Poverty Porn 2.0: Why 'jugad' is suddenly the new urban chic
Italian shoe brand, Golden Goose, seems to be walking in Zara's shoes. And the emphasis here lies on the word 'shoes'.
Golden Goose's latest offering is a pair of distressed sneakers — as distressed as you can think of, complete with worn-out soles that have been taped together. Currently sold out, the sneakers were priced at $530 on Nordstrom. "Crumply, hold-it-all-together tape detail, a distressed leather sneaker in a retro low profile with a signature sidewall star and a grungy rubber cupsole," reads the description. And we can't even.
Apparently, this isn't the first time the Italian shoe-makers have done this. They had come up with something similar back in 2016 as well, which was priced higher at $585. And, yeah, those were a massive success, obviously, which gave them the balls to repeat it.
Now, what does this tell us about international fashion trends? That hipsters will buy anything with a snazzy description. Which is why daadi's haldi doodh becomes Turmeric Latte and your kulhad wali chai becomes Chai Latte.
But it also forces you to think about a sly attempt by fashion brands at 'poverty appropriation'.
Scottish comedian Brian Limond had tweeted the phrase back in 2016 when he was reacting to Golden Goose's earlier masterpiece — and it is exactly what it is, and it sounds like. And poverty appropriation isn't just restricted to shoes. It is when the opponent feel entitled to the one thing the have-nots have mastered — jugad.
Why else would you choose to hang out in pubs like Social and Gateway Taproom that serve you in aluminum qaidi plates and boast of a grungy service-area decor with water pipes and valves to enhance your dining experience?
This is poverty appropriation. https://t.co/HvxpReUd06
— Limmy: TIX ON SALE NOW (@DaftLimmy) August 28, 2016
In the sartorial world, this appropriation comes in the form of distressed fashion and is something we're all aware of. Your torn jeans to your dungarees all broadly fall into the category. But it's only now that the trope has come under the radar, what with the likes of Zara and Golden Goose repackaging homeless jugad as urban chic. Slap a label across a refurbished item, get a bunch of models to sport them and hire an expensive photographer to shoot an international quality fashion campaign. The better you are at making the ordinary seem oh-so-coveted, the higher your chances of showing at the fashion weeks of the world.
If anything, fashion has turned into a hoarder's paradise! If you find it particularly difficult to throw something away, wait for it to come in vogue. And the same logic applies closer home when you realise that sustainable fashion is basically up-cycled hand-me-downs, and the real reason why you're still drawn towards your grandmother's wardrobe.
But let's not forget that the humble pair of jeans was once mere working clothes. In its 140-year history, they've transitioned from being cheap garments identified with labourers, to becoming symbols of disobedience, to a fashion statement you cannot do without.
So, to say that poverty appropriation is a millennial trend would be incorrect. Can we say that in another 140 years, taped sneakers won't represent something bigger than a mere marketing gimmick? No, we can't. But do we hate 'em at the moment? Yes, we do.