Renton's vitriol, not surprisingly, is reserved for those people not actually adversely affected by the economic downturn. "Thrift is of course the latest middle-class indulgence; where once we spent on goats to Africa, this year we're spending nothing. Why? How many people are actually poorer this Christmas?"

Well, stateside, quite a few of us. But the point is well-taken: those most ostentatiously hoisting the thrift flag are not always those for whom it is necessity. Renton is angry that these folks aren't supporting the economy; I find this somewhat disingenuous, as I'd be very surprised to find that most of these folks against whom he rails — that is, those not economically affected — are really denying themselves in a significant way — even if their public consumption is curtailed. But what's not curtailed? The platitudes. It grows wearing to see the well-compensated Today show hosts furrowing their brows daily over coupon clipping and Martha Stewart droning conscientiously about the cost-benefits of homemade gifts. And where socialites' naive utterances about the economy were briefly entertaining in a Petit Trianon-sort of way, the mounting body count renders this sort of philosophizing very trying indeed. Mused model/heiress Margherita Missoni to The Observer, "I find it a bit ridiculous actually, almost like it's the cool hot topic to talk about at fancy parties is the economy, which seems very decadent.'" The zeal of thrift is such that it feels less, "we're all in this together" than that it's a passing trend in which those who have the luxury will quickly lose interest - something we've anticipated for a while.

It seems inevitable that, as in those Halcyon days of the French court, My Man Godfrey and the seething unrest of the 1970s, anger is inevitable. There has been something distasteful about this full-scale embrace of novelty economizing not merely for the usual 'let-them-eat-cake' platitudes, but because in some ways it seems to deny the gravity of the situation. Look! Everyone seems to say. There's nothing we haven't seen before! There's nothing we can't handle! This part here is like the 1930s and this bit there is like the 1970s and we're smarter and more post-modern than people ever have been before and your individual problems are being taken care of - see this segment on clothing swaps?!

Not only does this roll-up-your-sleeves-let's-put-on-a-show! mentality in some wise trivialize the very grave realities of those being literally dispossessed; it also paternalistically strips the country's upheaval of some of its power for change, for reflection, for achievement. For all the panic many of us are experiencing for the first time, there are things to challenge us, things to push against. Whether this has the power to spur any artistic or philosophical achievement (or just thin the ranks of the Peaches Geldof-style slash/slash generation) is an open question; there may be nothing but a small-scale bout of decadent nihilism. The only thing that's certain is that this resolutely cheerful managing of tragedy as a game can't keep up: some of us don't have the luxury and those who do will tire of it. And for every penny "thrifty chic" might help one to save, it's surely going to breed a lot of resentment.

Humbug To thrifty Christmas [The Guardian]
At Winter Wonderland Ball, Margherita Missoni Wonders: 'Am I In The Sinking Titanic? I Think I'm In The Sinking Titanic' [New York Observer]

Earlier: Playing Recession: What'll We Do When The Novelty Wears Off?
The Complete Idiot's Guide to the Recession
Luxury Shame Will Be Big For Winter
[Image via New York Times]

Says Newsweek's Johnnie L. Roberts:

Unofficially, profligacy became passé on Oct. 6, when disgraced Lehman Brothers CEO Richard Fuld appeared at a congressional hearing after the firm's historic $600-billion bankruptcy. He encountered a blizzard of scorn over his half-billion-dollar compensation and baronial lifestyle: a $21 million Park Avenue penthouse, a $25 million estate in Greenwich, Conn., and an estimated $200 million art collection.

Since then, we've seen Vogue slumming it at Wal-Mart and luxury ad numbers drop.

It seems like even if the uberwealthy are not personally suffering, it's now in poor taste to flaunt what you've got. Call it conspicuous austerity: a newfound sensitivity has made restraint temporarily chic. And not all luxury brands can keep up: according to the New York Times,Time Style and Design, which closed before the economic downturn, now feels anachronistically tone-deaf as the totaled items "would cost more than $51 million, or about 340 times the annual income of its average reader." As one woman told The Guardian, "now, when someone admires my dress, I never say it is by Balenciaga or Bottega Veneta. I tell them it's an old Phillip Lim. This neatly conveys the message that, just like everybody else, I've cut back on shopping and am happy to wear something by a modest label." And according to the article, luxury goods makers are taking different tacks: "highlighting heirloom appeal, ", "cultivating a guilt-free image" by teaming up with charities, or allowing secret splurging with sites like Gilt.com, that send purchases in unmarked brown boxes. Says The Guardian article, "the web offers the perfect opportunity for a new breed of 'stealth shoppers', embarrassed about flaunting their wealth, or what is left of it."

While asceticism is a reality for most of the world right now, it seems unlikely that everyone with riches of this magnitude will be able to maintain such a low profile after the novelty really wears off: empathy has its limits, after all - that or the luxury industry will get wily enough to get around peoples' guilt altogether. The Depression, as we know, saw some of the starkest contrasts the country has ever known, and historically speaking, great poverty has never dampened the relative pleasures of money much. If restraint is in with people who can afford it, well, they can afford to get tired of it in a year, too - which is probably what the $175-billion global luxury market is counting on.

Luxury Shame [Newsweek]
Celebrating Luxury In The Time Of Melancholia [New York Times]
Stealth Shoppers Shun Stores And Splash Out On Luxuries Online [The Guardian]