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This logo makes your personality
look small. |
There's a store in Santa Cruz named
Logos Books and Records. During the two summers I lived in Santa Cruz (1983–84), it was a favorite of mine. They sold both new and used records and books, but unlike most used-record stores, they also rented LPs the way video stores eventually loaned VHS tapes and DVDs. I make a point of stopping there when I'm in Santa Cruz.
I remember arguing with one of my many roommates of the time about the meaning of the word
logos. She insisted it was the plural of the word
logo, meaning a symbol or other small design that identifies products, uniforms, vehicles, and so on. I argued that it referred to the Greek term
logos, which means
word. (The most common use of this sense in English today is in the context of Christian theology: "And the Word [
logos] was made flesh, and dwelt among us" [John 1:14]). There is, however, a third definition: the principle of reason and judgment, a meaning used primarily in the context of Jungian psychology.
(I asked the store on their Facebook
page if it the name referenced the Greek word for
Word. They responded with a single word: "Indeed!")
That my long way of getting to the point of this post, which is logos in the first sense described above. They are a fashion blight.
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| $40 for jeans? Outrageous! |
When I was a teen or tween (we called them
pre-teens then), my parents chastised me for wanting Nike swoosh-emblazoned sneakers and H.A.S.H. star-butted jeans. Why should I pay to walk around advertising someone's product? The answer was self-evident to me: because they're cool! Why were they cool? Because the cool kids wore them! Everyone who was anyone in junior high and high school wore them.
I'm sure there are books and college courses that address logos in depth. Here I'll limit my analysis. The primary fashion purpose of a logo is to make the shorthand statement that the wearer has the lifestyle the brand represents. A Louis Vuitton bag says "I have money and taste." An Ed Hardy t-shirt says "I'm wild." Juicy Couture sweatpants say "I'm sassy and fun."
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But Mommmmm, they're in my
school's colors! |
Or at least that's the goal. But if you know the person carrying the Louis Vuitton bag drives a Toyota Tercel, the shorthand changes to mean "I don't know how to manage my money," or, if the item is a knock-off, "I'm undiscerning enough to buy a knock-off," or "I don't think other people can discern quality," all of which are the opposite of what the person carrying the bag wants to convey. In 2012, an Ed Hardy t-shirt says either "I'm a trend follower," which is the opposite of "wild," or possibly "I'm a hipster," because the wearer knows the shirt is so uncool that it's actually cool. The Juicy Couture sweatpants say "I'm insecure and need you to know I'm wearing something expensive so that you can recognize I have value."
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| Yes, I would accept one of these. |
This last statement pretty much describes the message I get from logos. Yes, I know Louis Vuitton goods are fabulously well crafted, but there are equally well-crafted similar goods available not covered with logos. The logo tells me that the person carrying the item didn't trust his own judgment enough to pick something without the logo, or the person thinks others are too undiscerning to know quality without having it labeled. What if no one can tell the alternative was well-made and expensive? Well I can tell, and I'm much more impressed by a Hermes handbag or Dunhill wallet with the logo limited to a single small location.
At the other end of the scale, t-shirts with logos for Chevrolet or Budweiser or NPR are suitable for painting, watching TV, or sleeping, but not for wearing out of the house. Who wants to have his identity reduced to the vehicle he drives, the beer she drinks, or the radio program he listens to? Who wants to be known only as an employee of he company he works for?
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If you're over 30 and still wear
one of these, you may have
a drinking problem. |
So I eschew logos. I've even removed them from items on which the logo was limited to a stitched-on tag. Real style doesn't require a logo. Real style stands on its own. In fact, logos are a distraction from real style. They draw attention away from you and to the manufacturer, designer, or company associated with the logo.
And yes, I know you can't escape logos entirely. Jeans and sneakers are going to have logos as design elements. The issue isn't whether the item has a logo on it, but whether the logo dominates the item.
And finally, if you want to wear logos, if that's your style, go for it!
Own those logos! Make people think how lucky the logo is to be worn by you.
[The topic of this blog entry was inspired by
Terry Colon.]
I love this, for all sorts of reasons. One of which is ego-driven, because I get to show off a bit: Greek (classical or Koine) is a lovely and complex language, and logos is one of the most complex words in the whole lexicon, meaning everything from "computation" to "the personification of the Wisdom of God." Here we are over 2,000 years later and it's still complex: all of that, plus everything from butt-labeling to socioeconomic handbaggery.
ReplyDeleteI used to work at the Christian book store Logos in the U District (Seattle) and several times had people want to know what logos (company symbols) had to do with religion. Sigh.
ReplyDeleteRegarding the wearing of logos, I used to worry about it more. I'd take tags off and cover up tags. But then I just ceased to care. If I like something and it has a logo, oh well. It's fairly recent, but I just don't really give a damn what people think of me or my clothes. I dress to please myself.
I loved that store. It seemed so... thoughtfully Christian rather than constraining and judge-y. (I frequented it during a time when I was affiliated with the more conservative Seventh-day Adventists.) Thinking of it now makes me a little nostalgic.
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