Embodying Intentionality
And being a crypto bro hater.
I’ve been really into arguing with crypto bros lately.
They’re so caught up in the innovation of it all. The novelty. They’re inexorable in their argument that digital fashion, be it in the form of AR fitting rooms or NFTs, is the inevitable future of fashion as we know it.
Don’t get me wrong, I think innovation and novelty are valuable, but sometimes I wonder, at what cost? What about the things we leave behind?
Sure, NFTs and AR and Web3 and all that they encompass are progressing at light speed and we’re all going to have to come around to it in some capacity, at some point or another. That’s the way our modern world works: a new technology surfaces, there are a handful of enthusiastic early adopters, and eventually the rest of us catch up. But the amount of value that some place on the Metaverse and its subsidiaries scares me. In all of its boundary-breaking and innovation, it leaves behind the beauty of real life.
I recently had the opportunity to see Peter Do interviewed at Notre. Admittedly, he was only vaguely on my radar until a couple of days before I saw his interview, and I was much the worse for it. While a single sentence comes nowhere near to summing his accomplishments, it’s worth noting that he was awarded the LVMH Graduate Prize in 2014, going on to work with the likes of Phoebe Philo and Derek Lam before starting his eponymous label in 2018. His words were impactful, informed, and refreshingly grounded.
Do spoke about the intricacies of design, and the detail that goes into each piece. He explained that when a sleeve is rotated a mere quarter of an inch in one direction, it flows with the movement of the arms more naturally. He spelled out the specifics, down to the type of needle used, that each garment requires. His every choice feels steeped in intentionality and deliberation.
I kept asking myself: how can digital fashion even hold a candle to this?
For centuries, designers and their teams have put painstaking care, practice, and dedication into creating physical garments. They pair weights and textures in a way that makes the clothing move just how they want it. Each color is deliberate, each embellishment has a purpose, each stitch is an integral part of a sartorial whole. Call me a traditionalist, but I’m inclined to believe that digital fashion falls painfully short of the bar that all those years of craftsmanship have set.
I stepped out of that interview with one word resounding in my mind: intentional. It’s a trait that feels sorely lacking in our world these days. I think it’s one of those things that you don’t realize is absent until you see a true example of it. And that’s what I witnessed in Peter Do, both in the articulation of his approach and in his designs themselves.
For me, it begs the question: what is the point? What’s the point of the clothes I choose to put on every day? Why am I pairing A with B, or X with Y? I can’t accept the answer “because I saw it in a TikTok,” or “because it’s trending,” anymore. At least not from myself. I think that style is one of the truest windows into someone’s personality. People rummage through their closets, picking different pieces to wear each day for a reason, and that reason is often deeply personal. Some people dress for utility. Others dress to feel beautiful. Others dress for comfort, or camp, or to experiment. Real, tangible clothing connects people in a way that is so comforting, and in my mind, digital fashion can’t quite measure up.
Maybe one day I’ll come around to fashion in the Metaverse in a way that’s less begrudging, and more out of my own interest. But for now, I’m content to read about it and observe. I’m content to choose my clothes each day with intention, feeling their fabric between my fingers as I sift through my closet and fiddling with the silhouettes as I ponder in front of my mirror.
And from those intentional selections will come conversation and connection. I’ll laugh with my cousin when I show up to Sunday brunch wearing the same pair of 550s as he is, only several sizes smaller. I’ll share in a stranger’s excitement over the structure of my Jacquemus bag. I’ll hold mock fashion shows with my roommates weekend after weekend as we decide whether we’re dressing for style or comfort that night.
Sorry crypto bros, but I don’t think you’ll win me over on this one.
xo, Ellie