23. La Rentrée, Louis XIV, and the Fashion Industry
Bonjour ça va?
Or should I say, bonjour tristesse. It’s officially la rentrée in France—that time of year when Parisians begrudgingly drag their feet back to the nation’s capital post-August abroad. September is an absolutely miserable time of year. No one wants to be back at work, and I can’t imagine who could possibly want summer to ever end! La tristesse in the air is heavy and I do not like it (if you’ve been following my newsletter for a while, you may have clued on to the fact that I’m a sensitive little sunflower).
Luckily I’ve had a slew of work to distract me, including this lovely interview I did with three of the Zimbabwean sommeliers from the film Blind Ambition. They are incredibly insightful and make a strong case for why the old wheel of aromas for wine tasting needs to be updated. I’ve also had a big feature published for i-D on adaptive fashion, that is, garments designed to meet the needs of the disabled. Any of us can end up disabled at any stage of our life so I encourage you all to have a read.
Writing this newsletter is a labour of pure love so if you enjoy my writing, please consider Buying Me a Coffee. It’s a wonderful initiative that allows people to support creatives, like myself, with a small donation at the price of a coffee!
On that note, if you know me IRL or follow me elsewhere on the world wide web, then you’ll know that the bulk of my published writing is on fashion. Yet for some odd reason, I’ve never broached the topic in this newsletter. This is all the stranger given that Paris is sans doute the global capital de la mode. So, it naturally follows that for this issue I want to take a deep dive into how France created the fashion industry as we know it. Whether you share my passion for fashion or not, every human is somewhat implicated by the industry—because you gotta get dressed every day (unless you’re a nudist, but I’ll save that discussion for a future issue on Paris’ underground nudist scene).
The Sun King’s Passion for Fashion
It all started some 300 years ago with everyone’s favourite Sun King Louis XIV (husband of Marie Antoinette). Before Louis XIV came to power, Madrid was the capital of fashion—Spain had been enjoying its two hundred-yearlong Golden Age and as the saying (unfortunately) goes, taste follows power. Spanish fashion was incredibly dark and austere, and prided itself on the continuity of its never changing silhouettes. The garments were a heavy black, not just to appeal to Catholic decorum, but because black was an incredibly expensive dye—it was a way to flaunt one’s wealth.
But old Sun King quickly set about using his time on the throne to establish himself, and his kingdom of France, as the international tastemakers. Through a series of strict rules, of which the most important was a ban on the import of any garment that could potentially be made in France (he famously burnt his son’s coat because it was made from a foreign fabric), he grew fashion into a lucrative export commodity for the country and exploded the domestic labour market. During his reign, one-third of all French workers were employed in the fashion industry.
Louis XIV also fashioned himself as crown tastemaker, the equivalent of a modern-day influencer. His love for colour and flair was the exact opposite of Spanish style, and he became known for his signature red high heel shoes. Versailles, which prior to his reign was used as a hunting lodge, was transformed into somewhat of a showroom: noble classes from across Europe were invited around to discover showcases of the best of French culture, including fashion. For those who couldn’t make it, or weren’t invited, to the royal palace, Louis XIV sent out engravings promoting French fashion. Detailed imagery of garments being worn by fictional characters was coupled with creative copy that told the stories of each persona, laced with dark, often sexual, humour. This was the beginning of fashion marketing.
But perhaps Sun King’s most monumental, and longest-lived, contribution to the world of fashion was the development of the fashion calendar, and with it, the concept of seasonal dressing. Louis XIV’s Minister for Finance, Jean-Baptiste Colbert, mandated that new textiles be developed seasonally, for l’hiver and l’été. This in turn encouraged people to update their wardrobes (and spend money!) twice a year. The summer season began promptly on Pentecost and winter on All Saint’s Day, November 1. Other countries quickly began to copy this notion of a fashion calendar because of the tremendous economic benefits.
Gross colonialism reference aside, I think Colbert summed up France’s fashion industry pretty neatly when he declared that “fashion is to France what the gold mines of Peru are to Spain.” Even today, the country’s fashion industry represents a whopping 2.7% of its GDP, which is more than the automobile and aeronautical industries combined. Sales from French fashion brands bring in approximately 45 billion euros a year (or 61 billion euros if you include brands owned by French groups, which is just about every major luxury house.) Paris Fashion Weeks, which is by far the most important of all the cities, bring in some 400 million euros alone. France’s position as the capital of fashion does not like likely to wane any time soon (if ever).
As someone whose morals grind awkwardly against the extreme consumption associated with fashion, I think an important point to raise is that French fashion, for the most part and especially haute couture, is creativity-driven, and not consumer-driven (though obviously Arnault and Pinault would still like them to generate money whilst they’re at it). This is not at all to say that the luxury houses are therefore exempt from their responsibilities towards the environment and humanity. But despite calls to break toxic production-consumption cycles, this will never happen as these houses serve a more esoteric interest: art and creativity.
I could wax lyrical about the importance of fashion for self-expression, identity, cultural escapism etc etc but I guess the question that gnaws at me endlessly is how to consume responsibly. The only way I’ve found, and that allows me to sleep at night, is to buy second-hand—and luckily Paris is home to some treasure troves of vintage and consignment luxury fashion. It’s a lot more fun to trawl through these stores for a hidden gem than to queue in line for hours outside Louis Vuitton on Avenue Montaigne. And, for the most part, older garments are of a lot better quality and craftsmanship than what is produced today. I love researching the history of the garments and imagining the life that was lived in them before me.
So after this very courte introduction to the empire of French fashion, I’ll leave you with my Rolodex of the best consignment and vintage clothing shops. The best I’ve found are spread evenly across Le Marais, the 16th arrondissement (the wealthiest part of Paris), and Marché Paul Bert Serpette (which deserves a whole issue to itself). There are a lot of kilo shops (where you can buy clothes based on their weight) but these are too much of a headache for me. Godspeed to you if you have the patience to sift through the mountains of clothes!
Le Marais
Odetta Vintage
A small, curated selection of both vintage and consignement designer goods but everything is in very good condition.
Sissi’s Corner
Sissi has a gem of a collection of vintage designer goods and she herself is a gem! She is so incredibly knowledgeable about the history of fashion and every product she is selling, it’s worth a visit just to chat with her.
En voiture Simone
A great selection of vintage clothing, with a lot of designer pieces. Everything is fairly priced and in great condition. I come here for the vintage Issey Miyake and Pleats Please.
Palace Calas
Higher-end vintage so can be a bit pricey but everything is in immaculate collection and there are a lot of wonderful, unique (colourful!) pieces to be found here.
Chez Snowbunny
For the Y2K devotees. Lots of Kenzo, Roberto Cavalli, etc to be found here amongst other non-designer pieces. On the cheaper end of the second-hand market.
The Vintage
THE place to go for denim, especially Levi 501s. The owner is so passionate about denim and very helpful in guiding you towards the right fit. The prices are incredibly reasonable for a pair of vintage 501s. I think they are around 60€ a pair, or 110€ for two.
Gaijin Paris
A store dedicated entirely to vintage Japanese fashion. There are the most incredible pieces of Yohji Yamamoto, Kenzo, Issey Miyake, Junya Watanabe etc, as well as great vintage military wear. One of the best vintage shops in Paris.
16e arrondisement
These are all a lot more designer and luxury heavy but given the local population, you can be sure to score some great deals and track down unique pieces at these stores.
Lorette & Jasmin
CornerLuxe
MentionLuxe
Dépôt 22
A la prochaine !