Just Another Post on Cognitive Dissonance Created by the Difference Between Real Life and Fashion Marketing

I own several pairs of pants purchased from L. L. Bean.  In spite of the fact that over the last ten years, more and more merchandise I purchase at L. L. Bean is cheaply constructed in third world countries and thus less consistent in fit, ever flimsier, and more likely to fall apart quickly, most of the things I buy there are still superior quality to much of what I see for sale elsewhere, which is mostly also cheaply constructed in third world countries.  Although L. L. Bean is growing and building more and more stores, it seems less able to fulfill its founder's mission by, for example, repairing free of charge things like the cheap plastic zipper in one of my favorite pairs of pants which shouldn't have been there in the first place, which I think never would have been there twenty years ago, and which only wore out after five or six wearings because it is a cheap plastic zipper not a sturdy metal one.  Still, L. L. Bean will replace the whole pair of pants free of charge if I can bring myself to part with it.  Though I am not in favor of this kind of waste, it's nice to get good customer service.  And I may end up going that way if I don't decide to let the dry cleaner charge me almost the price of the pants to replace the zipper with another I will have to purchase elsewhere.

Those pants are my favorites because they are very soft and cozy.  They are not terribly durable though.  The hems are already a little shredded, again after really not that much wear.  Better pants, and more versatile pants which I own include my black "Double L" jeans and my comfort-waist "Bayside Twill" khaki pleated pants. 

To see how the latter look on a skinny model in the catalog, hit the linked text or go to page 24-25 in the latest women's holiday catalog.  I'll wait here while you do.

Now here's how they look (size 18) on me:

I think this is an excellent advertisement for these pants, as well as for the shoes (ventilated "Comfort Mocs" not for sale in the winter) and henley-style shirt (no longer being offered) which I also bought at L. L. Bean -- and not exactly last year.  As you can clearly see, I wear the hell out of this stuff.  I put it through things.  And though I don't look like the models in the catalog or online -- and probably no one would buy them if this were the photograph published in the catalog -- I think all this stuff looks okay on me.

Here's more of a sporty, action pose:

Yeah, my fake leg deforms the look totally, but notice how roomy those pockets are!  Since the case for the digital camera I'm using is strapped geekily to my waistband, goodness only knows what's in that foremost hip pocket.  It's not my wallet, and it's not my keys.  It could be anything from a kleenex packet to a small notebook and pen.  The other hip pocket is not exactly empty, either, and yet there's still room in those pants for me to move comfortably with my prosthetic leg socket, the strap holding it on, and my capacious posterior inside as well.  Not bad!

The funny thing is, even though I know this is what I look like in the middle of a day wearing these pants, in my head I still picture myself like the catalog model, so every time I catch sight of my reflection somewhere, it's a little bit of a jolt.  Again, when I view this as objectively as possible, I don't think I look bad.  However, the things that make these garments valuable to me -- comfort, durability -- and the things about these garments of which I am most clearly making use were not the most prominent things used to sell them to me.  The way they look on a model is the most prominent sales tool.  I would not have bought them if I did not also think they were comfortable, durable, and reasonably priced for the use I would get out of them.  But I also probably would not have bought them if the page in the catalog looked like either of these photographs, or like any of the photographs in my tricycle post, where I am also wearing these pants while actively going about my life.  At least that's what I think.  I can't know for sure, though, because even though lots of L. L. Bean catalog photos have people seeming to actively use their clothes and other products, none of the models are ever big women with big tits, enormous biceps and thighs nearly as thick as their waists, and none of the clothes ever really look like anything that wasn't ironed and sticky-papered free of all lint within the ten minutes prior to the shot being snapped.

Isn't that an interesting question?  If the catalog models really looked like relatives or peers of mine and really looked like they'd been hiking all day in those clothes, would a consumer like me still buy the clothes?  Common marketing wisdom says "no," but has it ever been tried?

I am too befuddled by my headcold to draw any cogent conclusions about Our Culture or The State of World from all this.  I think it would be very interesting if everyone who owned a favorite garment purchased from a catalog or online would also post photos showing what s/he looked like in said garment -- and not right when s/he put it on, but like in these photos, after a good six or seven hours of wear -- and comparing those photos to the photographs that sold the garment.  That is something I would very much like to see.

Oh, look, another potential meme.  I wonder if anyone at all will pick it up.  Time may tell.

Of course what would be really interesting to find out would be whether this would sell any of the garments photographed, assuming any of the garments were still or chronically available, like my pants.  Sadly, that data would be terribly difficult to track.

Comments

[The Goldfish]

One thing I have seen is a programme offered by some on-line shops where you type in your measurements, colouring and so on and they create a virtual model for trying on clothes. But even then, they want you to buy stuff, so the clothes always fit in a flattering way on the picture, even if the picture is at least more representative of your actually size and shape.

The happiest compromise I can think of is to have a variety of sizes and shapes of models and put the models in the most flattering clothes for their particular shape.

I have a large bra size, and the shop where I buy my undies has been pioneering in the use of naturally large-chested models to advertise bras for larger cup sizes. The models are still beautiful, slim and lovely, but the bras fit their bosoms like they would fit mine - I wouldn't look nearly so great in my underwear, but it does help me make a judgement on issues like shape, support, coverage, what neck-line I could get away with etc..

Ultimately, they can't satisfy everybody; I spend most of my time sat down, which can completely change the appearance and shape of clothes. But I do think that marketing is very often driven by convention; they stick to what works, but this doesn't necessarily mean that there isn't another way which might work better if they were prepared to take a risk.

[Sara]

Ugh, the virtual models are absolutely terrible. Since, for some reason, they can't ask the same number of questions a tailor measures, the person who ends up being created to look like you simply doesn't.

I don't actually want a carbon copy of myself. And again, I'm not even sure I would buy clothes if they were modeled on people who really did look like me and seemed really to live like me, e.g., iron-free. (I know we have an iron. And an ironing board. I just couldn't tell you where we put it when we moved in. I don't think my boyfriend could, either.) But I suddenly realized in the haze of this cold I had until yesterday that I will probably never find out, and it made me sad in a hot, dizzy, stuffy-nosed kind of way.

I'm also disappointed in myself for ever picturing myself like the person in the photo and suffering the jar I described. I know these pictures are irrelevant to my reality and that I look just fine anyway; I do. But apparently I don't, not completely. And that's a little freaky. And I wonder how many other people are wandering around with similar if partial delusions, and how many others would dare to make this side-by-side comparison and hold it up for everyone to see. I think I know why most people won't, and that makes me sad.

There's a woman with a blog called "NakedJen" which I only learned about because of NaBloPoMo and the dedicated readers reviewing all the blogs. Jen posts a picture of herself naked or at least topless almost every day. I think this is a goofy thing to do, and maybe a little dangerous, but I still can't help but think it might be healthier than being afraid to show other people pictures of ourselves because we think we might be perceived as ugly in them. I'm not judging anyone a weakling; I am very nutty about how few pictures I allow other people to take of me. But I am sad that we worry so much about this. I think it steals a little of our lives.

[miz_geek]

I know this is an old post, but what the heck.

1. I used to get a clothing catalog from some woman-owned, feminist, etc. company that used regular employees as models. I don't remember the name of it, though, but the clothes actually looked normal on them.

2. Don't feel too bad about returning stuff to LL Bean. Back when I was younger and poorer, I lived in a town with an Eddie Bauer distribution center. I had practically an entire wardrobe of Eddie Bauer returns. Heck, I still wear some of them (10 years later). I'm guessing LL Bean has a similar secret store. Flaws that seem huge when you pay $40 for something seem to disappear when you've paid $2.

3. On the topic of a different post: I love that my local grocery chain tells me where my produce is from, and especially notes the locally- and regionally-grown stuff. Yes, they import stuff to keep the shelves stocked out of season, but the apples were wonderful and the more prosaic veggies were good, too.

[Sara]

Hey, Miz Geek, thanks for visiting.

1. If you ever remember the name of that company, tell me! That sounds great. I am also really interested in seeing clothes modeled more frequently as though they are really being worn, not posed. It's true that I'm not likely to buy a T-shirt with a coffee stain all over it (though any that I do buy will surely each have at least one of its own someday). However, I want to know how a T-shirt looks on a big-chested woman who raises her arms over her head, for example, or how pants look when you bend over in them, and after you sit down in them, not just how they will look for the first five minutes after a skinny model puts them on. I'm very interested in seeing examples anyone can show me of this kind of marketing. I don't think I've ever seen it, or seen it enough.

2. We will not discuss Eddie Bauer. I have been angry with Eddie Bauer since approximately 1990 when I experienced some of the worst service I've ever received in my life. And while I'm really glad you've had good luck with your fabulous outlet finds, my experience of their overall product quality after approximately 1985 has been strictly negative.

It's also better for my blood pressure if we don't discuss how the quality of L. L. Bean's products seems to be going the way of Eddie Bauer increasingly as the company grows and spreads. I have it in my head that once upon a time -- like, maybe even as recently as 1994 -- all or most of L. L. Bean's clothing was union-made in the USA. Now almost none of it is, and it shows in the quality. Grrr. Still, even with the number of returns I have made to L. L. Bean regarding this kind of disappointment, and even with the returns I don't want to make in spite of that kind of disappointment which I am having to take into my own hands to remediate, I still think Bean's clothes are among the best made in the marketplace. Also, they get further praise from me because in the sporting goods and practical clothes marketplace, not that many manufacturers even offer high-performance or halfway well-made everyday clothing in my size. Bean, however, has been gradually increasing its own size range. It still offers "cute" clothes that are only available in "cute" sizes, but these are usually not Bean's own label. I applaud its understanding that big girls hike, too. Now if it could just realize that this includes buxom women and offer all its tops (including knits) in breadths that stay buttoned (where applicable) and ungapped even with arms in second position and in lengths that will accommodate raising arms in, say, tree pose without the wearer having to flash her belly, its size range will be perfect.

As for outlets, you surmise correctly. L. L. Bean has two outlet stores of which I am aware, one in Portland, ME, and one just north of Nashua, NH. Not secret at all! And even stuff you buy there is subject to the 100% lifetime satisfaction guarantee.

3. Yes. I like that, too. It's educational, too, besides being increasingly effective marketing. It gives you a sense of your place as a consumer in the world, if that makes sense.