The leopard, the giraffe and the macaw follow no fashion - they are born elegant and appropriately insulated. They cannot, season by season, startle with new patterns of fur or feathers. People can.

We may, snake-like, shed worn-out clothes; we may become bored, disgusted or embarrassed by the way we look. Or, better, we may decide to be inventive, emulative and playful. But whether new clothes are a response to frayed cloth or booty from a shopping spree, once they are on your back they are not neutral decoration any more than the spots on a pelt which mimic dappled shade are neutral, or the bright, incommoding tails evolved by birds to attract mates. They signal moods, intentions and desires; they identify and camouflage. Fading into the crowd or standing out from it, saying 'this is who I am,' 'come on' or 'back off': these things are managed or implied by fashion choices. Not to choose and not to care is to conform by default - which is the most insidious choice of all, and self-defeating.

LRB 14 November 2002 | PDF Download