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Disposable Clothes

by Petria May

Okay. Here's a puzzler: what do diapers, pantyhose, and synthetic sweaters have in common? They are soon soiled, odiferous and to be wholly scientific, give you cooties. In a word, they are disposable.
Although we still pay in dollars, clothes can be made for pennies nowadays, thanks to a seemingly endless supply of cheap labor in fast-emerging economies like Turkey, India, and China. Did I say emerging? They are already eating our lunches in the apparel sector (How do you translate "There is no free lunch"?).
Myriad euphemisms are attached to disposable clothing: "high-low" fashion, thrift, or, if you will, Gap, K-Mart, Wal Mart, and to a more successful degree, Target.
Yes, of course, I sometimes wear budget pieces knowing full well that they may not last long enough to get me home without ripping, tearing, popping off a button or just looking ratty and...disposable. Often, they outlast my interest in them.
On one or two occasions, I have discarded disposable clothing in a restaurant bathroom. I just could not bear feeling the cheapness for another moment, so into the garbage the offending object disappeared, making me feel rather relieved. Who needs to touch up the lip gloss with disposable clothes to toss?
There is an entire category of clothes that are one (just one) step above disposable. They survive the potential humiliation of receiving my imaginary trash bin quality symbol due to redeeming qualities such as style, natural fiber, color, or a fun factor that outruns low quality. In other words, if it is really, really fun and brings a smile to your (and perhaps someone else's) face, then there's no reason to avoid taking a cute little Victorian copycat top out on the town, knowing that it won't last long-sounds like a cute and vapid date, doesn't it?
I have implied, thus far, that "disposable" automatically means cheap. Let me clarify: while disposable clothing is often low priced and of poor quality, some preciously-priced clothing defies such oversimplification. For example, I've seen thin, plastic (nylon, rayon, acrylic) sweaters costing hundreds of dollars and looking suspiciously like they came from a Halloween costume factory. They are crudely cut, have unintentionally frayed edges, grotesquely puckered and not-too-straight seams.
If anything is unforgivable, it is cheap clothing masquerading as the good stuff. I must admit, too, that I've seen some rather remarkable pieces at shops so downscale that they should be hidden behind a black curtain, like the backroom of a video store. What can I say? Sometimes, these shops (and we) get lucky.
A longtime friend wore a teddy bear fur shrug to a museum event not too long ago. I admired its rounded bolero cut and deep brown hue. "Chez Target," she cooed sotto voce. For a woman who adores Issey Miyake, that was high, high-skyscraper high-praise.

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