The fashion industry (or is it the media?) might be pushing us into fall, but it’s still summer on the streets of New York! So how come I can’t find a swimsuit? Press play and come along on a search for swimwear and answers!

Williamsburg, Brooklyn, 8:30 this morning

I ran into fashion designer Mina Stone last night in the neighborhood, and we were chatting about the NYC Garment District. Mina is known here in New York for her clothes, but also for her cooking. I write about fashion, but I also write about food, so the parallel Mina drew made perfect sense.

dress and purslane salad by Mina Stone

Producing her collection in the garment district, Mina said, is sort of like provisioning a kitchen in an old-world neighborhood — (Fabric superstore Mood excepted, which she likened to the Whole Foods of fabric). You go to the butcher, the baker, the fish guy, the dairy… As a production assistant back in the day, I used to make my rounds to the button man, the furrier (Greek, like Mina), the silk guy and the sample maker — each from a different corner of the globe.

Mina is right — the Garment District is still totally old New York, and just like our great little culinary corners (which still exist, Whole Foods or not!), the neighborhood makes modern masterpieces possible, thanks to traditional techniques, the best materials and artists like Mina!

And I think that given a closer look, we might find that the city’s culinary corners actually have a bit to do with our history in clothing production too. I recently interviewed my grandmother, Mom Mom, for an upcoming webisode, about my great grandfather’s old knicker factory downtown. He came over with a wave of Eastern European Jews at the turn of the century, many of whom went into the rag trade on the Lower East Side.

Provisioning for a trip to Mom Mom’s at Russ & Daughters

I went to the neighborhood to pick up a book for my historical research at the Tenement Museum, and also to pick up a dozen bagels and some lox to bring to my grandma from Russ & Daughters. It turns out that the specialty shop has been around since the same era that brought all those Jewish garmentos. I talked it over with Mom Mom over bagels, and I’ll share more with you in the webisode to come!

Just a little food for thought, to whet your appetite in the meantime.

(And…neither that webisode, nor my run-in with Mina would be possible without my produc-ah, Julie Miller, heeee—-eeey!)

Well, helloooo! A quick glance at the blog here might lead you to believe it’s been a lazy summer here in Closettour-land, like I’ve been lolling on the waves in Montauk or on Fire Island, or canvassing the city for a swimsuit. You wouldn’t be entirely wrong–just mostly. For the past few months I’ve been hard at work on a little web-TV series to get to you in time for September Fashion Week–which is just around the corner!

Here’s a little trailer to get you warmed up…coming soon…

As is often the case, I’ve got Brazil on the brain. It’s been too long (two years!) since I’ve been back to that land that I love.

When I studied abroad in Rio in 2002 (above–remember that dress?), fashion from Ipanema’s beaches to the depths of the Amazon inspired me to explore the origins and effects of our clothing. This week, two very different perspectives demonstrated why Brazil served as such a useful (and joyous) microcosm for a girl on her way to studying the manifestations of globalization through fashion.

A snapshot of popular Brazil: pink Havaianas and a patchwork doormat in the Amazon, 2008

Yesterday in Viceland, Jack Orlik examined the fashion choices of the Huaorani people, in the (Ecuadorian) Amazon. He seemed upset by the Huaorani’s adoption of modern clothing like jeans and rubber boots, and equally disturbed by the the exploitation of their native garb for North American and European TV crews.

His photos of the Amazon, like many of mine (above and below from Pará, Brazil in 2008), show people wearing what’s easy, available and convenient, which usually comes down to some combination of cotton or nylon shorts and a tee shirt and rubber shoes, whether boots or Havaiana flip-flops.

Most of the indigenous people’s accessories were more practical (see: sun-blocking hats and snorkel masks) than decorative. But those traditional accessories are still around, and there’s a bit of cultural exchange there. I brought home strands of seed-beads and little feathered crowns that I still wear. Orlik, who used the Huaorani’s wardrobe choices to demonstrate their precarious position between preservation and petroleum, might see my souvenirs as cultural exploitation. I see them more as globalization of fashion, and, well, beautiful accessories.

Writing this today, in a feather crown purchased in the Amazon in 2002

Meanwhile, the Business of Fashion’s Suleman Anaya went “Inside Brazil’s Booming Fashion Industry” to illustrate how the country’s protectionist trade policy, urban migration and growing GDP are contributing to a Brazilian fashion industry that is at once attracting foreign investment and exporting Brazilian brands. (See: Osklen and Rosa Chá in SoHo.) Spending time with garment workers here in New York and reading about the effectiveness of Brazil’s import duties on their apparel manufacturing sector made me wonder whether the U.S. would ever adopt a similarly aggressive strategy in support of American fashion. What’s pretty awesome, is that the import duties don’t just protect Brazilian jobs, they also protect their aesthetic, which is so specific, and so f-ing amazing!

Rio de Janeiro, 2008

There’s so much I love about Brazilian fashion (burning my buns on the beach, wearing the world’s tiniest bottoms and chandelier arrings, for a start), but these stories reminded me what first inspired me there as a student of global studies: It wasn’t just my amazing handmade leather flip-flops, though they were part of it. It was the potential that lies in the nexus of these two articles, where indigenous traditions meet the spending power of high-fashion consumers.

image from the Wayúu Tayá Foundation

Look what’s happened with the Mochila bag, a handwoven purse from Colombian and Venezuelan tribes. Surely, the Wayúu Tayá Foundation’s sales have skyrocketed since the fashion world adopted their woven bags as a must-have accessory (I know I want one!) That’s a case of a non-profit organization that works with tribal communities earning money to support their projects in areas like health and education.

Imagine if they helped the Wayúu women organize themselves to connect directly with North American and European buyers, and even designers to help them apply their techniques to styles that, well, “exploit” the whims of the industry.

Huh. Sounds like another hot model that could come from Brazil.

]]> http://closettour.com/2010/08/07/can-globalization-be-glamorous-check-out-brazil/feed/ 0 http://closettour.com/2010/07/26/setting-south-williamsburg-brooklyn/ http://closettour.com/2010/07/26/setting-south-williamsburg-brooklyn/#comments Mon, 26 Jul 2010 16:41:45 +0000 Jenni Avins http://closettour.com/?p=2481

“All the world’s a stage,” one William S. once said. Lately in South Williamsburg, it certainly seems the case. That “to set” sign isn’t from our neighborhood shoot yesterday, but rather from Chanel’s in January. You may remember when my embedded source, Tony Baloney, tipped me off to Scorsese’s shoot for Chanel – that’s with a hard “ch” as per Tony – shoot a block away from Closettour’s homestead headquarters.

I’m spending this summer working on a series of web videos that track Summer 2010’s run-up to September Fashion Week. Yesterday we shot in my neighborhood, where the locals and the light cooperated nicely, as you can see from the stills below.

As usual, the point-of-view for these stories will be a pretty personal one — that’s my across-the-hall neighbor pictured above. Yesterday was a steamy day in the city, so I giggled when I opened my August Vanity Fair to find these beauties basking in tweed on their fire escapes.

I’m pretty sure these are from Karl Lagerfeld’s shoot on the Lower East Side, but I couldn’t help but notice our parallel views.

From Karl’s crane:

From my fire escape:

The two of us have been going back and forth for a while now: Art imitating life imitating art imitating life imitating art. Here I am on Halloween, circa 2006, I believe.

It’s getting a little confusing. But here’s what I can promise you: For Closettour’s NYC Webisodes, I’m keeping it real.

I couldn’t make this stuff up.

The webisodes are really coming along, if I do say so myself! You’ll get to see them soon enough (to be released in the run-up to NY Fashion Week), but rest assured, we’re working our tails off in the meantime. Yes, we. For an independent journalist, I’ve got a pretty strong support team, both on the project and the sidelines. It’s been sort of overwhelming this week.

My camera-man ready to shoot bike-bound footage of the garment district.

We’re in pre-production, production and post-production all at once (see “mental monsoon” Monday), but are totally maintaining, at least for the moment. In the meantime, I’ve had a small army of friends sending me links to articles all week–a little custom-fed stream of information. (I think someone here in the CUNY Journalism Incubator is programming something similar.)

I’ve just barely had time to read all the interesting articles, much less write about them, but I’m going to share the links with you anyway, because I suppose that’s sort of the point of a blog — the ability to publish something partially developed, that is. Is it?

Sooo…

• Gotham Gal Joanne Wilson’s take on the New York Times’ story about Knights Apparel factory and their “experiment” of paying fair wages to workers who make college tees. Joanne, like me, used to work in the garment center. She wrote:

One of the most frustrating things of the business was working with companies like Walmart. On one hand, they wanted “made in America” but on the other hand they wanted to pay a price for a garment that didn’t really allow for it to be “made in America”. Their customers might want to pay $15 for skirt, have it made in the USA when our labor costs including union fees are too expensive to actually make the garment in the USA. If the customer pays $15 then Walmart wants to pay the manufacturer about $7. $7 includes fabric, cut, sew, ship and hangers. In essence, they wanted to have their cake and eat it too. Very American actually.

• Gabriel Bell, over at Afingo, then shot me this post about a company that lets you tag your clothing item with a label connected to a story online, which he knew I would LOVE! I am a little afraid of how over the top Closettour could take this, as anyone who has ever just tried to give me a simple compliment on a clothing item could tell you. (“I’m not doing this right now,” Indrani Datta told me on the way to the train the other night, when I started in about a necklace.)

• Then Peter Hauck passed me his copy of yesterday’s WSJ so I could see the story about the clothing Eco Index. I love the idea of accounting for a product’s environmental footprint (The folks at Klattermusen in Sweden already have this in effect.), but found it a little disconcerting to find buried in the story, that all the “accounting” information will be self-reported by participating companies. That said, it’s definitely going to be an effective tool for building customer awareness and corporate efficiency — both environmental and economic. Levi’s changed transport routes last year (due to an independent study) and reduced their carbon footprint by 700 metric tons, and Brooks reduced their cost for a shoe box by 38% by cutting down on wasted shipping space.
• I was thrilled to see stories about actual style and clothing on the front page of the New York Times’ Style section yesterday. I loved Eric Wilson’s story about shoppers who limit themselves to wearing six items or fewer. I liked the statistic that American women, on average, own seven pairs of jeans, but wear only four regularly. Fascinating.
• I have lots more to say about the aforementioned article, but I’ll be honest. I’ve been glued to this desk long enough. It’s Friday evening. And the way I’m working, I’m sure I’ll have another article on the way soon. This one won’t be sent as a tweet or a link, but rather as a neatly folded clipping in an envelope addressed in cursive handwriting. It will come from my grandmother, and inside, folded up, will be another front pager from yesterday’s Style Section: the one with the subhed, “New dating tools use printed come-ons or GPS to speed flirtation.” Yikes! See, it worked preemptively. I’m hitting the streets where it’s real. Happy weekend!

When I headed to the Times Center last night,  in my tomato colored dress by Diane Von Furstenberg to hear a panel that included the designer, I felt a little overzealous — sort of like the guy that goes to the Grateful Dead show in his Grateful Dead shirt.

DVF, pictured in her first wrap dress

But as usual, Ms. Von Furstenberg left me feeling proud, powerful and full of possibility. She dropped witty one-liners on many a topic, which I’ve written up for Dossier today, but my favorite might have been in reference to her wrap dress.

“It’s a dress,” she said, “that always reflects the beginning of your life.”

It might sound audacious if it weren’t so true. My first DVF – not a wrap, but a jersey pullover shirtdress – pictured there beneath my notebook in my lap last night, came from my first New York City sample sale, paid for by my first real job. It has seen me through many a first date, interview and decision since, and somehow makes me feel at once sexy and safe — brave. It is a dress, as Ms. Von Furstenberg said, that reflects the beginning of my life, every time I wear it.

I may not seem like the most prolific producer these days (it came to my attention that I actually lost a Facebook fan last week) but I’m in the midst of a creative monsoon to make a mini-series of webisodes to air in August.

The clouds over the East River burst this morning, soaking me on my way to my editor’s apartment, but she quickly dried me off, poured me a coffee and is now cutting our trailer! Then, I was so excited to get to work, I accidentally got off the subway one stop EARLY. I re-boarded the train and arrived at the incubator to find that Julie Miller, my prescient producer, had left me an umbrella on the windowsill. She’s away this week, but she’s still helping me through my brainstorms — and this little shield even matches my dress.

More showers soon!

I never thought I’d be the sort of blogger to broadcast my own operation, but here goes nothing:

I first heard of Junky Styling from Mathilda Tham–you may remember her as the brainy beauty from Sweden.closettour who introduced me to the intersection between environmentalism, psychology and my closet. Then, Hazel Clark, the Parsons dean who is helping me explore solutions for slowing down the fashion calendar, tipped me off the designers would be installed at a SoHo gallery for just a few days of surgery.

Like the women who recommended them, Kerry and Annika are whip-smart and stylish in their thinking about sustainable solutions for the fashion industry. But they also had the sensitivity required for even the most fragile patient. (I teared up a few weeks ago when my friend Kristen suggested an old birthday dress was destined for donation.) Smarts, style and sensitivity–that’s what it’s going to take to lead the charge for more environmentally-friendly fashion.

I’m still losing the battle against those bags in my living room, but at least I’ve liberated a few old favorites. My next mission: I’m lobbying for a New York City branch for Junky Styling.

A video postcard sent from Fire Island, U.S.A on the 4th of July. (Postcards, you may remember, arrive a few days after the fact to the recipient’s pleasant surprise.)

My American-made Steven Alan shirtdress and Rainbow Sandals served me well through a weekend of beach-going, bicycling and barbecuing.

I hope you had a happy one too!