Saturday, September 22, 2012

Human Scale

“The only way to make money in the perfectionist craftsperson industry, it seems, is to stop being a perfectionist craftsperson.” -ADAM DAVIDSONin the New York Times article, “What's a $4000 suit worth?”

The New York times printed an article earlier this month about bespoke suit-making. The article praised the skill of the featured bespoke tailor, but questioned the economics of the business. This tailor has all the business he can handle, but his salary is limited to how quickly he can make each suit. He has no employees and each suit takes about 2 weeks to make. Because there are few ways to speed up his process—-making a suit is skill dependent and each takes about the same amount of time—-his income will remain well below the income that a person buying one of his $4000 suits would probably make. Because he works in the way an artisan would have worked a hundred years ago, he is not making money in the way that much of the clothing industry does today.

These critiques are valid if making money is the main concern, but there are many benefits to the artisan, the customer and society at large that are important but can't be as easily measured as is profit. These are issues that I think about often as I build my business. Although I don't make bespoke suits, the work that I do also “has no economy of scale”--it is human-scale!


First and foremost, the artisan who spends his or her time perfecting skills and making beautiful, functional items out of the resources from this planet, finds fulfillment in the work, in the creating and problem solving she uses her energy and mind for every day. It's also worth mentioning the obvious—-that someone who feels fulfilled functions as a happy person in the world. I know that through my work I have found a happiness that has allowed me to give more to others, and in turn, others have reciprocated in a way that I didn't notice before.

Secondly, the consumer of the product buys something that has been well-made, well designed, that fits well, and that may last longer or bring more joy than another less carefully-made item. The buyer also has a way to get in touch with the maker—to have adjustments/corrections made, or to add to his/her collection.

Also, by making clothing or other artisanal products on a human scale, there is less waste involved in the process. One person can only make a finite amount of products with her time, which limits the amount of products that are made. Bespoke suits are made to order, which reduces waste even further, because a suit is not being made to hang on a rack, but made with the wearer in mind.

Another benefit to society is the continuation of human skills. In clothing, the art of creating a garment that fits around a specific body is an age-old study, one that continues to develop through apprenticeship and experimentation.

Because of the immense value of all of the above, the issue of making more money is minimized in my mind. Yes, I think that quality of life is very important and that if certain tools will speed up the process and allow for more free time while still maintaining the benefits described above, that's value added. But to sacrifice so many of the above benefits just to increase profits seems to me a waste of humanity—a waste of skill, a waste of materials, a waste of time.

I would like to fade out with a song, and there are so many to choose from. Jack Rhodes' “A Satisfied Mind” was sung by many people and here's Porter Wagoner's take:

Saturday, September 8, 2012

website down

Unfortunately, five8ths.com is down for a few days while the domain transfer takes effect. In the meantime, feel free to sign up for seasonal updates and specials by entering your email address in the box below. Thanks for your interest!


Saturday, September 1, 2012

Kading family pride


My grandfather died last week, and I traveled to his Iowa farm, where I got to know him and the family a little bit better.

Although I have been there many times and had my share of experiences as the grandchild-farmhand for the day, this trip had more gravity as I traced the family history and connected it to myself. This time as we revisited the buildings on the farm, my Dad told stories about the tools, machines, and the buildings that housed them, all designed and built by my Grandpa. One thing that my Dad emphasized was that he often didn't even draft a plan for the machines (many of them tractors that performed specific, unique functions for the farm) or tools, but had the entire plan in his head. That little piece about the way he worked really stood out to me, because I also work this way, so it seemed like a small part of him that I was lucky enough to inherit. Like him, I have a strong visual image of my designs that I keep in my mind, but (perhaps unlike him) my drawing skills are so poor that my sketches usually fail to capture the image I have in mind, so I often skip the drawing and go straight to drafting and draping the pattern. I sculpt the image that is in my mind, rather than drawing it first.

His workshop was especially attractive to me. Each tool in it's place, ready to be used. The time spent with tools, to me, is the best part of creating. This is the time for learning, inventing, perfecting, problem-solving, and finding the most elegant way of fitting pieces together. The product is nice too, but the process of creating is what's important to me.

I would be flattering myself to suggest that my skills live up to the skills of my Grandpa, but as I continue to develop as a designer and maker, the way I go about my work will remind me of my Grandpa and my connection to my family. One thing that I'm certain I inherited is the open-hearted love passed between family members, and for that I have so much gratitude.

Tools and workshop


Farm




And one more thing to admire---for work and for dress, he always had great personal style.