It's not in dispute that the fashion industry is in some dark times right now; what are as-yet unanswered questions is just how bad things are, and what that will mean for future patterns of consumer spending.

On the former point, The Atlantic's Benjamin Schwartz takes a dire view indeed, calling the most recent New York fashion week "a splendid relic" and quoting liberally from F. Scott Fitzgerald's Depression-era essays on the free-spending, free-spirited, bull-market 1920s, and what the period meant. (Whether Schwartz's blithely generic line, "The current collapse, universally labeled within the fashion world a depression," and inclusion of data about the layoffs of just under 2,000 people at Saks Fifth Avenue and Neiman Marcus are strong enough factual support to bear the weigh of Fitzgerald and his Jazz Age elegies is questionable; if and when we see California close its borders and tens of thousands of hoboes camp out on the Washington Mall, then we'll know for sure if this downturn merits a comparison in absolute terms with the Great D.)

But Schwartz's article gets a lot of things right, too. He's mostly on point with the queasy timeloop of fashion, wherein collections are presented six months ahead of the season for which they are designed, made of fabrics ordered six months earlier, and financed with the proceeds of the collection which had, all the way back then, just left stores. If anyone wondered why last September's collections seemed so deaf to the sudden financial crisis ringing through the land, that was why. Similarly, the glut of unsold product that clogged the department stores last fall — and which caused Saks and others to break the rule about not discounting new stock before it had been in store two months — was all there because buyers had ordered it the previous February, when no-one foresaw the crisis, the ensuing recession, or the cataclysmic correction in consumer spending they would bring. (I don't think that, as a result, this February runway models "halved their catwalk fees" out of the goodness of our hearts, as Schwartz's odd locution implies — and the per-show rate he quotes, $20,000, is typical only of models named Naomi Campbell, anyway — it was more like designers cut rates on the girls they were paying at all, cut payment-in-trade on the girls they never were paying to begin with, and we all ate it. But that's a small misunderstanding of an industry subsection that is itself willfully obscurantist.)

Exactly how bad things are — F. Scott Fitzgerald bad, or survive-and-reorganize bad — aside, what to do about the fall in consumer spending has advertisers and magazines thinking furiously. As W magazine reported, the luxury market reached its peak in 2007; unusually, the luxury-goods sector has been hit harder than retail generally, and was down 23% last month. Counter-intuitively, publisher Nina Lawrence sees this as evidence of a "luxury renaissance." In this view, aspirational consumers are down for the count, leaving the very wealthy to enjoy the perks of membership in what is once more a very exclusive club.

Others, and Schwartz is among them, see a place for the aspirational consumer still — but that new ways of reaching her are being found. Sally Singer, Vogue's fashion news and features director, wore a year-old doubleknit cashmere Halston blazer, a J. Crew sweater, and "very old" Devi Kroell ballet flats to the first day of fashion week, and speaks of "conscientious consumption"; ergo, says Schwartz, "this idea of buying so-called investment pieces resonates more deeply today than it did even six months ago." Julie Gilhart, Barneys' senior vice president and fashion director, says, "If I were a consumer now, I'd really want to buy pieces that count, that last; the customer is in no hurry. She should be choosing these things with great care." Singer reminds us that "things that are very expensive can be very expensive for just the right reasons — because they were made beautifully by someone who really gave a lot of care to the design and by people who were fairly paid along the way to execute something that was rather difficult. Those prices that often seem high are fair prices."

Singer edits the Vogue "Views" section, which this month leads off with an exclusive story about Christopher Kane's new position as creative director of Versus, Versace's relaunched, lower-priced line. The Kane-designed "gladiator heels" in the accompanying photograph cost $3,400.

Karl Lagerfeld would support Singer's view. As he tweeted yesterday: "Guilty feelings about clothes are totally unnecessary. A lot of people earn their living by making clothes, so you should never feel bad."

Chanel is a privately held company, so of course it's impossible for any of us to actually know what else besides honest middle-class livings for garment workers is financed by the cost of a $2,000 purse or a $4,000 dress.

The entire idea of "investment" dressing is actually pretty dubious, writes Lesley M. M. Blume, at The Big Money. It's nothing more than a marketing term designed to separate us from our hard-earned cash, says Dana Thomas, the author of last year's De-Luxe: How Luxury Lost Its Luster. "They're just changing the slogans. It used to be, everyone deserves a little luxury and a little splurge. Now that no one can afford the splurge, the business executives are all scratching their heads and saying, how can we repackage this again? So now you're buying 'quality things that last forever.' "

Investments are, after all, supposed to hold or rise in value — but this season's $1,600 purse depreciates as soon as it leaves Bergdorf's, like a new car burning off value as it leaves the lot. Only a few luxury items can actually fetch comparable prices when sold second-hand (as-new Birkin bags can actually rise slightly in resale value, since Hermès controls the $6,000-and-up retail market with extraordinary artificial scarcity, closed three-year waiting lists and all). But when the resale boutique commissions (or eBay and PayPal fees) are taken into account, the "value" of a Birkin — or any fashion item — depreciates, often precipitously. "Investment" is a weasel word in fashion, and it's a disappointment to see The Atlantic repeating an advertising term uncritically.

Whether Singer and Gilhart are sincere in their belief that, as Singer puts it, "the world does not need more things," it's true that both work for companies that make their living by stoking the fires of consumption. (Cathy Horyn nailed Vogue's particular blitheness when she wondered at its "peculiar fascination for the ‘villa in Tuscany' story" this January; you would also do well to remember last September's $64,000 gold-dipped fur coat by Fendi, which is of course designed by Karl Lagerfeld. "Value" indeed.) I'm not saying that these industry figures, and others who share their sympathies, can't and won't lead us into a new, more sustainable era of fashion; I'm just saying I'm wary of anything that, at least for now, still has the feel of a cannily adjusted marketing strategy.

Fashion in Dark Times [The Atlantic]
A Luxury Renaissance Is Upon Us [The Cut]
Luxury As An Investment? [The Big Money]
Karl Lagerfeld's Twitter [Twitter]

Earlier:
When A Fashionista Turns On Fashion
Fashion Week: The Party's Not Over Yet
New York Times Bets Against Anna Wintour, American Vogue

To MC's credit, they are offering a free download of Mandy Moore's new single "I Could Break Your Heart Any Day of the Week" if you give them your e-mail address or something. And there is a really interesting article about a matriarchal society in rural China where booty calls are a tradition and the words, "rape" and "war" do not exist in their vocabulary. But all this effort is canceled out by "cheap" finds for under $250 and ways to make your sex "green" when um, isn't au naturel sex green in the first place? Below: We rewrite the cover lines to reflect the unnecessary consumption suggested in this month's issue.

How can fashion magazines be fun and entertaining (and plug their high-end advertisers) without alienating broke or budget-sensitive readers? Awkwardly, Traister claims.

In Elle's February issue, editor in chief Roberta Myers argues that it wouldn't kill a "crazy smart" financial reporter she's seen on television to buy a decent blouse, and recommends "bargains" from Topshop, JC Penney and H&M. The same issue pushes patent leather open-toe shoe with black socks attached by Proenza Schouler for $1,815.

The January issue of Vogue features an essay by Lori Campbell, who used to be embarrassed by her mother's choice to live off the grid in Hawaii — she used to think it was "cheap and poor," but now that it's "green and fashionable," it's okay. And who can forget Glamour's January issue, which features "100 Perfect Outfits That Are Already In Your Closet."

Traister writes:

This is very practical advice. It is very sturdy. It is very sage. It is very depressing. As someone who kind of loathes shopping, I nonetheless am horrified by the idea. No one should shop in their own closet unless they are rich and their closet is huge, in which case, they can probably still afford to shop outside their closet anyway. For the rest of us, this is just a fancy way of saying, "Wear the same clothes you've been wearing for the past 10 years." I admire the sentiment, but it's precisely this kind of workmanlike thrift that could suck all the joy out of magazine reading.

The question is: When it comes to editorial content, Is it better to pretend that the economic climate doesn't matter, and continue to present a glossy, luxe world to which the reader can escape? Or does it insult the reader's intelligence to promote $1,815 open-toed shoes?

Meanwhile, according to WWD, filmmaker R.J. Cutler's documentary about Vogue could serve as an unintended visual landmark of the "last hurrah of the luxury boom" when it screens at Sundance this weekend. The film, titled The September Issue, is the result of a year spent with Anna Wintour and the process that goes into making a single issue of the iconic magazine. Is this truly the end of an era? Wintour reportedly contemplates the end of her career in the doc, but Cutler says, "I have to let the film speak for itself on that."

In the clip above, director R.J. Culter discusses The September Issue.

"Shop in your own closet!", Meet The Filmmaker: R.J. Cutler [Salon]
Memo Pad [WWD]

It costs a fortune to look like a neglectarino urchin from the (stylish) streets. For instance: Check out the shredded, distressed and holey jeans on the far right. They're $325.

Poor thing spent so much on her $428 dress and $321 t-shirt that she can't afford to pay someone to iron her ensemble for her. Hard times!

This young lady's blazer is Marc Jacobs, of course. Mommy and Daddy will have to pay $388 for that. The ruffled top is $218; the shorts, with strings hanging from them, that certain parents would be loathe to allow a well-bred daughter to wear in public, cost $168.

"Upgrade your bookbag," the cover suggests. The first proposal? This canvas tote by Coach, at $348.

The coach bag too plain? Try this bright and happy cotton bag at the bargain-basement price of $263.

Finally, something (almost) affordable: This Harajuku Lovers canvas tote only looks like a quilted Chanel bag, therefore costs $98. Maybe you can work overtime at the DQ?

Teen Vogue [Official Site]

"I was in Saks last week, and there were these staggering discounts and it’s not even Jan. 1. I was told by easily half a dozen sales associates that if I opened a Saks credit card, I’d get another 15 percent off. What I wonder is, 'What are the real margins?'"

Alana Semuels writes in the Wall Street Journal that some luxury brands are throwing lavish parties in order to "trigger that buying feeling." Extravagant events aren't a waste if you target your customer and instill loyalty, the thinking goes.

But on the retail level, Mr. Trebay writes of Valentino evening gowns marked down 60%, of Loro Piana cashmere blazers priced at $329, down from $2,000. Here's the thing: In this uncertain and tough economic climate, does "luxury" lose its appeal altogether, no matter the "bargain"? Questions Trebay:

Once consumers become acquainted with slash-and-burn prices, how can designer fashion regain its mystique? Will shoppers ever again want to buy luxury goods at full price?

Listen, even if you could never afford any "luxury" items, they still had a place, a role as untouchably elegant and remote; something to fantasize about. Does a Marc Jacobs bag still seem special, rare and unique when you've seen a bin full of them at slashed prices? Never mind what happens to a dream deferred — what happens to a dream marked down?

Luxury Prices Are Falling; the Sky, Too [NY Times]
Luxury Brands Go Over The Top To Connect With Wealthy Clients [WSJ]

You'd think that anything with a pot leaf on it would be a given in this challenge. Alas, these "edgy" crystal purses are $1,400 each.

Just one of the many pages upon which there was nothing under $100. The scooters are $25,000 each; the lamp is $2,400 and the perfumes, excusez-moi, Elixirs Charnels, are $250 each.

Finally! Something well under $100. Dior mascara, $27. Not as fun as a $225 watch, a $225 sterling ice cream bucket or a $300 ring of amethyst, but whatever.

Maybe you decorate your home with beer bottles and ashtrays for a hundred bucks or less. But these "beer bottle" vases are hand etched. And made from, um, recycled beer bottles. They'll cost you $140-$220. The ash tray is $600, which means if you put a lit cigarette in it, you're an asshole.

$95 will get you a set of two "glass swirls," seen in the center of this page. "Indulge your twisted side with fanciful twirled-glass pieces to display as your spirit guides," reads the copy. Yeah, you're thinking, but what do they do? Whatever they do, they're doing it now. You're looking at it.

Since the jacket is $1250, the blouse $275, the shoe $975, the tote on the right $3,380 and the rings $155-$360, the only thing you can buy on this page is ONE horn bangle at $65.

More stuff for your home: Crystal anters too pricey at $1,900? Don't have the funds for a $9,000 side table or a $2500 lucite rococo chair? You can still pick up ONE mercury glass votive candle, pre-filled with wax! Sixty bucks.

Perhaps you'd prefer ONE spice bowl ($75) or regular bowl ($55)? Or ONE napkin ring ($95)? Too bad you won't be able to get the $235 salt and pepper shakers: Thanks to the Republicans, elephants are having a year.

Vivre [Official Site]