CULTURE + SATIRE
The Fashion Of Silicon Valley
Romancing the lifestyle of the rich and detached
My ass twitches each time someone tells me, “I admire the simple attire of billionaires like Mark Zuckerberg, Jack Dorsey and Steve Jobs.” These folks are hinting at how t-shirts and turtlenecks are a symbol of humility, minimalism and intellectualism.
I then clear my throat from across the table, sip Lipton Earl Grey like Kermit the Frog (infamous meme) facing an open window, and spray through my teeth the following shade:
“Not to burst your bubble but Zuckerberg wears Brunello Cucinelli t-shirts “The King of Cashmere”, Dorsey wears Dior and Rick Owens, the late Jobs wore Issey Miyake. We can’t afford them because we’re povo.” *Povo is the social media term du jour for the poor rooted from the word “poverty” made famous by British Instagram influencer Shabazsays.
And since we’re on the subject, I might as well educate the rest of us sour-grapes-that-didn’t-make-the-cut-into-a-wine-bottle hoi polloi, they’re all custom-made.
So no, these billionaires do not shop like the rest of us mortals like at H&M, Zara or Target. Heaven forbid Walmart. They’re billionaires and therefore, they prefer their clothes off the billionaires’ rack. Where? Places we can’t afford because we’re povo.
But of course, that’s not how they ploy with the media in order to manipulate us for support. The appearance of being “one of us” helps to create an invisible bridge with their consumers. A very calculated move. The customers buy this hook, line and sinker. A travesty really, due to an innate longing inside us to be “one of them” because they symbolize societal merit of success and the notion: all things’ possible.
Zuckerberg’s casual look begins at $300 for his tee alone. Jobs’ black turtleneck costs $175. Posthumous, they now cost $275. The vultures. Dorsey loves Prada, Hermès and Rick Owens hence his Black Amex card says he can spend as much as he likes.
Because these heads of corporations are society’s perceived “leaders”, a lot is at stake. Every detail about them plays a part in the machinery of their digital emperor persona.
Like many public figures who are constantly under the spotlight, often, it is the story behind their outfits that make them bigger than they are. Even the notorious Elizabeth Holmes is known for her turtlenecks which helps to emphasize her deer-in-the-headlights expression. She’s supposed to head to prison (operative word “supposed”) unless her $135 million mansion is prison (hard to tell with billionaires and their sentencing). We’ve slowly forgotten about Theranos, about how it works, but heck we remember that look.
Jobs’ famous “genius uniform” was created by accident. In fact, it originated from failure. How ironic.
In 1981, Sony commissioned Japanese designer Miyake to design a jacket to add to the company uniform. Described as “a futuristic taupe rip-stop nylon jacket featuring unzip-able sleeves that allowed it to convert into a vest and had no lapels” it was part of sprucing up Sony’s 35th anniversary. Jobs liked the idea he wanted to pitch it to Apple for its employees. He befriended Miyake and asked for a similar design. Miyake did and Jobs presented it to the Apple team. They hated it.
With his tail between his legs, Jobs didn’t want to admit defeat. He decided perhaps it would be best for a uniform look just on himself. Miyake took to the task and produced a design that would fit Jobs’ signature habit of donning New Balance 991 sneakers and Levi’s 501 jeans.
Not sure if it was a sarcastic joke thinking Jobs lacked a sense of style, or if the designer had misread the memo, Miyake produced about a hundred turtlenecks. Jobs was not only delighted. He claimed it would last him a lifetime, saving him the time to think about what to wear. Remember povo people, time is money. As for the fashion, well how my eyes have suffered.
Meanwhile, in the world of fashion, an empire of fabric, artisanal creativity and gold imagination weeps at the sheer laziness of a man proclaimed as a Silicon Valley genius. Why oh why can’t they all look like manicured and tailored Italian men strutting down the streets of Milan? Or the flock of men parading their fashionable goods each year at the Pitti Immagine Uomo (a fashion trade fair for men’s clothing) in Florence?
I shall save that lamentation for a Lady Marmalade piece.
If you Google Jack Dorsey, it’s written his “three guiding principles, which he says the company shares, are simplicity, constraint, and craftsmanship.” He could be describing his fashion direction. Again, my ass twitches.
In interviews Dorsey has openly admitted that he would have gone into fashion if it weren’t for the Silicon Valley allure. The fact he opted to be CEO of Twitter did not dissipate his interest in spending rubbish amounts of money being vogue. Instead, Dorsey stays close by being a frequent attendee at various Fashion Week events rubbing shoulders with the likes of Anna Wintour (fashion doyenne and Editor-in-Chief of US Vogue).
At Paris Fashion Week Dorsey’s adorned by avant garde luxury designer Rick Owens. The damage? It starts with a pair of $1,000 sneakers and leather jackets that can cost over $2,000. And that’s just a prelude for breakfast.
Perhaps we need to remind ourselves, as much as they “appear” to be like regular Joes, they’re Silicon Valley luminaries. Luminaries like King Charles III and side chick-turned-queen Camilla at the recent Coronation waving from a golden carriage, not a pumpkin with wheels pulled by rats in plain clothes, last witnessed in 1953. Bibbidi-bobbidi-boo.
Meanwhile, here we are, scrambling over lettuce and cucumbers at the supermarkets, rummaging through the evening bargain section buying meat and fruits at discount. Every penny and thread counts. A bag of crisps at 80% discount is a gold find indeed.
But then again, what do we know? We’re all povo.
If you enjoyed this turtleneck, this will lick your lollipop
