Humanities Core Course, Week X: Contemporary Scenes of Making

Lecture 10a: Cool Hunting and “Thinking with Jane Jacobs” (with readings by Malcolm Gladwell in the HCC Reader)

 

1. From Street Photography to Street Fashion

Last time we ended with street photography as a special kind of “making in places,” in particular urban places. Street photography was born at the same time as Impressionist painting, and shared with it an interest in capturing the random images cast up by the “sidewalk ballet” of modern urban life. Contemporary street photography, unlike the more historical genre as practiced by Eugene Atget, Paul Strand, or Weegee, is a heavily “youth” genre (young people checking out other young people); it is also digital, social, mobile, and global. (The merging of the camera and the phone captures these qualities of contemporary street photography.)

 

Street fashion (what kids in different cities are choosing to put on their bodies) is a frequent subject of street photography. In his essay “The Cool Hunt,” literary journalist Malcolm Gladwell writes,

 

“What they have is what everyone seems to want these days, which is a window on the world of the street. Once, when fashion trends were set by the big couture houses -- when cool was trickle-down -- that wasn’t important. But sometime in the past two decades things got turned over, and fashion became trickle-up. It’s now about chase and flight -- designers and retailers and the mass consumer giving chase to the elusive prey of street cool -- and the rise of coolhunting as a profession shows how serious the chase has become.” (HCC Reader, p. 120).

 

Even high fashion is increasingly influenced by street fashion – by the stuff that young urban people actually wear, often in highly specific subcultures such as hip-hop, skateboarding, snowboarding, the club scene, and gang culture. Gladwell documents how coolhunting developed as a way for big companies like Reebok, Nike, and Tommy Hilfiger to find out what’s cool and translate it into new product lines that will play outside the Bronx, in mainstream American suburbs and lesser cities. (For a database of street fashion generated by a global network of young street photographers, see http://lookbook.nu/lookbook.nu [link provided by HCC student Wendy Guevara].)

 

Gladwell describes the cycle by which a particular street culture spontaneously generates a new trend or style; a cool hunter picks up on it; the style gets mainstreamed through branding and mass-marketing as well as word-of-mouth; and the style finally loses its cool due to overexposure.

 

Gladwell gives the “three rules of cool” (p. 130):

1. It takes one to know one.

2. You can’t manufacture it.

3. As soon as you call it “cool,” it stops being cool.

 

The first principle in particular is associated with what Gladwell calls “the hermeneutic circle of cool”: you can only “know” something’s cool if you’re a bit cool yourself.

 

The hermeneutic circle: the movement back and forth between the parts and the whole of a text, or between the text and its context, a movement that depends on some element of former knowledge or exposure to the thing being studied.

 

THE GLOBAL HUNT FOR COOL

Although Gladwell focuses on the American cycle of cool, he quotes his cool hunter DeeDee Gordon on the styles of Japan:

 

“DeeDee is convinced that Japan is happening. ‘I went to Japan and saw the kids just baling the most technologically advanced Nikes with their little dresses and little outfits, and I’m like, “Whoa, this is trippy! It’s performance mixed with fashion. It’s really superheavy.’” (“The Coolhunt,” HCC Reader, 121)

 

So, let’s take a trip to Japan – more specifically, to the Harajuku district in Tokyo.

> 1940s and 50s: Site of U.S. military residences after World War II

> 1960s: meeting place for Japanese kids wanting to know more about Western culture

> Major Japanese fashion labels began in this district (Comme des Garçons).

> Global cool-hunters go to Harajuku to see what Japanese kids are wearing, reversing the flow of the cool hunt. (It’s no longer Japanese kids checking out what the Americans are wearing, but American trend-spotters checking out what Japanese kids are wearing.)

 

MILK

Designer: Hitomi Okawa; founded in 1970

The look: “cute punk”

“girly, romantic, and feminine, but not sexual”: part of kawaii culture (kawaii = “cute”). Kawaii derives its cute energies from a variety of sources, including girly handwriting, anime, “cute” toys and merchandise, and Harajuku street fashion.

 

FRESH FRUITS

This is a fashion “fanzine” started by street photographer Shoichi Aoki, documenting the street style of Tokyo’s urban and suburban youth. (Remember what DeeDee Gordon said: “Whoa, this is trippy! It’s performance mixed with fashion. It’s really superheavy.’”)

 

FAN ART, dependent on anime, also partakes in kawaii values (as shared by HCC student Stephanie Hufford).

 

“RESOLUTION”: “a Music Video with clips from a Computer Graphics movie based

after a Japanese video game called Final Fantasy VII.” Link shared by HCC student Samantha Burkett. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hM6w3V3l3kU

 

BAPE: A bathing ape

Founded by “Nigo,” the company’s art director and sole proprietor in 1993.

clothes ... shoes ... hair ... cafes ... records ...

 

Cool hunter = Hiromi Okawa,  the founder of Milk (Harajuku District designer) and the patron of young designers

Subculture = Ura-Hara (short for Ura-Harajuku, or “under Harajuku”)

Main-streaming = BAPE stores everywhere, including BAPE Kids.

Losing its cool? = featured in a Humanities Core lecture. How cool can it really be??

 

COOL-HUNTING [Lupton’s take]

Coolhunting is the means by which the sidewalk ballets of individual streets and specific subcultures go global. Street photography is a kind of freelance, freeform coolhunting. Corporate coolhunting employs cool people to discover cool -- but, like most hunters, also, eventually, to destroy it. Who loses and who gains when a subculture goes mainstream?

 

2. Thinking with Jane Jacobs: Office Design

MALCOLM GLADWELL ON JANE JACOBS

Most developers did not want to build the kind of community Jacobs talked about, and most Americans didn’t want to live in one.  ... Who, after all, does have a direct interest in creating diverse, vital spaces that foster creativity and serendipity? Employers do. On the 40th anniversary of its publication, Death and Life has been reborn as a primer on workplace design. (HCC Reader, p. 117)

(Read the whole article at http://www.gladwell.com/2000/2000_12_11_a_working.htm.)

 

Gladwell builds a series of analogies between specific office types and forms of city planning.

 

CORNER OFFICE = GATED COMMUNITY

“There was a time, for instance, when companies put their most valued employees in palatial offices, with potted plants in the corner, and secretaries out front, guarding access. These offices were suburban-gated communities, in fact -- and many companies came to realize that if their best employees were isolated in suburbs they would be deprived of public acquaintanceship, the foundations of public trust, and cross-connections with the necessary people.” (HCC Reader, p. 117).

 

CUBICLES = LEVITTOWN (TRACT HOUSING)

In the 80s and early 90s, the fashion in corporate America was to follow what designers called ‘universal planning’ -- rows of identical cubicles, which resembled nothing so much as a Levittown. (HCC Reader, p. 117).

 

OPEN-PLAN OFFICE = MIXED USE “JANE JACOBS” NEIGHBORHOOD

“Today, universal planning has fallen out of favor, for the same reason that postwar suburbs like Levittown did: to thrive, an office space must have a diversity of uses -- it must have the workplace equivalent of houses and apartments and shops and industry.” (p. 117)

 

Slide lecture: trendy open-plan offices for creative types, plus the real world offices of Humanities Core, Al Gore, and Professor Lupton.

 

3. Thinking with Jane Jacobs, Part Two: Porch Envy

The following short essay looks at the rise, fall, and return of the porch in American architecture. This piece is forthcoming in Design Your Life: The Pleasures and Perils of Everyday Things by Ellen and Julia Lupton (St. Martin’s Press 2009). The accompanying slide lecture includes a brief history of the great American porch, which has its roots in Greek, Roman and Italian as well as African and Indian architecture. If I don’t get to porches in the lecture, I hope you’ll enjoy this piece anyway as a model of a certain kind of research and commentary on built environments.!!  -- Julia Lupton

 

I live on a cul de sac in Southern California. Built in 1989, the facades on our street are swallowed up by the great beige blankness of garage doors. When my children were very young, the neighbors and I would sit at the shadeless edges of our driveways wearily watching our toddlers play in the asphalt circle. A porch retreat would have been welcome (a babysitter even more so).

On the adjacent street, built just a few years later, the porch is back, part of the New Urbanism, a movement to create a more social architecture for suburban neighborhoods. Garages have scooted discretely to the sides of the houses, and modest verandas now frame the front doors. Yet some of these porches are so small they are really just covered entryways. Some have been left completely bare, not even pretending to fulfill a greater social function. Others had dreamed once of becoming container gardens, but have degraded instead into gardening sheds, complete with fertilizer bags, old trowels, and great hose tangles. Many serve as storage units for bikes, strollers, and scooters – second garages for secondary vehicles.

Unlike the voluptuous verandas of older houses, most new porches are too skinny to seat a real gathering, let alone a broken washing machine. As for leisure, people may mingle more freely at the local café, or in common areas like the park or the pool, than in front of their houses. And if television first drew people off the veranda and into the living room, the Internet has social charms that no sidewalk can provide. Face Book is the new front porch.

Along with balconies the size of window boxes and driveways paved like patios, these narrow newcomers may prove to be more a symptom of gas-and-electric life than a solution to it. Even backyards have once again become refugee camps for abandoned toys and old tools. In New Orleans, where porch culture survived until Katrina, residents report that their new abodes -- trailers fitted with factory air – require no porches. Everyone stays inside.

Still, some people actually do use their porches. One Santa Monica friend [writing director Liz Losh] reports using her porch as a smoking gallery and overflow space during those hip urban parties I can only dream of hosting. Another friend, who lives in a New Urban development outside Indianapolis, is never bored on her porch. Since her house has wireless, she brings the Internet outside with her.

I asked a friend from the next street, a sexy scientist from Argentina, how she uses her new porch. “I don’t actually sit out there,” she said, “but it’s great for package delivery. You know--” (her voice dropped into a confidential quiver) “from Victoria’s Secret and Frederick of Hollywood.” I am glad that the neo-porch is enhancing the sex life of working mothers, but it hasn’t revived the social world framed by its historic ancestors. Maybe I shouldn’t feel so bad about not having a porch. Perhaps all I need is a new blog, a raspberry frappucino, or a Really Special Delivery.