A Different Drum: ‘Distressed’ now means anything but a mess
“Distressed” appears to be the word of not just the hour, but of the decade. Not only is everything old new again, but everything old-looking (with the notable exception of aging people) seems to be regarded as more desirable than its new or newer-looking counterparts.
This has been fueled by the recycling and upcycling of consumer goods, the latter a practice sometimes referred to as “trashion,” which may involve creating fashion, jewelry, art and/or objects for the home from used, thrown-out, found and repurposed elements. Despite the garbagy name and description, this can be done very tastefully. Consider the “painted chair” fundraising events that have become popular in recent years.
When I look from the inside out at used good trends through the lens of someone who has spent the greater part of her adulthood frequenting antique and vintage stores (sorry, but I’m not a garage sale gal — too time-consuming), I defend my motivations for shopping for time-tested wares thusly: many well-used, historic goods are better made than the new ones offered for sale today.
On the flip side, “new made to look old” leave me cold. Sure, there are decent reproductions, but I prefer the real deal because items created prior to the advent of planned obsolescence are more likely to be able to accrue several more years of wear before needing replacement.
Last week, I went on one of what I like to call a “button harvest,” where I purchase inexpensive clothing from thrift stores specifically to remove the buttons from it. The result involves using the vintage buttons to replace the flimsier ones that are only halfway sewn on newer clothing.
With that mindset in mind, you can imagine my chagrin when one of my kids’ puppies managed to get a hold of my heirloom wooden sock darning egg and chewed the crap out of the handle on it. Honestly! No respect for tradition and thrift. And those two furry little sock thieves were the likely culprits who gnawed holes (that necessitated darning) in the toes of the socks they snitched.
It’s maddening; however, the blame for this destructive behavior pattern falls on me, who forgets to secure the laundry room door during daily chores. When the puppies are on a teething rampage, they seem to ignore older, more broken-in footwear for newer shoes and boots. Except for my decade-old pair of yardwork-relegated tan leather topsiders, which my son’s puppy took a chunk out of the topside of recently. Perhaps the pup was just trying to embellish the shoe’s already authentic distressed look.
The hot mess of clothing that falls under the “distressed” banner is still widely sought-after, especially by younger people, although some older people (me included) have also embraced it, albeit more occasionally. Two years ago, I purchased a new pair of Clark’s Cloudstepper shoes for only $3 at a used store because the style looked so overly distressed. The clerk apologized to me for the “really bad shape” they were in and I promised to try and “clean them up” once I got home. Score!
In my unofficial estimation, jeans are the most widely worn distressed bit of fashion. Distressed jeans, officially, have been purposely damaged or in ways that make them look like they’ve been worn for a long, long time. According to thejeansite.com, they feature “fraying instead of ripped holes, with frayed fabric where the holes would be. It is common to find distressed jeans that have faded fabric, bleached areas and frayed hems or seams.”
Additionally, if the fraying and discoloration of weakened areas weren’t enough, there’s now a lot of “raw hem” denim on the market where unevenly-cut fabric and fringy-looking loose threads have replaced the traditional even-bottom jeans pant legs. I don’t mind seeing distressed jeans at casual events, but I’m not a fan of them for weddings, funerals and church.
Quality distressed items definitely make great gifts. I’ve given my daughter a wonderfully worn, still functional Orvis moleskin satchel, and my son a vintage Cole Haan bay leather messenger bag. I carry a classic, five-pocket L.L. Bean tan leather briefcase that looks like it might have belonged to attorney Clarence Darrow. On it, I rest my case for authentically distressed items.
— Kristy Smith’s Different Drum humor columns are archived at her blog: diffdrum.wordpress.com.
This article originally appeared on The Holland Sentinel: A Different Drum: ‘Distressed’ now means anything but a mess
