cover illustration is artwork by Linda Soh Trengereid. You can see more of her Moose Cap art here.

But what is Moose Cap? It is a sacred tradition that began in the 1200s in the woods of Rondane. Or in the Oslo pub Café Sara one summer night back in 2008. Since then, every third Friday of the month is Moose Cap Friday.

In this interview my friends and I explain Moose Cap to the magazine The Monthly Moose. They have no affiliation with Moose Cap Friday, but since the name was so similar, they decided they needed to do a story about us.

We celebrate with Moose Cap food (Moose meat obviously, but also Moose-shaped pasta), Moose Cap t-shirts ™, politically incorrect jokes, and well, parties. And somehow, thanks to Moose Cap Magic even the founders of this tradition do not always understand, strange and exciting things tend to happen on Moose Cap Fridays.

Although wearing a t-shirt or Moose Cap is strongly encouraged, the most important thing is to honor the Moose, honor your friends and celebrate.

Oh, and you should join the Facebook group of course.

 

P. S. Moose Cap Magic means you will never be hungover the day after Moose Cap Friday. Seriously. Enjoy.

Fashion lessons from childhood fiction

1. Don’t be afraid of super high shoes. (Cruella de Vil)
2. It’s not enough just to be pretty. (Jane Eyre)
3. Well-tailored jackets and tiny Victorian-style boots go with everything. (Mary Poppins)
4. There’s no shame in being different, bright jackets are awesome and you really need to stop judging people entirely by their clothing, even though judging people entirely by their clothing leads to completely accurate assumptions. Actually, every single item in your closet would look better surrounded by Parisian scenery… and judging people by their clothing is more accepted in Paris. (Madeline)

Via Jennifer Wright’s series Fashion lessons from childhood fiction

Oh, and by the way, some related posts:

• Playing dress-up (how wanting to be a witch influenced my style)
• Dressed for anything (why Parisians judge)
• Style according to Julie (All my posts on clothes and fashion on one page)

(And yes, this was written as procrastination/break in the middle of writing a six page feature article on South African education. Yay, feature writing exams again!)

What’s your tribe?

Exactitudes is fascinating. Ari Versluis and Ellie Uyttenbroek have taken on-the-street style photography a step further by collecting photos of people who dress alike. They’ve given each photo collection, or tribe, a name. And Norwegian D2 asks in this article‘s title: "What tribe do you belong to?"

In 1999, I looked kind of like these girls. My braces had just come off, but I had the pony-tail and the dark, fitted, denim jacket. In early 2008, I was a girl living in the seventh – literally a member of the filles du septieme tribe. I guess I did look like these girls – on a bad day. That came out kind of harsh. What I mean is, if two Dutch photographers had stopped me on the street while I was wearing jeans, an open cardigan, a plain top and minimal accessories and make-up, it would be the result of an early-morning class rather than a conscious style choice or an attempt to look like I have "the style of a tabloid actress". In late 2008, early 2009, I guess I kind of looked like these girls,only less Asian and with a cheaper bag. And now I don’t know.

Which one are you?

(Parts of this is reposted from December 2008, but I rediscovered Exactitudes the other day, realized they had a new website and that I needed to update my links, and then spent a little too much time looking around at the tribes.It’s even more fun now that they’ve added audio commentary.)

Fur issues, part 3: Organic, fair-trade, free range coats

I’m surprised the Norwegian fur industry hasn’t gotten its act together by now.   

Let’s examine the evidence:

1. Norway is a rich country, but Norwegians claim to be down to earth and sensible. So Norwegians love politically correct, expensive status symbols.

2. A Norwegian writer recently used this country’s winter weather as evidence that God’s world-creating talent is grossly overrated. You would think we were willing to buy anything that could keep us warm.

3. Free range meat, eggs and dairy are sold in many Norwegian supermarkets. This indicates that plenty of Norwegians care about animal rights, but are still ok with killing animals so human beings can be happier.

4. Vegan footwear exists. Marketing fashion as politically correct seems to work.

5. I count Norwegian tap water among my favorite drinks. I miss it when I’m outside the country. But selling Norwegian bottled water to people in Norway who own sinks, turned out to be a successful business plan. We will clearly pay money for anything.

In all seriousness, why does the fur industry not attempt to capitalize on the consumer demand for "ethical" luxury?

After a dissapointing fall season for the fur industry, the unusually cold winter has driven Norwegian fur sales up, leading to more debate about animal cruelty. In this VG article, a spokesperson for Pelsinform says fur farmers who mistreat their animals are a far greater threat to the industry than animal rights activists or fur boycotts are. I think that’s true.

As I’ve tried to explain before, killing animals for fur isn’t basicly any worse than killing them for meat. But if the fur industry really is crueller than the meat industry, then of course they shouldn’t be allowed to get away with it.

My advice: Make sure the animals are treated well until they die as peacefully and painlessly as possible. And then make sure consumers know about that.

This is Part 3, in which I give the fur industry some marketing advice. You should also read

• Part 1, in which an ethical dilemma turns up literally on my doorstep, in the form of a white rabbit fur vest
• Part 2, in which I make a more serious attempt to discuss fashion as if it were a topic in ethics class.

Photo: .jowo. CreativeCommons

Fur issues part 2: Attempting to make sense

A response to comments on:

• Part 1, in which an ethical dilemma turns up literally on my doorstep, in the form of a white rabbit fur vest.

Eva writes that last week’s post about fur didn’t address the issue of animal cruelty in the fur industry enough. I actually barely addressed it at all.

That fur is wrong because it hurts animals is the foundation for the whole fur debate. It’s the basic assumption underlying all the confusion in my head (which Martine called "witty" in her comment).

However there is the difference between "Fur is wrong because animals die" and "Fur is wrong because the fur industry mistreats animals and then they die".

The first sentence makes logical sense, but I disagree with it. I happen to think that killing animals for food is ok. (I had a tuna sandwich today.) So I have to think that killing animals for clothing is ok. (I wore leather boots while I ate the sandwich.)

The second sentence does not make sense. Animal cruelty is wrong. Fur in itself is not automatically wrong because of this.

I don’t know that much about the issue of animal cruelty in the fur industry. Also (and this is actually the important part): I don’t know that much about animal cruelty in the meat/fish/egg/dairy industries either, not to mention all the other industries I support each day. And that’s why I’ve worn fur a handful of times. Because being anti-fur would be hypocritical. It would mean arbitrarily "boycotting" something that I have never bought anyway, while continuing to support industries that may or may not be just as bad.

My conclusion in part 1 was that, given that fur is one of the many reasons human beings kills other species, and given my insufficient knowledge of the amount of harm I was inflicting on other living creatures, to be against fur I should also be against meat, fish and leather (definitely, because animals have to die for me to have this), plus silk, eggs, dairy and probably a lot of fruits and vegetables (probably, because animals are very likely to die so that I can have these things). And I don’t want to be naked and hungry.

I’m not saying "I simply don’t want to care about animals." I’m saying that as long as I’m not a vegan, I have no reason to be against fur in itself. It would be like saying "Minks deserve to live, but fish don’t."

Being ok with fur doesn’t mean I can’t be against specific animal cruelty. And yes, the idea that the fur industry does a lot of cruel things is one of the reasons I have never particularly wanted fur. In part one, I wrote: "I had never seriously considered buying a fur coat in the same way I’ve never seriously considered buying a pair of Prada pumps or a Burberry trench coat: I don’t have that kind of money." However, I have wanted Prada pumps and a Burberry trench coat.

Full disclosure: I have never bought any real fur. I have worn (daily for two seasons) a coat with a fur collar, which my grandmother had worn decades earlier. The collar was supposedly wolf, but I honestly don’t know. That coat had a rabbit fur lining, which I removed and never wore. I have also borrowed mink scarves and collars for specific occasions, including a costume party, from family members. The other women in my family wear fur. I was given a rabbit fur vest, which I returned after wearing twice.

Related links:

• Here’s a video (Norwegian news clip) about cruelty to chickens. (Norwegian)
• My journalism classmate Jorunn Gaarder wrote a very balanced feature article about the fur debate. It was adapted into a news story and published in the Norwegian newspaper VG, but not online. If you have access to the archive Atekst, you can read the VG article here. (Norwegian)
• Anne Viken, a Norwegian free-lance journalist and veterinarian, has written articles about marketing products as "ethical" and what’s really behind labels like "local food" and "organic food". Here’s one of them. There are more articles about food on her blog. (Norwegian)
• IFTF is the international organization for fur trade, both farmed and wild fur. Pelsinform is the Norwegian equivalent.

This is Part 2, in which I make a more serious attempt to discuss fashion as if it were a topic in ethics class. Continue to:

• Part 3, in which I give the fur industry some marketing advice.

(Images by The Sartorialist)

Fur issues

I’ve been thinking about fur lately. It’s one of those trains of thought that simply will not go away, as if my mind were saying: "Write this down! Sort this out! Get to the bottom of this!" over and over and over. Especially after my mom showed up at my door with a rabbit fur vest for me.

Rabbit. My mother informed me yesterday that "We don’t eat rabbit," because we used to have a live one. But that didn’t stop her from buying rabbit fur the week before. And when she gave it to me, we had the following conversation:

"What’s this, Mom?"

"It’s rabbit."

"It’s RABBIT!?"

"It’s rabbit!!! " (Yes, you could hear the smiley at the end of her spoken sentence.)

"But Mom, it’s rabbit."

"Well, just tell people it’s mink."

Now, with a few notable exceptions, I usually think my mom has good taste and style. Plus, the vest fits, it’s warm, and I recently added "It’s cold outside," to my list of all-purpose excuses. (The list also includes "At least I don’t smoke." and "I was living in Lier when I did that.") But since I’m a nerd who sees over-analyzing as a hobby, my brain won’t stop internally debating how to feel about this recent addition to my closet. So far, I have come to the following conclusions:

1. Wearing fur sends a message. It says: "I’m ok with the fact that what I am wearing used to be alive." But so does wearing leather and silk.

2. In many cases, fur also sends the message: "I spent A LOT of money on something that makes me look box-shaped." (This vest doesn’t; the opossum coat my mom tried to make me borrow, does.)

3. Fur is expensive. So is foie gras, another luxury item associated with animal cruelty. "Sacrificing" the things you can’t actually afford, is not sacrificing. I’m not going to earn any karma points by pretending that I don’t have a car because of the environment. I don’t have a car, because I don’t need one and I can’t afford one. I rarely eat fois gras, because I can only rarely afford it. I had never seriously considered buying a fur coat in the same way I’ve never seriously considered buying a pair of Prada pumps or a Burberry trench coat: I don’t have that kind of money.

4. I’ve heard people argue that wearing fur, even vintage fur from the 30s, is an indirect support of today’s fur industry, because it keeps the look of fur in fashion. These same people suggested wearing realistic-looking faux fur. How does that not keep the fur look in fashion? People who claim to have made up their minds are clearly just as confused as me. "Don’t get me started on fur. It makes me so angry," one friend warned when I mentioned my difficult gift. I glanced at her new suede coat and changed the subject.

5.  Faux fur is not as warm. And it either looks nothing like fur or exactly like fur, and I think either one is screapy*. It is simply not an alternative in my opinion.

6. I’ve worn fur before (right), so I fail already.

7. Ideally, I would know the costs I inflict on the world whenever I choose to consume anything. How happy was the hen who laid these eggs? Exactly how did this turkey die? What are the working conditions of the people who made this cheap t-shirt? Was this imported fruit transported in the best way possible for the environment? Given that I don’t know these answers, I am probably making the wrong decisions all the time, leading to uneccessary suffering. Who says that dying to become a fur vest is worse than dying to become Christmas dinner?

After reviewing this evidence, it seemed I had two choices, if I wanted my own actions to make sense. I could wear the fur. Or I could give up a whole bunch of my favorite things: all my boots, my preferred breakfast, my kimono, the only pyjamas I really like, traditional Thanksgiving – did I mention bacon?

So I wore it just long enough to realize a drawback I had forgotten: Rabbits shed their hair. So did my new vest. I will be returning it.

* Screapy: From scary and creepy. Something so stupid and off-putting that it kind of scares you. It’s in Urban Dictionary now, but I made it up before I started this blog. I should mention that I was living in Lier at the time.

This is Part 1, in which an ethical dilemma turns up literally on my doorstep, in the form of a white rabbit fur vest. Continue to:

• Part 2, in which I make a more serious attempt to discuss fashion as if it were a topic in ethics class.
• Part 3, in which I give the fur industry some marketing advice.