I Was A Happy Victim

Have you ever seen the "Happy Victims" photography project by Kyoichi Tsuzuki? (It's all archived here if you can't find a printed copy). I was looking through it again and it got me thinking about my own relationship with consumerism as well as consumerism in lolita fashion as a whole. I touched on this in my 2021 Anti-Haul post, but I wanted to discuss it a little bit more thoroughly. I'm coming up on the one-year anniversary of when I started my minimal buy pledge, so let's start with my own story...

A photo of an h. Naoto collector from Kyoichi Tsuzuki's "Happy Victims"

"No, these Happy Victims aren’t rich; they’re decidedly on the poor side. It would hardly surprise us if they had lots of money and bought lots of clothes, but that would hardly amount to an obsession. Or if they lived in big houses with plenty of storage space, we’d never know how much they collect. But because they live in such small places, we can see exactly what they wear, what they eat, what books they read and music they listen to. Everything is out in plain view."

I haven't worn lolita nearly as often as I used to during the pandemic. I couldn't wear it to work anymore and I wasn't going out with friends, going to events, or even just going out for a walk or to do some shopping...so I only wore it on my days off at home. I felt a bit silly putting on even a simple cutsew OP and headbow just to go to the grocery store for 15 minutes, you know? I didn't do too many virtual meetups either since I found them a bit tiring. I was also going through some huge life challenges throughout the pandemic, some of which I am still struggling with, and it really shifted my perspective on things.

Over two years of living like this gave me a chance to establish a little bit of emotional distance from my wardrobe - I get extremely attached to inanimate objects, and I have a lot of fond memories bound up in all of these clothes. I spent so much money and so much time being heavily involved in the hobby that it made it hard to objectively evaluate my own behaviour until I was basically forcibly separated from it. In many ways, I was also a happy victim, until I suddenly wasn't.

Taking a bit of a step back from my special interest let me recognize some of the unhealthy habits I'd developed over the years. Without even realizing it, I'd gone from being extremely frugal, agonizing over making even the smallest of purchases, to being a bit of a spendthrift. While I never had any debt and I built up good amount of savings, I wouldn't exactly describe my spending habits as responsible, either. Sure, I could afford it, but it still wasn't prudent to spend that money when it could have been better used elsewhere; there's a lot of regret there. But that's what being a young adult is like, right? Better to make those mistakes earlier in adulthood rather than later. ( ´ ▽ ` )b

A small part of my Malice Mizer collection. I put it all into storage a few months ago.

By that time I had already decided to leave pretty much all online lolita groups as well as my local comm, leaving me blissfully unaware of what was happening in terms of new releases. I'd check in periodically to see what was new, but I didn't feel compelled to buy pieces just because I liked them. I was much better able to determine my motivations for buying - was I sad, looking for something to temporarily fill the void? Bored and needing a hit of dopamine from the thrill of a good deal? Was I filling an actual gap in my wardrobe or was I just purchasing on impulse? I actually felt much more compelled to purge things from my closet than I did to add more things to fill it with.

At that moment it truly hit me that my lolita collection was mature, for lack of a better word. I had basically everything I needed, so why add to it? There were some rare pieces I still wanted, but we all have things we want and can't have. No sense in hyperfixating on the few coveted pieces missing from my collection, which would probably cost me $2000 each in today's secondhand market. And sure, I would like to add some new colourways to my wardrobe, but did my desire to wear emerald green and grey really outweigh the expense of buying a boatload of blouses and accessories to match the 2 green and grey dresses I had?

Later I revisited my wishlist album, which I hadn't updated in well over a year...only to find that I was no longer interested in 90% of the items. My tastes didn't change, as I still liked all of those pieces...I just realized that I could appreciate them without owning them myself, and getting more dresses (when I already had over 70) was ridiculous. I ended up removing almost everything from the album. I've purchased 3 dresses and a handful of (versatile) accessories in the past year, and in that same time span I've sold close to 50 items. Before I decided to go on a minimal-buy, that's what I would buy in a month! At this point in my life, my priorities have shifted. I'd rather have the money and the closet space rather than the stuff. I just don't need it all and those items would be better served elsewhere. I'd rather have someone else enjoy and appreciate them than see them gathering dust (metaphorically, of course) in my closet.

Jane Marple collectors from Kyoichi Tsuzuki's "Happy Victims"

I am just one person, but this whole experience really got me thinking about consumerism in lolita fashion as a whole. Lolitas in general have a really unhealthy relationship with consumerism, and this relationship has only gotten worse with time. The rise of fast fashion and what I like to call "haul culture" have only accelerated the decline.

I have noticed that a lot of directionless young people throw themselves into a subculture/hobby like lolita and use it as a stand-in for their identity (because they haven't fully developed one yet) and it can end up being harmful to their mental health. The tired old jokes about eating ramen or racking up credit card debt to afford brand are a lot less funny when I think about how I've run into a lot of lolitas who have full-blown shopping addictions. Lolita being a gathering ground for unhappy people is a topic for another day, though...

Lolita culture promotes conspicuous consumption as a form of identity. I'm not going to pretend that it doesn't, or that most people who currently wear lolita love lolita for the deeply feminist countercultural roots of the fashion or whatever people are saying these days. Younger lolitas were immersed in haul culture and fast fashion from a young age and don't recognize that lolita was never intended to be consumed like that. Social media encourages trends to move as quickly as possible and slow fashions like lolita are not immune. An example would be the absolutely breakneck pace of releases, or the explosion of tiny indie brands hopping onto trend bandwagons for maaaaybe a release or two before disappearing into the ether.

This seeds jealousy, too. In order to "compete" they often feel like they need to amass an enormous, comprehensive wardrobe as quickly as possible and that people who already have them are rich assholes, spoiled, bankrolled by someone else...and I'm sure some are, but most lolitas are ordinary people who simply built their wardrobes over time. And having a cohesive wardrobe that you enjoy is much more important than having a big one. I'm happier after downsizing!

I truly wonder what the future of lolita fashion looks like now...

Until next time...

[Current Music: The Foreign Resort - Outnumbered (Bootblacks Remix)]