I went camping this weekend, in the grounds of a lovely house in the Kent countryside. I didn't know the family who owned the house very well, but knowing a former Beatle lived two doors down, I was sure the whole thing was going to be posh. Posh is ok. I always find it a bit silly when working class people snarl behind posh peoples' backs, assuming as they do that being born into a family that has or once had money makes you an agent of Beelzebub by default. I find properly posh people interesting, as they often don't talk about/ spend/ flash their wealth to all and sundry, sometimes living in abject poverty. From a branding point of view, I find it interesting that said people, who have the spending power to buy so much, rarely have any symbols of status about them, allowing for the Volvo estate and muddy Hunters Wellington boots (that’s required).



Anyhow, on the journey down, I prepared myself for any status anxieties that might occur. Yes, that is our Citroen AX in the driveway, yes, I have removed the stripes from my trainers, no, I don't work in banking/ law etc etc etc. I had everything settled in my mind, hopefully leaving me free to enjoy the weekend as a humble but contented serf. Unfortunately, the one thing I had forgotten about was our tent.

Three years ago, the missus sent me down the shops to buy a new tent, as were going to be camping at a number of festivals that year. The budget we had agreed on was £150. 'Just a cheap one from Argos, Neil; its not like we're going to the North Pole'. Well, it did make sense.

The only problem was that the fancy outdoors shop Snow & Rock was situated exactly opposite our local Argos. I duly trudged into the down-market catalogue store for a quick browse at their selection, but it was no use… these tents were for amateurs. Instead, I strolled over to Snow & Rock to see what the pros were using, just to compare prices, that was all. Within five minutes, a statuesque Norwegian outdoors goddess of an assistant was showing me round the mid to upper range tents on the market, explaining what an extra few quid bought you in the tent world.



Two hours later I return home, sheepishly holding a giant bag from Snow & Rock.

'I thought you were going to Argos Neil…' said the missus, '…did you find somewhere cheaper?'

'Er, not exactly; I went for something that'll last us for a long time. You know, it’s a false economy buying something cheap and flimsy… it'll only break before long.'

'So how much more was this one? £200?'

'Err, no, more like £450. But wait till you see it… it’s made by this hardcore German company called Salewa. Its standard kit with the people that go trekking in Nepal.'

"We're just camping at a festival in Dorset, Neil.'

Besides being impossible to put up, and not being particularly roomy, I can safely say it was money well spent, if only for the tinge of pride I feel when my tent sits in camp site full of domestic-use-only Argos rubbish; if any pro-mountaineers are ever nearby, they'll surely recoginse my brand of tent and count me as one of their own; even though I've never been anywhere near a mountain, and secretly, I absolutely hate camping.



So there I was in the posh family's campsite; having successfully parked the AX in a pool of Chelsea Tractors (that’s BMW 4X4's to non-Brits) without feeing any anxiety, having prepared myself to be out-classed and out-branded with some dignity throughout the weekend, here I was standing in the campsite, wanting, waiting, hoping, begging for someone to come over and compliment me on the hurricane-withstanding, minus 50 degrees-insulating capabilities of my tent. As if anyone would. I'm just as bad as the snobs that drive those high-end 4X4's. I just do it with the things I can afford.

The date's drawing nearer and I'm suddenly looking at all my branded things with a new fondness. I have started to wear/ use things for old time's sake, so sad am I to see them all go (except the Puma/ Burberry sneakers and Christopher Biggins Dior sunglasses, they were big mistakes). And I have taken to shooting every branded thing I own for prosperity. Here follows a selection….



I went through an enormous vintage Lacoste phase in 2001, and this was one of my best finds. I used to love that Lacoste was for scallies up north, casual revisionists down south and posh tennis playing businessmen everywhere else. Then they re-launched and now everyone's on the crocodile. I did a big feature on Lacoste in Sleazenation, went over to Paris to meet them all, and do you know what they gave me in return? One lousy tennis ball. Tight arses.



I think I'm going to miss the LCD TV hugely, though I should watch less TV, especially as most of the good stuff is available ad-free online now. The joke about this telly is that although its made by Sharp, the picture isn't, you know, very sharp. The whole Plasma/ LCD thing is a huge con and I got sucked in. Still, there's nothing like eating Green & Blacks chocolate with a cup of tea in front of the (slim wall-mounted) box after a hard days work.



Colgate, Aquafresh, Arm & Hammer, whatever the brand, I just wish I could find a non-branded alternative. The home made stuff I've been experimenting with is awful.



Bought for loads of money that I didn't really have at a vintage stall in Camden run by label obsessed Jehovah's Witnesses in 1999, this Westwood vest is pretty crass in its label whoredom, but look at the detail! Look at the stitching!



I forked out big time for this silk Raf Simmons bomber jacket many years ago, after seeing it worn by a very handsome man in a magazine advert. I was convinced that my owning the thing would make me lots more handsome and appealing too; yes that was a lean period for me in the bedroom department, and no it didn't work.

We are veering off the subject of brands, talking about the shortcomings of ethical products (if they're branded, they're out in the case of this project). But lets go over the questions raised, as so many of you have been kind enough to post responses.




Holly Howe said...

Hi Neil,
I think the obvious reason for the products not being good is because it's a small market so they tend to make bland clothing in the hope that they will appeal to all….I need to go to specialist shoe shops to purchase footwear for my clown like feet and similarly, the stock is crap. Boring, generic, granny shoes tend to be what's on offer despite the number of young(ish) people with the same problem as me. It seems that some companies think that if you can't turn a big profit, then what's the point in trying to make something desirable? Boo hiss!

Neil says…
Yes its tough being in an un-catered market; you'd think that the net would have made smaller markets more viable financially, or that overcrowded markets would begin to compete on diversity, as opposed to price, which is what we tend to have now.

Justin D-Z said...
There is definitely an issue with the high cost of "lifestyle" goods not produced through pure profit-driven logistics. Unfortunately, the upper class is going to pay a LOT more for designer wear and the lower class is going to spend according to their means. The middle class, if they are the type to spend rather than save, are going to spend for sub-designer wear in order to appear more upper-class.

It's a tough market. Food with a consciousness is catching on, because being healthy is an image thing. Branded clothing is also an image thing. I don't see that changing anytime soon.




Neil says
It is interesting that organic food has caught on to such a scale, yet ethical clothing remains stuck in the back pages of Oxfam magazine. I guess a simple answer is that eating organic food gives clear personal benefits to the consumer, as opposed to clothing, which requires a little more altruism. But lets face it, we generally wear clothes to make us look to reflect our culture, success, youth and sexiness; who wants to sacrifice any of that for the sake of a few poor cotton farmers on the other side of the world? Also, apart form Katherine Hamnett, the designs are just rubbish.

A note about the consumer habits of class…in my school, all the poorer kids had the best-branded stuff, while the same things were denied to my middle class friends and I. In the same respect, the affluent aristocracy is famed for living in borderline destitution (crumbling houses, battered old cars, ancient hand me down Barbour jackets). So I'm not so sure that people spend according to their class, especially as credit is easily available these days. It's an interesting subject.




gillsans said...

Have you looked at BlackSpot Shoes? If you ask me, their anti-brand is a brand, but I do know their shoes are ethically produced. You may need natty dreds to wear them though.

Neil says…
Adbusters have come under a lot of slack for those blackspot sneakers (especially in this book, which I think is 90% cobblers). In fact Adbusters come under a lot of flack full stop. I'm going to give them flack now: I contacted Adbusters a dozen times about this project for comment and maybe even support, and they are the only ones, out of all the ad agencies, brands, politicians and anti corporate groups, that have failed to respond and get involved. The only ones.

But about Blackspot… why don't Adbusters just sell them without the brand? It seems simple to me.

lee powers said...
Its 1 million percent impossible for you to live brand free...all you can do is choose one brand over another...

Neil says…
That sir is a challenge that I will rise to. Doubtless I will fail in some ways, but I'm gonna give it a bloody got try.



Anonymous said...

hi,
i've been reading your blog for a while and i can't help but wonder whether your fiance is going to follow the same 'rules' as you've set yourself. i assume you're extending to no brand thing to household items as well as clothing, and obviously cosmetics too, so what about items you share? this may be an intrusive question but is she as brand obsessed as you? and will this burning of the brands affect her in the same ways as it is you?
sorry if i seem nosey but you've mentioned her a few times and it got me thinking!

Neil says…
Well, my fiancé is partly the reason why I woke up to my brand addiction; when we first met, she wasn't really interested in consumption full stop. By living with me for six years, that has changed (although she still isn't a label junkie like me).
She's not getting involved with the de-branding process herself, clothes-wise, and whether she'll share my home made toothpaste and shampoo remains to be seen.

I don't drink, but the fridge is always stocked with wine for the missus, so I guess we are used to consuming separate products already. Its not going to be easy though. More on this soon.

I met Holly Howe yesterday, a journalist who some time ago attempted to live ethically for a month, as part of an ongoing project for a group called Anti Apathy, a project which encourages young people to act responsibly and engage in progressive politics.



I wanted to ask Holly about the current state of ethically produced clothing, hoping to find that the world of vegetarian shoes had moved on from sub-Birkenstock corrective shoes that look like you've just trodden in two Ginsters Extra Beefy Beef & Onion Pasties. Of course these matters of taste are purely subjective, but as far as I see, these trainers (recycled from old car tyres and other stuff) are personally less appealing than the a guided tour round the Ginsters abattoir followed by a Steak & Mushroom Pie eating contest in the corporate hospitality bar.

Anti Apathy are a wonderful organisation (shoe design is a minor aspect of their operation) and the intentions behind eco companies like these are entirely honourable, but I can't help wondering (1) why the products, from clothes to cosmetics are consistently, well, not very good (2) why they don't get proper designers in to make it all better (3) whether its worth just producing ethical stuff, but not relying on the ethical bit to sell the product, after all most people say they want to live ethically, but surveys always show that we never actually carry that out at the till.

Holly tells me that the month went by very slowly, and I'm guessing it wasn't the all-time happiest month in her life. But come on, there must someone out there producing well designed, ethically produced stuff for regular people that stopped rocking grubby dreadlocks after they left college. And preferably without any branding. Otherwise I'll be buying non-branded stuff with no proof of origin or manufacturing standards; I might as well go direct to the sweat shops in China.

If you, dear reader are aware of any such companies, please let me know, because, to be honest, it's getting desperate.

Its frightening to me how far some types of advertising can penetrate my mind, to the extant that I learn pretty much everything there is to know about a brand's message. This is not the beginning of a rant on the 'evils of advertising', but personally I worry how receptive I am towards the techniques.

Yesterday, I'm flicking through a Sunday newspaper, and despite looking for news about the escalating Middle East conflict, my eye settles on an advert for the TV channel Film 4. I'm scanning for news, not ads, so I try not to pay the ad any more than residual attention, however, I notice that there is a plane flying in the sky at the top right of the ad, with a banner towing behind it. The plane is a very small part of a busy advert, and for a second, I wonder why I noticed it. The banner is upside down; funny mistake to make, I think and move on to some comment about Putin and Bush trading blows at the G8.



Later that day, I'm watching a bit of telly before I go to bed, and up pops an advert for the same channel, Film Four. This time, its film star Lucy Lui dressed in WW2 Bomber gear, flying a plane with a banner floating behind it. Ground control radios to her that there is a problem… the banner is upside down. Before the ad finishes, I flick over to something else.



This morning, I wake up, and my mind is full of Film 4. Without having consciously studied the adverts, I can now tell you that Film 4, previously a subscription based TV channel that screens art house, classic and credible blockbuster films will be free to air next week. The film stars used to promote the event include the aforementioned Lucy, Ewan Mcgregor, Judi Dench, Ray Winstone and some others that I recognize but can't place. The Film 4 logo has changed to some boxed art deco type 4, white out of red. All this, and I didn't even pay attention to the ads, nor did I really want to know anything about the service (they only ever show Trainspotting and Shallow Grave anyway).



I have lost so many valuable real life memories to forgetfulness; my 18th birthday, the second date I had with my missus, the dinner I had last Tuesday… all gone. But I clearly remember a whole range of advertising campaigns that I've not watched throughout my life, from the Smash robots to the BA Delibes Sunflower Duets to Film Bloody 4. And here I am giving them free publicity on my blog. See how it works?

This is absolutely the last embarrassing image I'm posting on the blog. I'm far right, resplendent in Hi-Tecs (just about acceptable back then I think, but always the poor man's adidas), Pepe jeans (with obligatory plastic key ring), some fetching luminous pink toweling socks and I think that might be either a Snoopy or a Benetton sweatshirt.

Robert Allen (far left) on the other hand, was the undisputed label king at my school; Nikes, Farahs, adidas and thats most likely a Pierre Cardin jumper tied at the waist. I was so jealous of Robert; he had all the best gear and there was no struggle with his folks for them to buy it. Some were hand-me-downs from his ultra cool big brother, but who's caring when its Sergio Tacchini sunglasses and Lascoste tracksuits?

Robert, if you're out there, I blame you in part for my continuing brand madness. And if you still have those sneakers, I'll trade 'em for a Le Coq Sportif holdall.

Carol, the psychotherapist I'm seeing during this project, recently asked me to go through my old family photos so that we could analyze my childhood. This is one of the least embarrassing pics (and no I'm not posting any more).

Take a good look at the picture; it’s the 1982 indoor Cub Scout sports day, and Boorman is right there in the action. Lets ignore my hideous basin haircut for a moment and look at the outfits. All the guys in the background have got their brand new football team kits (even the socks) and some fetching pairs of adidas ( I think they're adidas Sambas).

Now look at me. Rubbish no-brand plimsoles from Woolworth's, socks of an unknown but equally hideous origin, and my junior school PE kit. The burning shame of it all.

If you asked me what I did last Tuesday, I probably wouldn't remember. I can however recall how embarrassed I was on that day back in the early 80's. Everyone had the right gear; the current football strips, the branded sneakers, the right footballs and the cool bags to carry them in. Everyone that is, except me.

Its memories like this I'm sure, that have caused me to overcompensate in later life. Today, nothing is left to chance. I may not be the smartest guy in the room, or the most successful or the most handsome, but boy, I'll always have the best-branded gear I can afford, and I'll be attempting to look the best that I possibly can.

As the fire draws nearer, I'm definitely weaning myself off this brand addiction. But I wonder if I'll ever be able to completely divorce myself from the anxiety I feel about my presentability to others. As long as there are photos like this to remind me of my early non-branded childhood, the answer is no. This picture is going on the fire. Good riddance.

Clyde Smith said...

You raise some interesting questions inspired by this family. I think the fact that he's a boy and some boys want to be like their dad should also be considered.

Clyde
You're right, not every boy must reject his parents as he grows older... there's certainly nothing wrong with healthy admiration for your parents; surely everyone wants/ needs to love and be loved by their folks.

I just see youth rebellion as an important factor in the progression of culture: yesterday's heroes become tomorrow's reactionaries and it's the job of the youth to rip it up and start again. And that doesn't mean dressing like your dad.



When I was editing Sleazenation, I was slightly worried that youth culture had come to a standstill; club culture had reached a dead end, celebrity was dominating the news and every aspect of youth had been bought up by Playstation and adidas. When the Face and Sleaze went down, it really did feel like the end of an age.



All I can say is good, I'm glad it happened. Look where we are now; my generation are looking at what the new kids are doing and are completely baffled (though we pretend to understand out of sheer desperation) which is how it should be. DIY rock, online communities, and the fashion; the new uniform of polysexual Russell Brand-style foppery is a complete anathema to you average Bathing-Ape-Star-Wars-Toy-Collecting-Hip-Hop lad. Suddenly all the things that The Face were championing five years ago are completely dead in the water. As long as the previous generation of youth feel irrelevant to the next, I reckon things are running smoothly.



Is this new generation as branded as the last? On the face of it, the answer is no. There's no overtly branded sportswear or designer gear to be seen (save Dior Homme for the rich kids). There's no iconic kit like the Technics or the Vespa or the VW Camper before. If anything, it’s the computer that links the igeneration together, but having a shiny new Mac to communicate with doesn't really seem to be the point. It really feels like a rejection of branded youth on their part.

An ad-planning friend of mine recently told me that the old platforms for branding are really starting to give way to the net. You can't imagine the new generation of kids sitting down to watch ITV of a Tuesday night, when they could be creating their own entertainment online. As business (Newscorp owns myspace of course) and brands (Apple sponsors Facebook communities) begin to appropriate this new energy, I wonder, will the kids continue to reject commerce or will they welcome it with open arms, as my generation did when we were young? As we bemoaned during the doomed relaunch of Sleaze…

'Selling out isn't an insult anymore, its an aspiration'

I was doing some field research on Carnaby Street yesterday, the Mecca for mid-market brands' flagship stores. Well, I call it research; I was basically browsing over things that I can no longer buy. Ball/ thigh/ calf hugging jeans, Coco The Clown colour sneakers, Seventies satin running shorts with the 'challenging' split up the side of the leg. I might be sounding cynical, but normally I would have snapped it all up. I used to be mates with a lot of the store managers around here (having spent my way into their hearts), but now my friendship buying power has evaporated and I'm not greeted with such enthusiasm.



Anyhow, I digress. In every shop I visited along the street, I began to notice this one couple and child browsing ahead of me; they were the nuclear branded family. She: resplendent in adidas Stan Smiths, Puma crop trousers and a Chanel bag. He: keeping it real in a Bathing Ape polo, Maharishi shorts and some old school Nike ninja sandals. The boy: head to toe Nike and a Beckham c. 2002 hairdo. All laden down with bags from Footlocker, Diesel, and Vans. It seemed perfectly natural to them to while away the day, spending money on each other, topping up their self-esteem with nice stuff. Why not, they've probably earned it. The boy looked sweet too.

This was all I wanted when I was a child… to have all the same branded stuff that the kids in the playground had. Even better, to have cool limited edition branded stuff from up town that no one in the playground had, but all would want. And for my Dad to take me up to London and get me all of this stuff? Boy, life would've been sweet.



As I delve deeper into my past with my therapist, I am discovering that one of the roots of my brand obsession stems from being denied these branded things when I was a small boy. The arguments we had over Diadora trainers and Lyle & Scott pullovers…. I would have been so much happier had I been like the boy in the picture here. Or would I? The deal back in 1981 was that my mates and I wanted to wear stuff that our parents didn't understand (add music and the Young Ones to that list also). The struggle to get these things was half of the fun. This boy here looks exactly like his Dad. At home do they listen to the same Dizzie Rascal CD's together? Watch the same risky after hours comedy show? Or have posters of the same heroes on their bedroom walls? No this is all wrong. If my parents had been branded up to the max, I would surely have gone the other way.

Some questions…

1. When did it become cool for kids to wear the same gear and listen to the same music as their parents?

2. Has youth culture become so commodified that people of any age can understand the codes and symbols of the young? Or are people simply refusing to grow up, thereby creating an aging youth?

3. What happened to the little store on Carnaby Street that sold posters of Linda Lusardi, Zippo lighters and joke plastic dog poo? There's a Boots there now.

My worst fears are coming true. I suspected that household and bathroom brands would be the hardest to replace, and it has come to pass: after searching for days, I found not one brand-free toothpaste, deodorant or bathroom cleaner… nothing. I now realize how much I love my Mr. Muscle toilet cleaner, Simple soap, Clynomyn toothpaste, Aveda shampoo. Don't get me started on fabric cleaning products. My trips to the John Lewis Fabric Care Department are unusually packed with fun (lots of stern but funky old ladies there for starters) and the feeling I get from having a full stock of Dylon Fabric Whitener, 3M Spray On Starch and Saddle Soap is, well, reassuring.



I didn't intend for this project to transform me into a frugal whole food DIY macrobiotic nutter, but I now find myself considering DIY shampoo recipes on the net. I'm sure you're all dying to know how one can save money, de-brand your bathroom cabinet and still keep a full body of shiny, manageable, stop traffic hair… so here's how.

Shampoo

4 oz of castile soap with any scent is that available – plain, peppermint, eucalyptus.

½ oz of rosemary - stimulates the hair follicles and helps to prevent premature baldness

½ oz of sage – has antioxidants and keeps things from spoiling and is antibacterial

½ oz of nettles – acts as a blood purifier, blood stimulator, contains a large source of nutrients for hair growth

½ of lavender – controls the production of sebaceous gland oil and reduces itchy and flaky scalp conditions

2000 mg of MSM – provides organic sulfur to your scalp, which improves the health and strength of your hair. It also helps to drive herbal nutrient into the skin and follicles where they can do the most good.

One empty 8 oz plastic bottle, or any other empty shampoo or soap bottle.

Mix the herbs in a mason jar, which has a lid. Boil 2 cups of distilled water. Add 3 heaping tablespoons of the mixed herbs into the boiling water. Pull the boiling water and herbs off the stove. Let the herb mixture sit for 30 – 40 minutes. Put the 2000mg of MSM into the herb mixture after 30 minutes of cooling. After 40 minutes and the MSM is melted, strain the herbal mixture into a bowl.

Pour 2 to 2 1/2 oz of strained herbal tea into the 8 oz plastic bottle. Now, pour the 4 oz of castile soap into the 8 oz plastic bottle. Cap the bottle and shake to mix the ingredients.

The shampoo is now finished and ready for use.

Last week I met with Russell Davies, the former worldwide account planner at Nike. I offered to take him out to a fancy restaurant called Bread And Wine, but he declined in favor of an old school Italian caff, explaining that he never pays more than ten pound for a meal. Well, Russell did write a book called
Eggs Bacon Beans & Chips, I should have known.

Contrary to the opinions of your average anti-corporate rabble-rouser, the likes of Mr. Davies are not the devil incarnate. I actually think it took a good deal of foresight to come and meet me, and then agree to contribute to the book, seeing as I've been very publicly burning pairs of Nikes for some time now. Come to think of it, most of the industry people I've met have been nothing but co-operative. It's been the opposing side, (The Church Of Stop Shopping, Adbusters) that have acted with suspicion and indifference towards the bonfire.





Anyhow, in an interesting parallel to something I'm doing for the book, Russell once took a shot of every brand that occupied his bathroom (I think it came to over 70). The brand focus on my blog has so far been on the luxury brands (clothes and cars) and they're always the things people assume I'll miss most when the whole lot burns. Actually, the toothpaste, deodorant and shampoo is going to be the hardest. I know of no non-branded alternatives to these things. Unless somebody posts a link for a no logo alternative to Colgate, its baking soda and mint for me come September.



Some clever clogs also asked me if I'm doing away with the Blue Circle mortar that binds the bricks of my flat. Err, lets just say I'm working on that one.