I rode past a shop window the other day that featured a stunning coat. Big swishy skirt, interesting asymmetrical details, graphic fabric. Even though I saw but a glimpse of it as I zzzzzooooooomed past on my pushy, I knew I was going back for a stickybeak, even though I knew it would be frightfully expensive.
In person the coat’s bones were lovely. But the fabric felt awful: rugh and crispy, like cheap quilt batting. The tag inside confirmed the awful truth: 100% polyester. Jeebus, I thought. It’s $600. Why would anyone spend that much on a plastic coat? Why would anyone spend that much time tailoring a plastic coat that would pill and sweat and smell like hydrocarbons? I tried it on to check out how it looked on me (and for a sneaky inspection typical to us seamsters to make mad mental notes about how to replicate things at a fraction of the cost) and the cheerful and helpful shop staffer breezed over to tell me I looked marvellous. (I didn’t, really.) She cooed about the coat and asked what I thought.
“To be completely honest,” I said, thinking perhaps this was constructive criticism that would help a small fashion label, “I’m disappointed that it’s polyester.”
She was utterly flummoxed. “Oh, you want a natural fibre? Here’s a cotton cardigan…”
“No thanks. I’m interested in coats, but I would never pay $600 for a polyester coat. ”
She struggled to think of something to say. “Our clothes are made locally in very limited quantities…” and she trailed off to help someone else.
Make it 'til you fake it 