I've just been reading an interesting discussion on a LiveJournal sewing community about why customers are unwilling to pay prices which genuinely cover the cost of a handmade garment, whether it's a reconstructed t-shirt or a couture wedding dress. I've had many customers - individuals and other small businesses - come to me asking for hand-made clothing, only to disappear without a trace when I told them the price.
Thanks to companies like the dreaded Primark, clothes have become cheaper and cheaper to buy, and the actual cost of their manufacture (in both monetary and human terms) is no longer reflected in their selling price.
As an independent businesswoman in the UK, I am legally obliged to pay myself a minimum wage (currently £5.52 an hour) for my work - and yet in many cases I am simply not able to do that. If I charged the full amount of what my work was actually worth, my customers wouldn't be able to afford it, and I would make no money at all.
Unfortunately, by selling myself short, I devalue not only my own work, but also that of other business and craftspeople in a similar position, and I exacerbate the problem of customers expecting to pay cheaper prices.
If I were a computer programmer, I'd be charging an awful lot more than £5.52 an hour. Heck, if I were a plumber, I'd be charging more than ten times that! When did dressmaking, or any form of craft which requires a development of skill to learn, become such an undervalued occupation?
Harman Hay has written a really interesting article on the subject: Why do wedding dresses cost so much?
I've been the lady hand-sewing the beads onto your precious dress, and I've listened patiently to the complaints about the cost of the alterations when I've had to hem, by hand, all ten tulle petticoat layers under your skirt. I can state unequivocally that although I was paid slightly more than minimum wage for doing that job, neither I, nor the husband and wife team who ran that independent bridal store, were making our fortune from the cost of that work.
I've also had several brides come to me, assuming that because I was making them a "home made" dress, it would be much cheaper than one bought off the peg. In actual fact what I would be making is a couture dress, which is a different thing altogether!
Last week I wore a dress that I'd made myself, to work. One of our customers expressed surprise that the dress was "home made", because "it looked really neat". Now I have eleven years' experience as a dressmaker - of course my sewing is neat! Would you react with surprise if you hired a plumber with eleven years' experience, and he turned out to do a good job? No, and you'd pay him good money to do it.
The lady who made the comment obviously had no way of knowing that I've been a dressmaker for a long time, but it made me very sad that "made by hand" in her expectation was inextricably linked to "looks a bit rubbish". The current rise in popularity of "DIY" and reconstructed clothing is also doing nothing to disabuse people of this notion, as so many sellers of this style are using the term "DIY" to apparently mean that they don't have to finish seams or be able to sew well.
Now I'm completely self-taught, so I have no issues whatsoever about people just getting in there and having a go! I've written a couple of tutorials for simple skirts, and I hope to write more in the future. I also enjoy reconstructing t-shirts, and making clothes out of recycled materials. However, I do believe that if you're going to sell your work, then there are some fairly basic standards that need to be applied. Otherwise, once again, you're lowering the standards and expectations that apply to all of us.
I don't think I'm ever going to be able to make a living from my dressmaking, and that makes me very sad. It's not going to stop me from sewing, because I really enjoy it, but I do wish that it were possible for more people to understand the value of these skills that I've worked hard to attain.
2 weeks ago
2 comments:
Well, of course, in a capitalist society value is determined contractually - through an agreement between how much the purchaser is willing to pay and how little the producer is willing to charge. William Morris discovered this, and became a communist on the strength of it. He wished to reintroduce handicraft production of tapestries, wallpapers, furniture, bookbinding, etc. into late-nineteenth century society, and found only the wealthy could afford to buy his crafts. This angered him into becoming politically active (a rare case of art leading to political action). Of course, Morris's solution (the abolution of machine production) was flawed; he thought, given the abolition of the profit motive and the creation of workers' choice, we'd all choose to partake in hand-production and to acquire hand-produced goods. However, he seemed oblivious to the fact that many people are not overly concerned about the personalised style of hand-production, and he seemed blind to the emerging reality that machine production could create quality goods (if not as varied and personalised as hand-production). Nonetheless, Morris's solution - a socialist basis of production - was correct, though for the wrong reasons. Handicrafts are a manifestation of applied art and so, in society, will be admired, desired and acquired for the same reasons (or rather from the same emotions) as one might purchase a painting. Artistic acquisitions are an extension of one's personality, and so handicraftspersons - in a capitalist or a socialist society - will always remain victims of the whims of the consumer. However, the legitimate grievance of the handicraftsperson might be that there are many persons who would like to consume their productions but cannot afford to do so. The transformation of society from captialist (i.e., production for profit) into socialist (i.e., production for use - including 'cultural' use) would level the playing field for the artisan. Thus, bookish types who are careless (in the literal sense of that word) about their appearance - those who are merely utilitarian, eg. - would purchase the cheaper machine-made garments (assured in the knowledge that they were not made by alienated labour [i.e., not machine-minders on inhuman wages] but by empowered workers [i.e., machine operatives on a living wage, and with an input into the productive policies of the factory]) and use their excess purchasing power for artisitic productions of their preference (music, literature, paintings, etc.). In such a scenario, however, the artisan would not be competing with machine-goods produced exploitatively for profit, but would be competing with other craft and art producers for the good taste of the cultural consumer. In short, while socialism would not eliminate competition from arts and crafts production (the only aspect of production apart from procreation that would still involve competition in a socialist society - albeit artistic as against sexual), the playing field would be levelled: the artisan and artist who won public favour (and this is as much about educating taste as about being the 'better' artist) would succeed; the one who didn't win public favour would fail. However, the failure would be much less bitter (though perhaps no less humiliating) given the fact that the artisitc producer at least had a fair shot and didn't make the grade. Of course, under socialist conditions, the number of artisans and artists able to operate would be far greater than under capitalism, and even the 'failed' craftsperson would be able to pursue their misunderstood (by the public) or quirky vocation as a hobby, working at something else to contribute their required lot to the fund of human happiness and - who knows - they might ultimately convince public taste that they are able artisans, and thus make the grade through a more circuitous route than their 'instant hit' rival. You can call this my own 'Dream of John Ball' if you like....
Thank you for all of that! I've just discovered that I have a book containing William Morris' thoughts on Socialism sitting on my bookshelf - I'll have a read. :)
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