On an evening stroll around Belsize Village, I chanced upon such a beauty that I instantly fell in lust. A sleek two-seater Ferrari, translated in my imagination to a regal black panther, compelled me to take a photo. As I reluctantly walked away I was thinking that if only, like handbags, one could buy a near perfect imitation Ferrari for a fraction of the actual new or second-hand price. There’s a conversation to be had about fake luxury brands. I once bought not one but three copy handbags when on holiday in Marbella. Partly I felt sorry for the hawkers balancing a dozen bags on each arm and desperate to sell, but also I wanted the experience of being that person in possession of a bag designed by fashion top dogs. Over a few years, out and about with those bags, I occasionally got recognition – “Ooh look at you Miss Gucci!” Eventually the three notorious handbags started to look too shabby and made their way to one of the Haverstock Hill charity shops.
Now a teenage friend has told me that he’s planning to buy some designer shades from a site where a pair of imitation Ralph Laurens will cost him a mere £2. On hearing this, I replied with a drawn out “Nooo!” and backed up my spontaneous response in defence of designers, these days often subject to being copied in such a mass way. My reaction wasn’t because I’ve become a better person since my Spanish brand binge but rather the shock that some online shop is practically giving away what my friend described as “bang on perfect copies.”
On reflection I see that my reaction was hypocritical. It doesn’t matter whether you spend a couple of quid or thirty euros on a fake, it makes no difference whether the transaction happens anonymously over the internet or you have to look into the eyes of the person selling the imitation (and possibly do some haggling) – a fake is a fake. If I put myself in a world class designer’s shoes – and I’d love to literally do that – how painful it must be to witness somebody else take your invention and profit from it. Some consolation is my belief that those who clone and essentially make themselves scammers, must end up failing. I think you can copy somebody’s idea but not their unique creativity which is integral to long-term success on many levels. “You can copy my dress, but you can’t steal my crown,” I read online – not my own words!
Recently there’ve been public conversations about another aspect of copying – appropriation. We must be sensitive to another culture’s dress code, and especially when that nation of people or tribe is not a dominant one or has expressed their viewpoint. Now that I’ve heard how Native Americans don’t care for non-Natives wearing feathered headdresses, I’m sure, should I be invited to a fancy dress party, I can find something else to wear. This month Texan-born singer Beyonce has been slammed by some for writing two country style songs which have become very popular. The backlash is that Beyonce can’t now make country music because…she isn’t white? She hasn’t done it before? If Beyonce’s decision to pivot her style in a new direction is a problem, then perhaps we need to look both ways and question the acceptance of reggae group UB40 or rapper Eminem, or indeed every white musician who has ever created soulful R&B. And, surely the matter is closed (or the proverbial ‘mic is dropped’) because one of the best country songs ever Lady sung by the wonderful Kenny Rodgers, was written by Lionel Richie.
As with musicians who adopt genres that don’t belong to their obvious ancestry, I’m all for people allowing themselves to be inspired by others. Inspiration, which in Latin translates to ‘breath of life,’ is stimulating and motivating. Nowadays I get a deal of inspiration from my Instagram feed. I’m that geek that loves videos about home hacks, snappy arts and crafts tutorials, and food recipes that can be completed in the half hour it takes to listen to Radio 4’s six o’clock news programme. And here’s the interesting thing – as much as I try to adhere to the steps I’ve been shown in those online posts and replicate what I’ve seen, my creations never ever turn out to look the same. It doesn’t matter how simple the instructions, somehow my art and cooking are very much my own version.
As for that Ferrari that I keep on thinking about (so much so that suddenly the roads are full of them as per the frequency illusion phenomenon,) truth is that in Kondo-speak I’m “sparked with joy” that somethings can’t be copied and I take off my Stetson-like felt hat to that.
Cover Photo: Latest art project inspired by an online art tutorial – blow up a balloon, glue tissue paper to it, burst the balloon and hey presto you have a perfectly round upright bowl…or not.
