Beatism and the Ideals Behind the Brand

I am often surprised how many people ask me what the name of my brand means. I've been asked to describe what a beatnik is, what belated means, and how in the world I came up with the title. The first question I can answer easily, the word "belated" simply means something happening to late for it's time. Think of it in terms of a friend wishing you a "belated birthday" a few days after your birthdate. The phrase "belated beatnik" refers to a beatnik born to late to be a part of the beat movement. So what is a beatnik, what was the beat movement, and why is it important to the brands identity?

The Beatniks originated in the late 1940's/early 1950's as a literary movement known as the "Beats" or "The Beat Generation." These Beats were later deemed "Beatniks" (a combination of the words beat and sputnik.) by the press as a derogatory term to suggest they were unamerican and relate them to the communist movement. Though the Beats initially rejected the title, their followers and fans of literary and bohemian lifestyles adapted the term as their own.

The Beats were known for promoting a minimalistic lifestyle, prioritizing experience over ownership. They captured their audience's attention and imagination with poetry, novels and art bursting with raw emotion. They created not to impress with skill or imagery, but to convey feelings beyond words. Writers such as Jack Kerouac, Allen Ginsberg, Gregory Corso and Diane di Prima redefined American literature with their poetic and often controversial works.

Although they faced frequent backlash and criticism from the general public, the movement spread across the United States as Beats continued to meet in late night coffee shops to share art and poetry. By the 1960's the movement began to shift from it's literary focus to a more overtly political and youth centered standing. Soon giving way to the youth quake and hippie movements of the later 1960's.

As a brand, I've chosen to embrace the simplicity of creating for the sake of release. I want to use my platform not to gain wealth, but to share the feelings I have through my creative process. Much like the Beats, I want to prioritize experience and quality over the quantity of goods. Though it may not seem like I'm promoting minimalism through the brightly colored garments that flash across my website, I strive to promote sustainability and in doing so I encourage a minimal amount of waste, a minimum of unnecessary and thoughtless shopping, and a minimum of fabric used. I don't hold the power to change the way the world thinks, but I do have an outreach that I wish to use to speak out for the change I want to see in the world.

The Beat movement is dear to me as the beginning of change, the underground that sparked the energy carried through the 1960's. I want to honor the lasting impact of the writers and artist of the time, by continuing to create for connection. Thank you, for joining me on this journey.

-Coco Elouise Marie

The Slow Dissolve of Ownership and It's Effects on Fashion

We see it everywhere; streaming services instead of physical media, cars and phones we’ll trade in long before we ever pay them off, and renting homes and condos we could never hope to afford. We’re even encouraged to “buy now, pay later” when transacting the most basic of online purchases. This perpetual debt is so ingrained into our daily lives we hardly notice it as we go on paying for all sorts of things with no guarantee they’ll belong to us tomorrow.

Wait, this sounds like the start of an financial article how does this tie into our wardrobes? Renting an occasional tux or gown for a formal event is hardly the same thing as subscribing to our clothes. Even considering the recent rise of beauty subscriptions, we own the goods we receive. They’re not going to show up and take away the products that have already been paid for the way streaming services can delete movies and other media with little to no notice, so how does this affect fashion?

Before I get into that, take pause, and ask yourself a few questions.

• “How long do my clothes last?”

• “Do I get rid of clothes because my old ones are worn out or because I have too much and I need to make room for new ones?”

• “Do I purchase more than 20 pieces of clothing a year?”

Maybe you don’t follow micro trends and you don’t seek validation through Shien halls on TikTok but how many times have you “reinvented” yourself since 2020? How many times has your style changed? Maybe you consider your wardrobe turnover sustainable, you shop at thrift stores, you donate to thrift stores. A friendly little cycle of buy, sell and trade. Unfortunately, it’s more likely “buy, sell and trash.”

Anytime you view your clothes as single use or seasonal items you’re doing more harm than good. Thrift stores already receive more than they can process and huge amounts of clothes still end up in landfills. What’s the connection from sustainability to our discussion on ownership, you may ask? As so often the case it circles back to fast fashion. Much like subscribing to a streaming service, we’re sucked into buying fast fashion by the allure of targeted marketing, low prices, and trending outfits. Only for our purchases to ever so quickly be deemed last season and replaced by the latest advertisement. Now you’re faced with a choice; do you buy the latest product or continue to use what you’ve already purchased, despite its early signs of wear?

Remember those three questions from earlier? Fast fashion isn’t designed to last, if you purchase clothes created for the purpose of quantity over quality, odds are your garments show wear quickly. Let’s assume you’re not buying clothes just because you can, and the garments you have are beginning to look worn. If you’re replenishing your wardrobe with more fast fashion of the same short life cycle, you’re only going to need to repeat the whole process in another month or so. Companies like Shein, Temu and even Zara, know this. They’ve designed their products and their advertising platforms to make it easy for you to follow trends, and to make it easy to get used to it. Trapping you in a whirlpool of consumerism where your clothes wear out as fast as they make new ones.

So what do you really own if the things you’ve bought have been designed to throw away? You wouldn’t brag about throwing out your fine China for paper plates, even though the paper plates do the same job for a fraction of the price. So why do we feel this way about clothes?

-Coco Elouise Marie

How Does That Make You Feel?

Fashion’s Impact on Our Emotional Wellbeing

Many of us are aware fashion isn’t just about appearances. Psychologists have published many studies over the last few years showing the profound effect clothing has on our mental health. What we wear affects how we perceive ourselves and others, while also affecting how we preform tasks. (Enclothed Cognition by Hajo Adam and Adam D. Galinsky, Journal of Experimental Social Psychology, vol. 48, Issue 4) We shape our personal style based on how it makes us feel. When we get dressed in the morning what we wear sets the tone for the day. Choosing to wear clothes that fit our personal style can boost confidence, empower us, and build self-worth.

This begs the question: if it’s so impactful, why isn’t everyone doing it? A large factor is developing personal style requires a period of trial and error and with such, the risk of rejection. Our confidence is frequently tied to our personal appearance and the fear of being viewed as socially out of step can keep many people from experimenting with their clothes or even wearing what they feel comfortable in.

It’s interesting to note, in 2020 while a large part of the world was staying home and cut off from social contact, those interested in fashion began using their newfound free time to discover their own styles and aesthetics. For the first time in most of our lives we had the opportunity to experiment with our wardrobes and experience our own taste and flare without the fear of outside judgement. If we liked what we put together we could upload a picture on our social medias and bask in the praise of our mutuals in the form of likes, shares and comments. If we decided we didn’t like the outfit we wore the solution was simple; don’t post it. We could chalk it up as a lesson learned and no one would ever have to know how ridiculous we may have looked while trying something new. We also had the advantage of accessibility. With the rise of brands like Shein and Temu, and the moral implications of creating a fast fashion supernova not yet fully realized, we had all the means for dressing however we wanted literally at our fingertips.

Now days we may not have the advantage of testing new outfits and aesthetics out of the public eye, however, resources are anything but scarce. Why then, have we stopped playing dress up? Lockdown was five years ago and rather than encouraging individual styles we’ve fallen prey to a whirlpool of micro trends drowning us in overconsumption.

That brings us to the topic of sustainability. The word has graced the headlines of newspapers, magazines and blogs all over the world in the last five years, but has anything really been done about it? The pertinence of the subject seems to have grown from our own crippling buyer’s guilt. No doubt sparked by the sheer amount of waste produced by the fast fashion industry. Buyer’s guilt alone seems to be our beacon of hope that the public’s minds are becoming more environmentally aware.

The industries have become aware too, however, and have proven themselves more interested in sales than in actual beneficial change. Thus sparking controversy and the birth of “green washing” as a means of falsifying their claims of ecological responsibility.

Now the consumer is left going through the five stages of fashion grief. First denial, that anything was truly wrong. Then anger over the fashion industry betraying the environment. We bargained with our own conscious when buying new clothes, (“The label says 100% polyester, but the sign says sustainably made…”) until finally, finding ourselves in the depressing reality that unless we change our shopping habits, the industry is not about to change its manufacturing practices.

So what’s next, acceptance? I think not. In our present economic and environmental climate we’re seeing all the signs that usually point to a recession.  Whether this truly means we’ll be growing our own gardens or opening our homes to boarders is yet to be seen. However, the aesthetic of the mindset is already here. We see it in the growing popularity of minimal living, longer hemlines, natural color pallets and thin, willowy body types being romanticized by the media.

As always, there is an optimistic way of viewing this, as people lean towards “recession era” mindsets the demand for long lasting products grow. If the common thought process is that we will have to grow our own food to eat, we’re not going to want to garden in jeans that give out in the knees after two washes. Already we’re seeing a collective interest in learning a craft or trade. This is reflected in the fashion world as a growing interest in Japanese brands (Cottle, Garcons, and Yohji Yamamoto come to mind.) that are recognized for putting a greater emphasis on the craft and longevity of their clothing than many western brands.

I’ve heard the phrase “late-stage capitalism” thrown around a lot lately, though it may or may not be true, I find it interesting when we feel our way of life as we know it is facing immanent change our instincts lead us back to the art of creating with intention. Whether the intention is to survive or simply to create something more meaningful differs on the individual. When we find ourselves romanticizing the holes in our jeans with hand sewn patches or buying a new shirt from a brand that hand dyes their collections one piece at a time, the message is clear; we want to feel something.

I hope you enjoyed the read! If you've made it this far consider leaving a review!

-Coco Elouise Marie