Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Guidette In the Village

      When I was assigned a “dress up field experiment,” I became excited with the innumerable possibilities I had to refashion myself for the sake of research.  Although I would consider my personal style “casual chic,” I believed that with my confidence and vigor I would be able to face this challenge without hesitation.  I decided to explore “the Guido”: a recent youth subculture made popular by Italian-Americans and media programs such as MTV’s Jersey Shore.  My East Village neighborhood is known for its hipster population. My apartment is situated between two consignment shops and an eco-friendly bakery; exhibiting the influence the main subculture has over the community merchants. With the area swarming with hipsters, punks and Goths, would a Guido attract attention through the masses?  I was curious to how the public would respond to such a rare sighting in an area defined by St. Marks Street culture. 
            Through personal experience, media portrayals and stereotypes, I had a strong idea of how I would dress the part.  In Paul Hodkinson’s published work Goth: Identity, Style and Subculture, he explains the four criteria needed for a subculture to be considered such.  “The first indicator of subcultural substance comprises the existence of a set of shared tastes and values which is distinctive from those of other groups and reasonably consistent, from one participant to the next, one place to the next and one year to the next,” (Hodkinson 30).  This means that specific traits or characteristics must be particular of the Guido culture, enabling them to be identifiable by these features.  Bronze, tanned skin is a defining trait, along with diligently styled hair and sculpted bodies, (Viscusi).  None of these characteristics are necessary, but can be fundamental when defining the Guido scene.  It is this relative consistency that Hodkinson explains, allows some variation between members but not explicit diversity.  While many may believe that you must be Italian-American or must wear Ed Hardy to be Guido, we have seen examples of such individuals who do not follow such norms but are still considered Guido by staying within other subcultural guidelines. 
            I began piecing my outfit together with garments I already owned.  I started with an American Apparel pleather strapless dress that I normally use for layering.  I wore the garment solo to mirror an outfit Nicole “Snooki” Polizzi would wear to a club in Seaside Heights.  To dress weather appropriate, I wore a Juicy Couture zipper cardigan complete with the “Juicy Forever” insignia on the back. In my defense, the Juicy Jumpsuit was very popular when I was in high school on Long Island, so it is not that surprising that I should own such a cardigan.  I figured I would wear flashy stilettos while dressed up, but I felt my attire was too “clubby.”  This is when I spotted my black, calf-high Uggs in the corner of my apartment and realized they would be the perfect footwear for this outfit.  I wanted to show that I was glamorous, yet I wasn’t trying too hard.
I polished the look with gaudy necklaces, bangles, and hopelessly looked for a pair of hoop earrings.  To my dismay I was in no such luck, but I found a black, bedazzled cocktail ring to wear instead.  I moved into my bathroom to apply the makeup and took one final look at my white sink counter-top before I put my Guido face on.  I began with my normal powder concealer around my eyes to emphasize the unnatural tone of the bronzer that I applied next.  A Bare Minerals singular toned, powder bronzer named “warmth” was what I chose to cover my face. It was like I had taken rust and rubbed it all over my face, but in a bit more elegant manor. I took a black eye pencil to my lids and colored them to create the illusion that I was wearing heavy eye makeup. I applied some lighter eye shadow near to brow bone and corners of my eyes to achieve the same effect.  I finished my face with a considerate amount of mascara and nude lip-gloss. My originally white counter now looked like I had thrown dirt all over it.
I saved the hair poof for last, knowing it would be challenging for my brittle, blonde locks.  I took a segment from the front of my hair and tried twisting it back towards my head, while teasing it with a fine-toothed comb.  Surprisingly with a little hairspray and four bobby-pins, I was able to get my poof to stay in place.  After forty-five minutes of primping, my look was complete, but I couldn’t help but laugh by the reflection in the mirror.  Originally I was confident I would be able to pull this off, but I felt embarrassed and nervous about how people were going to react to me.  I called up one of my friends and made her join me in this adventure.


After dressing her up in one of my best baby-pink jumpsuits and applying her Guido face, we were ready to hit the streets.  It turns out that bringing my friend along probably made my actions more convincing.  “Subcultures are liable to account for a considerable amount of free time, friendship patterns, shopping routes, collections of commodities, going-out habits and even internet use,” (Hodkinson 31).   This commitment Hodkinson is explaining is another criteria of a subculture.  If I were really a young “Guidette,” the lifestyle would be a defining role in my life.  It would be whom I hung out with, what I wore, where I shopped and how I acted.   Commitment is necessary to prove how intent a person is on becoming a member of the subculture. If someone has “fleeting, partial forms of affiliation,” (31) as Hodkinson mentions, it is not clear to the group whether the person will be a member for more than a week or a year.  Most subcultures have been around for several years, even decades, so it is these lifelong members that are needed to keep the subculture alive.  With noncommittal members, the group identity fades. 


The first disapproving glances we received were from the other tenants in my building. As we walked down 11th Street, I felt eyes glaring at me from every angle.  I tried to continue talking to my friend about her spring break, but the strangers’ gazes were debilitating. We turned on Third Avenue to get Starbucks, and passed several restaurants with outdoor seating.  One table of five paused their lunch to point and snicker at the two of us walking by.  We pretended like we didn’t notice, but it was hard not to hear their laughter.
While in Starbucks, my barista asked if I was from Staten Island.  I told him no, and began telling him where I was from.  He actually stopped me mid-sentence, turned his head away while giggling and said “Wait, wait. I can’t take you seriously right now. Take your sunglasses off and then we’ll talk!” Shocked by his comment, I did not quite know how to respond.  My friend and I grabbed our coffee and shuffled out of there.
We continued our adventure down St. Marks Street so we could encounter the other popular subcultures of the area.  As each punk or Goth individual’s gaze fell upon me, I became more accustomed with the attention.  At this point it had seemed that almost every single person we had passed had made some sort of comment, so we were becoming habituated with the ridicule.  People would make a point to turn around and stare at us, but we just kept walking along.  On St. Marks we found a “jewelry” store called Hotties.  Still on my quest to find perfect hoop earrings, we entered the shop to explore.  The only people inside were the Asian storeowners, so we were able to discuss how we felt about what was occurring outside.  While browsing through the Lucite jewelry, she told me she had never felt so self-conscious.  She was laughing, “I hope I’m not that judgmental!”  As I got ready to pay for white Lucite hoop earrings (finally!), the woman at the cash register began speaking with us.  “You ladies look so glamorous! Us Asians can’t get that tan!”  Whether this was her sales tactic or she was just a friendly person, this gave us the boost we needed to keep on with our day. 
Our last stop was Strand Bookstore, a haven for hipsters and NYU students alike.  Our plan was to just go into the store and see if anybody would react to us.  With our earlier incidents we figured something was bound to happen.  As we walked in, the first floor was flooded with people.  We stood out like sore thumbs, so it was easy for us to make a clear pathway to the back of the store.  At my destination, the classical book section, I found a sales man and asked where the Nietzsche was.  He burst out with uncontrollable laughter and walked away.  The two of us then began laughing at his unexpected response.  We left the store feeling silly, confused, and ready to go home. 


What was it about the Guido image that got everyone so riled up?  Besides the outrageous hair and unnatural skin tone, I believe that it was the context of my Guido that had everyone shocked.  In Alison Lurie’s work The Language of Clothes, she explains Irving Goffman’s concept of proper dress.  “To wear the costume considered ‘proper’ for a situation acts as a sign of involvement in it, and the person whose clothes do not conform to theses standards is likely to be more or less subtly excluded from participation,” (Lurie 13).  While my friend and I were trying to participate in one subculture, we were ostracizing ourselves from the other subculture around us.   As Hodkinson had mentioned, commitment is key when claiming participation in a subculture.  The people giving us nasty looks on the street were not only judging us by our physical appearance, but by our ability to function in their East Village culture.  Guido’s are not common around here, so our appearance was strange and foreign to the people around us.
As Lurie explains in the beginning of her book, “to choose clothes… is to define and describe ourselves,” (Lurie 5).  I may have just been wearing a dress, cardigan and boots, but to the onlooker I was defining myself as a Guido.  With the so-called “popularity” of the television show Jersey Shore, I was anticipating a more accepting response from the public than I received.  This season has had up to 8.9 million viewers each episode! (Gorman). These statistics coupled with the laughter and heckling I received on the streets, I conclude that this subculture is popular in the media for a different reason.  Are the Guidos our modern day minstrels? 

           




Gorman, Bill. "‘Jersey Shore’ Cannot Be Stopped, Sets Series High 8.9 Million Viewers." TV Ratings, TV Nielsen Ratings, Television Show Ratings | TVbytheNumbers.com. 21 Jan. 2011. Web. 20 Mar. 2011. <http://tvbythenumbers.zap2it.com/2011/01/21/jersey-shore-sets-another-record-with-8-9-million-viewers/79756>.


Hodkinson, Paul. Goth: Identity, Style, and Subculture. Oxford: Berg, 2002. 28-33. Print.

Lurie, Alison. The Language of Clothes. New York: Henry Holt, 2000. 4-36. Print.

Viscusi, Robert. "The Situation - Society and the Guido: An Italian-American Youth Style." I-ITALY. IADP, 25 Jan. 2010. Web. 18 Mar. 2011. <http://www.i-italy.org/12693/situation>.


             

Sunday, February 27, 2011

Fashion in the Virtual World

Introduction
Second Life is a virtual world that allows users to explore, meet other users, socialize, participate in activities, shop, and make real world money.  It was created in 2003 by Linden Labs, and by 2011 it has over twenty million registered users worldwide. 
Last semester I had done some work inside Second Life, so I am very familiar with the layout of the virtual land.  When we were asked to do this mediated study, I immediately thought to explore Second Life because the role fashion and style played with avatars.  A Second Life user has the ability to change the avatars shoes, bottoms, top, hair, and can place individual accessories on the virtual body ranging from bracelets to prosthetic body parts.  The user can also give the avatar tattoos, layer the clothing, and even change the pattern of the avatar’s pubic hair.  The possibilities are endless.
When a user first registers for Second Life, they are given five outfits to choose from for their avatar. They are the stereotypical “goth outfit,” “party outfit,” “rocker outfit,” “student outfit,” and “city outfit.” They are very generic, making it simple to spot a “newbie” in this virtual world. This being said, I was positive that conspicuous consumption was still relevant in the virtual world, even if the garments could not be physically possessed. I wanted to discover the similarities between virtual and real life fashion.  Specifically, are the private and the public still separate platforms in the virtual world?

Field Experiment
            For the actual study, I wanted to test two things.  Is conspicuous consumption still relevant in regards to virtual belongings? Secondly, whether the public and private are still separate in Second Life.  To do the first study I roamed around Second Life in my normal “expensive” outfit that I had previously purchased while playing. In addition I wanted to socialize with the friends that I already made and also make some new ones.  I would wear one of the generic outfits, and see how the same users would react.  I would do this in the same Second Life session.
            To research the private and the public divide, I wanted to specifically experiment with nudity and indecent exposure.  How would other avatars react to me?  Was this commonplace in certain arenas of Second Life?  I wanted to see if I could socialize in outfits (or lack there of) that we would deem completely inappropriate in the Real World.   


In The Field
            To test my conspicuous consumption theory, my “expensive” outfit consisted of Second Life designer ripped jeans, a studded low-cut top, fake breasts, a tattoo, a gold charm necklace, a life-like blonde ponytail, and heavy makeup.  This ensemble in the real world would scream “cheap!” but it actually cost over three hundred Linden dollars in Second Life.  Please notice, I also have the luxury of being called a “hipster” in the bubble above my avatars head.  I guess after spending some money I get to flaunt the title!

             I determined the best place to test my theory would be an InfoHub, which is where they send new avatars once they have just registered for Second Life. One of the first users to approach me was Gaber Crystal.  We instant messaged for a few minutes, and without me even asking he said, “you look like a real woman!”  I of course asked him how this was so, and he replied “the way you look and dress, it’s like real life. You must be a player for a long time.”  This idea that my clothing or possessions determines my stature in the virtual world is exactly the ideas that Thorstein Veblen stated in his book The Theory of the Leisure Class.  “Since the consumption of these more excellent goods is an evidence of wealth, it becomes honorific; and conversely, the failure to consume in due quantity and quality becomes a mark of inferiority and demerit,” (Veblen 56).  Another user I met at the InfoHub was Bridgettt Resident.  She has only been using Second Life for about three weeks, so she approached me asking where she could get clothes like mine.  “Getting dressed is so confusing here! And I just want to look good! Take me shopping,” she pleaded.  I did not end up taking her around the Second Life shops, but the way she spoke to me showed she was almost desperate to look like she "fit in."  (When I met her she was wearing a plain white dress, no shoes, and was bald).  She was not consuming these virtual goods or garments for herself, but rather for the other - the audience. 
This can be tied to Erving Goffman’s idea of the front and back stages.  We dress these avatars to represent one mask of ourselves, emphasizing that the first impression is everything.  We want other users to get the right impression of us during our “role playing,” by tailoring our clothing to fit this ideal impression we are aiming for. “When the interaction that is initiated by ‘first impressions’ is itself merely the initial interaction in an extended series of interactions involving the same participants, we speak of ‘getting off on the right foot,’” (Goffman 11).  The importance of first impressions is that it dictates the future relationship one is going to have with another person.  In Second Life, Brigettt did not want to begin her new relationships being treated as a “newbie.” 


My theory was later confirmed once I dressed my avatar in the “city outfit.” 
As I roamed around Second Life it become evident that I had to be the one to initiate conversation while my avatar had this appearance.  One user I met, JunRyoo Resident, asked me why I looked so frumpy when I could be beautiful.  Another user, TaichiHashimoto Resident, actually teleported me to a mall because my clothes were so horrific by his standards.  The friend I had made earlier during the session, Gaber, bought me a dress once I was wearing this outfit.  This goes to show that the first impression does dictate the future of a relationship.  Because I was dressed this way, these users felt they could talk to me in a manner that was inferior, almost like I was their doll to be dressed.  While I was in the “expensive” clothes, I had users praising me for my looks.  Even in the virtual world we as humans seem to focus on the visual presentation of ourselves.

Nudity
            As another study, I wanted to experiment with taboo; being a naked avatar in the virtual world. It is common knowledge that there is plenty of sex and love in Second Life, so I wanted to find out if our public and private selves still exist.  Are private lives public?  Specifically, is it socially acceptable to expose oneself to other avatars?
            To do this, my avatar only wore a pair of stilettos, panties and her hair up.  I also made sure she had excessive breast implants. 

            I didn’t know where to roam around so I began in New York.  Even though it was just my avatar, I became embarrassed myself.  This was a level of exposure I was not used to. I kept having to remind myself that although this is my avatar, no one could trace it back to the real me.  I decided to have her walk into a gym, where four users were working out for Linden Dollars.  As soon as I walked in, the responses were violent.  “Get some clothes on!” “There’s a time and place for that!” “Not here you sicko!”  I never responded; I just wanted to see what their reactions would be.  One of the users Dandelion Weam, actually got off of the treadmill to yell at me.  She told me I belonged in a BDSM club, or that I should go and be naked in the privacy of my own home. 
            I didn’t stay a nude avatar for long; I felt that everywhere I walked other users were staring at me.  “To be nude is to be seen naked by others and yet not be recognized by oneself,” (Berger 54).  Although I felt so self-conscious, it was the others that had such a violent reaction.  I believe it was their association with nudity and the sexual that angered so many of the Second Life residents.  It was not an appropriate place to be flaunting around naked. If I had listened to Dandelion and gone to a BDSM club, maybe my gestures would have been appreciated, even praised.
            This instance confirms that even in the virtual world, the public and the private setting are still separate entities.  There is a time and place to be nude, and it’s in the private, not in a public gym.  Returning to Goffman’s ideas, this is reinstating that there is an appropriate mask for each social situation (even in the virtual), and chaos can occur when the roles get confused.

Conclusion
            Although Second Life is a virtual setting, the idea of conspicuous consumption still applies.  Users will spend money on virtual outfits to affect and heighten their stature in the virtual world.  I did, however, find a difference while shopping.  In the real world, class can be judged by your style - how you put an outfit together.  In Second Life, it’s not about who’s the most stylish or trendy.  It has to do with whose avatar can have the coolest add-ons, or look the most human.  In many situations it’s about how closely you can make the virtual like reality.
            Also, private and public segments are still separate entities in Second Life.  Although you can find a place to do every inappropriate thing you can imagine, there is a time and setting for every action. 
            Ultimately, I think this shows as a culture how we judge others based on their appearance.  When did the functionality of clothing become about class rankings rather than basic bodily coverage?



Works Cited

Berger, John. Ways of Seeing. London: British Broadcasting, 1977. Print.

Goffman, Erving. The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life. New York: Anchor /Doubleday, 1959. Print.

Veblen, Thorstein. "Conspicuous Consumption." The Theory of the Leisure Class. New York: Random House, 2001. Print.