The #Boho Hustle: Domesticating Digital Media, Liquidating the Closet, and Disrupting Luxury Fashion

Peacock chair, Etsy

If there's a single item that captures the aesthetic of the ever-expanding pool of vintage sellers on digital platforms such as Instagram and Etsy, it's the wicker peacock chair. Like succulent plants or pictures of young Stevie Nicks, these chairs capture a decidedly lo-fi 1970s bohemian (aka #boho) look. This digital #boho aesthetic taps into a nostalgia for the 1970s, mixed with a longing for a more domestic and less digital time. Both boho and its newer cousin “cottagecore” (focused on pastoral scenes of English gardens, scones, mushroom foraging, fairies, and gnomes) tap into fantasies of domesticity and simplicity, or “a desire to live in a world outside the one currently inhabited.” [2] [3] More often than not, #boho is communicated through an aesthetic version of motherhood that reads as back-to-the-land, domestic, and West Coast. Jenni Avins captured the boho trend in her description of the “Silver Lake Shaman,” the updated and understated hippie of East Los Angeles, a type who “yearns for an imaginary era that melds the flowing gauze dresses and high-waisted dungarees of the 1970s with the minimalism of the 1990s.” [1] Digging into the boho hashtag on Instagram brings up millions of images (18.5 million as of December 8, 2020) from around the world, united by peach-tinted filters and an assortment of any of the following items: wicker, babies, the desert, and macramé. The #boho look traffics in an idealized version of maternity, one that personifies attachment parenting (babies are always closely held or breastfeeding), is connected to nature (backdrops of hikes, sunsets, the ocean), and reads as racially white.

The boho aesthetic traffics in nature and maternity, but it is capitalist at its core. The successful vintage seller and now fashion designer Sarah Shabacon of Bohème Goods epitomizes and has helped popularize the boho aesthetic. Her two disciplined Instagram feeds (her personal one and her business feed) feature strategic images of her, braless, with her kids, and always in or surrounded by beige-toned and naturally dyed fabrics. The popular apparel company Dôen also peddles boho-styled models with babies and young children, always shot in lush outdoor settings, often by a clothesline. The boho aesthetic situates motherhood as something opposite technology, fashion, and capitalism. The irony, explored here, is that the vintage boho aesthetic not only aligns with capitalism, especially capitalism driven by digital technology, but is also influencing luxury fashion markets. In short, #boho does a lot of work for both the global luxury fashion market, and especially for the digital technology industry. Here, I consider how the boho aesthetic, through representations of motherhood, is used to domesticate, or soften, the proliferation of digital media and, further, how it upsets the hierarchy of luxury fashion markets. Additionally, I discuss how the two effects are related and how the proliferation of digital media upends luxury fashion markets.

As a seller of vintage clothing myself, through both Etsy and Instagram platforms, I can attest to the constant presence of wicker, cottage core, and #boho everything across my digital feeds. With these nostalgic aesthetic genres filtering through my algorithmically tuned digital media channels, I did a double-take when passing a black-and-white NYC bus-stop poster for the Celine 2020 resort collection. The image features a model sitting in a wicker peacock chair, wearing aviators, a ruffle-collar blouse, denim, and sneakers. The image looked like something straight from Etsy, not a luxury fashion house. Upon closer inspection, the entire Celine collection references a 1970s, boho aesthetic similar to the Instagram and Etsy accounts I scroll through daily. Gucci, under the direction of Alessandro Michele, has also seen its incorporation of vintage assist its explosion into new and younger markets. Michele’s re-branding has been so successful that, according to Rachel Tashjian, “when you say “Gucci,’ any vaguely clued-in person will conjure that vintage-store hunter, big-glasses, magpie look.” [4]

“Flipping [vintage] items is both fun and an economic lifeblood for the precarious, part-time, un- or underemployed, a group that disproportionately includes women, and especially mothers.”

Luxury fashion’s incorporation of the vintage boho aesthetic speaks to the power of social media to drive trends from the bottom up. Luxury fashion’s identity rests on it being the pinnacle of the fashion system, driving trends and dictating what and how to wear clothing, but digital media is upending such an order. [5] The people behind the #boho trend online are millions of social media users who, like me, have a side hustle selling vintage clothing and, like me, are outside of the fashion industry proper. As Eugene Rabkin noted, because of the mass distribution of lower-priced luxury goods, such as Gucci slides, the main marker of luxury nowadays is “scarcity.” [6] The dilution of the meaning of luxury has forced “the fashion cognoscenti…into nostalgia mode, turning the market for vintage fashion into a big business. This makes sense, because, besides custom-made clothes, where else do you go for fashion that won't make you look like everyone else?” [6]

By its nature, vintage has a leg up with the scarcity factor, and thus grants those who sell it attention and status in the social media and fashion worlds. Some of the most successful vintage sellers I encounter are moms who have followed fashion throughout their lives and thus have a deep understanding of trends. This living knowledge of fashion history gives sellers an advantage in the vintage market. For example, understanding that the current prairie dress trend comes, in part, from the 1980s Laura Ashley/Jessica McClintock craze, made feverishly popular by Princess Diana, helps a seller spot variations of the look on the racks. Flipping such items (finding them for cheap and selling them substantially marked up) is both fun and an economic lifeblood for the precarious, part-time, un- or underemployed, a group that disproportionately includes women, and especially mothers. Celine’s and Gucci’s interpretation of the 1970s boho aesthetic puts the trend-driving power of everyday social media users into relief while also complicating the boundaries and meaning of luxury fashion. In other words, as digital technology encourages the masses, including moms, to create and distribute their own editorial spin on fashion, luxury fashion struggles to remain at the top of the fashion hierarchy. And while Gucci has a massive apparatus to capture, steal, and profit from those lower in the fashion chain, a handmade quilted jumpsuit found in rural Kansas signals an exclusivity and scarcity more than can even a person who wears Gucci head to toe. 

In what follows, I map what I call the boho hustle, which refers to the deployment of a vintage and so-called natural aesthetic to sell goods and services through social media and ecommerce platforms. I pay attention to the ways it especially implicates representations of motherhood as well as mothers’ labor. I connect the #boho moment to the unrelenting spread of digital technology and social media and consider how luxury fashion houses recalibrate to follow trends set in motion by millions of social media users and the ever-expanding pool of clothing resellers.

Gilda dress, Dôen

#Boho and Domesticating Digital Media

As the rise of #boho and cottage core suggests, there is a cultural thirst for a lifestyle that skews natural, slow, and lo-fi, a world with “no labor beyond domestic.” [3] Part of the romanticization of domesticity stems from the fact that such a lifestyle is increasingly out of reach. As the cost of living, especially college education, soars, having children is only available to those with economic means. Attachment parenting, vacationing, or lazing about in understated but pricey locations signal status and wealth. The boho lifestyle, especially the maternal version, is out of reach for most women. Additionally, as the COVID crisis has laid bare, mothers especially are drowning in domestic labor as school and daycares remain closed. Picnicking in Yosemite park or eating apples from your own apple tree offer escapist content to moms stuck inside, swamped in dishes and online learning.

The boho aesthetic materializes a version of maternity that is out of reach, and romanticizes the past. The nostalgia of the #boho look parallels the complete economic dominance of the digital technology industry, as well as the unending, inescapable saturation of social media into more and more people's lives. The 1970s wicker chair, plant-heavy aesthetic softens, humanizes, and allows us to forget we are on screens and fed content by A.I. algorithms. The boho peddlers are domesticating digital media, making it inviting and intimate.

“How bad can these technology companies be if all we see are cute babies, lo-fi scenes of succulents, crystals, flower baths, and, well, moms?”

The boho aesthetic signals natural, maternal, and feminine, all things we position in opposition to technology and capitalism. It domesticates the increasing spread of digital technology. How bad can these technology companies be if all we see are cute babies, lo-fi scenes of succulents, crystals, flower baths, and, well, moms? The digital bohemians share carefully curated yet semi-intimate content, signaling that sharing is normal, perhaps even spiritual, and that it can even be lucrative. They beckon us to bake, plant, take selfies in the sun, have babies, or adopt dogs. They keep us scrolling, shopping, pinning, and looking. They capture our escapist fantasies and turn them into content. taking up symbols of maternity, nature, the desert, and so many plants. It too often signals whiteness, wealth, and heteronormativity. 

Boho style comes out of West Coast culture, especially events like Burning Man, wherein the tech elite engage in hippie cosplay out in the desert. The new age element animating boho culture adds a layer of rugged individualism dressed up as spirituality. For example, a repeated idea in the boho scene is that economic success can be “manifested” through setting intentions. When scratching the surface of this vague idea, one finds the old ‘pull yourself up by your bootstraps’ ideology. Thus, not only does boho soften the spread of digital technology, it also aids the spread of neoliberal economic policies that seek to dismantle all socially funded programs and supports. 

The Boho Hustle

Tracy Quillin for Aux Etoiles Vintage

In the Spring of 2018, my friend and I set up an online Etsy store [8] specializing in vintage clothing. We’ve always followed fashion and we kept seeing women on social media, from various walks of life, setting up ecommerce sites of their own, modeling their vintage finds, and earning extra income. This felt like a fun and accessible way to participate in the fashion world, a world we have followed since our youth. Plus, we could shop, hang out together, earn some money, and, as one vintage/thrift influencer says, “always play dress up” (@bjones). Essentially, we could go to the thrift stores and put looks together, build a ‘collection,’ and play around with styling. We thrilled at finding discarded items that we knew had a much higher value in vintage markets. As two midlife moms with careers, it seemed like nothing but fun. And it is, of course, but the workload is significant. My friend and I became a cross between “mom-preneurs” and “hustlepreneurs.” [9] [10]

Both the “mom-preneur” [9] and the “hustlepreneur” [10] phenomena refer to the ways people, and moms in particular, use digital media to commodify (sell, market, and brand) aspects of everyday life via digital platforms. Most of the work that uses or relies on digital platforms consists of side-gigs — work done in addition to other forms of paid work. [10] An elite few are able to make their side gig their main gig. As Tressie McMillian Cottom points out, most side gig workers do such work to earn extra money but also to find autonomy and buffer against poor working conditions and complete dependence on employers. Under neoliberal ideology and economic regimes, wages have remained stagnant, social supports undermined, and reliance on credit and debt has increased. People must find extra work and extra income wherever they can, liquidating their labor, property, or themselves. Closets, homes, rooms, rides: all provide potential objects and experiences that can be turned into money. 

The clothing resale market has exploded and continues to grow exponentially because of platforms such as The Real Real, Etsy, Ebay, Thred UP, Depop, Noihsaf, and Poshmark. These ecommerce platforms allow anyone to sell their own clothing, thrift for items to enter into the resale markets, and, of course, shop for new stuff. It is a natural extension of mothers’ domestic labor, which includes managing household wardrobes and closets. The labor of ‘cleaning out the closet’ now includes eyeing its contents for items to flip, items that may have economic value. The work of closet cleaning now includes cleaning, mending, and sorting as well as photographing, listing, setting up seller accounts on various platforms, and finally packing and shipping. All of these clothing resale platforms frame their mission in environmental terms, reducing the need for new clothing production, interrupting the cycle of consume-discard, and reducing overall textile waste. Recycling clothing is better than not, but the popularity of such platforms and the practice of flipping clothing is driven by more than environmental consciousness. The need for income, the ability to find something unique, and the desire for autonomous work play into the resale market. Vintage sellers find value by liquidating closets and thrift stores for items with potential value. The business of ‘flipping’ items of clothing is booming. The aforementioned peacock chairs can go for quite a bit online, but can also be found around thrift stores for a few dollars. Taken en masse, the vintage sellers of the digital world are upsetting traditional retail markets and influencing all the way up the ladder to luxury fashion. 

As the Celine ad highlights, digital vintage sellers are influencing up. The fashion world is chasing trend-hustlers of all ages and locations, Instagram influencers, and real-life moms. Fashion theory has long been preoccupied with mapping the driving force of fashion. Fashion was long understood as the province of the elite, as coming out of their need to distinguish themselves from the lower classes. The argument went: the elite take up a look to signal their eliteness. Those below them copy the look to gain influence and possible entrée into the elite group. The elite then have to find a new fashion to help them stand out, which they do until the lower classes start to copy. This in-group/out-group game was long thought to drive fashion. This is not the only theory on fashion, as many have argued that fashion is no longer exclusively the domain of the elite, nor are they the only drivers of trends. The example of vintage resellers and the boho trends support the alternate theory that fashion is driven from the bottom up. 

Excorporation

John Fiske [11] argues that it’s the subordinate classes and subcultures (those not in the capitalist class) that create pop culture. He argues that those with less social power “make do with what is available” and in the process create new — and contest established — cultural meanings. Because those with less social power do not have the capital to “produce” things (i.e., they do not own the means of production), they have to “make do” with what’s already been produced by the elite (the capitalists). In the process of making do, the subordinate classes alter and contest cultural meaning and significance. They create cultural and economic value. Novelty comes from those outside the capitalist class and, as in the case here, outside of the fashion elite. Fiske called this bottom-up process “excorporation,” or using what is around to make new things, meanings, and symbols. In the vintage world, excorporation is easy to see: vintage sellers renew fashion, boho, or cottage core from what is available, from what’s been discarded or left behind. 

Inversely, incorporation refers to the counter process, when the elite (the capitalists) capture and reproduce what’s been made by the subordinate classes. When everyone started ripping their jeans in the 1980s, designer labels, eager to make a profit, soon started selling jeans pre-ripped. [9] Once the elite/capitalist class takes over a fashion or look, the subversive meaning is diluted and lost. The subordinate find new material, making do with something new. We see this happening in luxury fashion as discussed here. The elite fashion houses are copying and incorporating culture and aesthetics from the masses. 

“[The clothing resale market] is a natural extension of mothers’ domestic labor, which includes managing household wardrobes and closets. ”

A look at Gucci and Celine’s latest lines shows a reliance on vintage looks that take their cues from the masses, or from ‘below.’ These fashion houses are recreating vintage and thrift looks found on Instagram accounts from women flipping a Goodwill find for a significant markup. Fashion critic Cathy Horyn recently wrote that Celine offers an example of luxury fashion moving away from "the 'esoteric' and difficult fashion" because "we live in a world with less patience," an impatience, I argue, due to the speed of social media. [12] The elite don't have the only grip on fashion in a social media world; it moves too fast, and different looks from different corners of the world rise quickly and virally to the surface. 

Both Celine and Gucci’s recreations of vintage are examples of incorporation, of the elite/capitalist class copying from below. Tashjian argues that Gucci, “for all its expense and commitment to excess, is perhaps the most democratic fashion house look: anyone with a good eye for color and a Depop account can pile on the vintage and the glasses.” [4] Depop and other resale platforms allow ‘anyone’ to make something new out of what is available. I would argue that Gucci’s “democratic” look has less to do with celebrating the masses, and more to do with staying relevant and engaged with a digitally mediated consumer base. Incorporating, taking what those with a Depop account make, sell, and wear, highlights not only the reliance on the masses, but also on the increasing value of vintage. 

Incorporating Machines, Excorporating Moms

Luxury fashion must expand its global reach to not only stay profitable but to justify its position at the top of the fashion hierarchy. It’s increasingly difficult to stay relevant in a market with moms, teens, and everyone else competing for attention, not to mention the crumbling markets impacted by COVID. Celine and Gucci are taking cues from vintage to stand out. Vintage by its nature remains up for grabs. Anyone who can get to a thrift store could potentially score an item that is more unique and quirky than anything being mass produced by Gucci. The thrill of the hunt is an exciting element that traditional retail, including luxury, cannot match (and not to mention that thrift store haul videos make great digital content). Vintage, by nature of its scarcity, therefore resists incorporation. Celine is clearly trying to incorporate the look of vintage by pulling together a collection that draws from the multiple decades and the influence of #boho (or the French interpretation of it). But even Celine can’t fully incorporate the look. A vintage concert tee from 1974 or red-line Levi’s are more exclusive than designer labels. If we want to think about fashion trends, the most radical place to look may be what the middle-aged moms are up to on Instagram. Just ask Hedi Slimane.

Notes

[1] “Hippies are the new hipsters” by Jenni Avins https://qz.com/quartzy/979716/hippies-are-the-new-hipsters/

[2] “What exactly is cottagecore and how did it get so popular?” by Kate Reggev https://www.architecturaldigest.com/story/what-exactly-is-cottagecore#:~:text=Cottagecore%20began%20to%20fill%20people's,from%20%E2%80%9Cbudding%E2%80%9D%20to%20blooming%20to

[3] “Escape into cottagecore, calming ethos for our febrile moment” by Isabel Slone, https://www.nytimes.com/2020/03/10/style/cottagecore.html

[4] “You don’t have to be Harry Styles to look great in a Gucci Dress” by Rachel Tashjian, URL: https://www.gq.com/story/gucci-ss-21-harry-styles

[5] Rocamora, A. (2017). “Mediatization and digital media in the field of fashion.” Fashion Theory, 21:5, 505-522.

[6] “How luxury fashion was reduced to logomania” by Eugene Rabkin, URL: https://www.highsnobiety.com/p/luxury-fashion-appeal-lost-today/

[7] Asians Wear Clothes on the Internet. Minh Ha T Pham Pham, Minh Ha T. 2015 Raleigh: Duke Press.

[8] https://www.etsy.com/shop/auxetoilesvintage

[9] Duffy, B. E., & Hund, E. (2015). “Having it all” on social media: Entrepreneurial femininity and self-branding among fashion bloggers. Social Media + Society, 1(2), 1-11.

[10] “What the Pandemic means for women in the hustle economy” by Tressie McMillan Cottom, URL: https://filene.org/blog/what-the-pandemic-means-for-women-in-the-hustle-economy

[11] Fiske, John. 1989 “The Jeaning of America” URL: http://xroads.virginia.edu/~DRBR2/fiske2.pdf

[12] “John Galliano’s Thrift-Store Subversion And Dries Van Noten’s nightclub fantasy.” Cathy Horyn. URL: https://www.thecut.com/2020/02/cathy-horyn-paris-fashion-week-review-margiela-dries.html