There’s merit in investing in timeless pieces like quality jewelry and clothing that are built to last (even though purchasing a Cartier watch may not always be plausible). In the Elvis Presley wise men say only fools rush in but I can’t help falling in love with you shirt in contrast I will get this long run, it’s more advantageous both economically and for the environment to invest in fewer, more expensive pieces crafted to withstand time, rather than indulging in trend-forward pieces that may not hold up physically or aesthetically after a few wears. Buying quality jewelry is not just about achieving a good cost-per-wear ratio— investment pieces are about longevity too. A classic piece that feels perfectly aligned with your style tends to age with grace, making it feel even more valuable as time presses on. Maybe the watch or ring you buy now will become a family heirloom, or maybe it’s something you’ll want to wear for decades. A classic trench coat will always be a wardrobe staple in transitional weather. From quality jewelry to clothing, here are the investment pieces that will stand the test of time and may even be history in the making. Read that again, and the idea of a T-shirt being “worth” $5 might seem preposterous, if not criminal. How is it possible that all of those materials, logistics, and people amount to just dollars or cents? Many of those costs are fixed; the price of cotton isn’t negotiable, even at scale. The person who made the T-shirt, on the other hand, is a lot easier to exploit. It would be reckless to claim that every low-priced good was made by an underpaid laborer, but it’s also just simple math. “It really blows my mind,” Ryan Roche said on a recent call. “I can crunch the numbers, and even with the cheapest fabrics, I don’t understand how it’s possible. Someone is sewing that T-shirt, and they’re being paid pennies.” Fast fashion’s exploitation and hidden supply chains aren’t new revelations, but when we talk about the mistreated workers or the environmental impact of disposable clothes, we’re ignoring a third impact on the consumer. The “race to the bottom” has totally ruined our perception of value; we literally have no idea what our clothes (or food, or anything else) should cost, and low prices have become so normalized that we don’t even second-guess them. In fact, despite statistics that suggest millennial and Gen Z shoppers care deeply about sustainability, the fast fashion market is actually growing—and the clothes are getting cheaper. It doesn’t help that luxury is getting more expensive in tandem.
Elvis Presley wise men say only fools rush in but I can’t help falling in love with you shirt, hoodie, tank top, sweater and long sleeve t-shirt
The widening valley between the Elvis Presley wise men say only fools rush in but I can’t help falling in love with you shirt in contrast I will get this two is compounding our confusion: If a T-shirt shouldn’t be $5, then it probably shouldn’t be $500, either. But where’s the middle ground? What’s the “right” price for fashion? The straightforward answer is that it’s probably higher than you think. Understanding where the number on a price tag comes from requires tallying every step of production—fabric, labor, shipping, packaging—and adding a profit margin. Let’s assume a designer is using quality materials and paying its garment workers an above-average wage; the materials and labor will arguably be the highest costs. The industry standard for a profit margin is between a 2.2 and 2.5x markup, meaning a dress that cost a designer $100 to produce might be sold to a retailer for $220. That retailer has to mark it up by 2.2x again to make its own profit, bringing the final price up to $484. (You can see how the math for that $5 tee becomes nearly impossible.) The average shopper doesn’t know any of that; she might assume the price is an arbitrary number the brand came up with to maximize its profits. She doesn’t know where the profits are going, either; maybe they’re covering overhead costs, like office space, employees, legal fees, and taxes, or they’ll be reinvested in future collections. And why would she know? Fashion has not been transparent historically, particularly when it comes to money and profits. Rampant discounting has trained us to doubt the price of anything, whether it’s a $2,000 dress or a $200 blouse. We know that if we wait a few weeks or months, it’s going to be marked down. And if it’s so easy for designers to slash those prices, then surely the original number was too high to begin with, right? You’d be a fool not to hold out for the sale. As a result, some retailers are actually increasing their margins to make up for the inevitable 30% or 40% loss, sometimes pushing it as high as 4x—meaning a coat it paid $1,000 for (and may have cost closer to $500 to produce) will begin at $4,000 in the store. It’s a tangled web of problems, and it’s particularly damaging for small businesses like Stanley’s. Forget trying to create ethical, sustainable clothes; how do you convince people to pay more for them? Her prices hover in the $350 range, but her customers frequently ask why she can’t go lower. While she used to avoid sales entirely, she’s felt pressured to “give in” to discounts because it’s the only way we know how to shop.