
Virginia Postrel is the author of The Substance of Style and The Future and Its Enemies.
She writes the Economic Scene column for The New York Times business section every fourth Thursday. She writes a column for Forbes four times a year and publishes articles on cultural and economic topics in a wide range of other publications. Her influential web blog, the Dynamist, can be found at www.dynamist.com.
In a blog entry, dated December 4th, Mrs. Postrel talks about an interview she had recently in which the interviewer asked her the question “What is Cool?”
“Friday afternoon, I had an interesting phone conversation with Steven Levy, who is writing a book on the iPod. At one point, he asked why I thought the iPod had managed to stay cool even after it became ubiquitous. Doesn't a gadget have to be exclusive to be cool? No, I said. That's one kind of cool. There's another kind that depends on the intrinsic aesthetics of the product. An intrinsically cool product doesn't have to be expensive or hard to get to stay cool.
It's easy to think of cool electronics. Flat-screen TVs are cool. So is the Motorola Razr. Come to think of it, flatness is simply a cool feature in electronic products. Their cool factor doesn't depend on who owns them. That doesn't mean flatness will always seem cool. It could easily become normal and boring. (I remember when silent light switches seemed incredibly cool.) If we get used to the looks of something, if it starts to fade into the background, it loses its cool factor. But it's a mistake to confuse freshness with exclusivity.”
When I tried to think of how I would define cool, I seemed to contradict Mrs. Postrel’s statement about ownership. I think that in order for something to be cool it has to have an air of exclusivity about it.
In Malcolm Gladwell’s book, The Tipping Point, he discusses the possible means by which Hush Puppies became a major fashion trend.
“The brand had been all but dead until…somewhere between late 1994 and early 1995. Sales were down to 30,000 pairs a year, mostly to backwoods outlets and small-town family stores. Wolverine, the company that makes Hush Puppies, was thinking of phasing out the shoe that made them famous. But then something strange happened. At a fashion shoot, two Hush Puppies executives ran into a stylist from NY, who told them that the classic Hush Puppies had suddenly become hip in the clubs. ‘We were being told there were resale shops in the Village and
How did this happen? Those first few kids, whoever they were, weren’t deliberately trying to promote Hush Puppies. They were wearing them precisely because no one else would wear them.”
It wasn’t because the design of Hush Puppies had changed and incorporated a new feature that made them cool. They were the same brushed-suede shoes they had always been. What made them cool was a basic principal of economics – supply & demand. It wasn’t easy to find Hush Puppies anymore. Trendy, club hoppers looking for something different to wear stumbled across these old shoes and started wearing them. They became cool because not everyone had them.
I think one of the comments made on the Postrel blog hit it right on the head. “You can’t define coolness because “coolness” is more about the emotional than the intellectual. Sometimes you can explain why something, it is super fantastic. Other times, you can only feel the super fantasticness - the recognition that the emotional response to the item under consideration precedes and sometimes preempts the rational consideration, so that we want something before we know precisely why we want it. It is his opinion that if we train out tastes over time, through exposure to truly wonderful things, we can come to rely upon such emotional responses as being worthwhile of acknowledgement. For example, the shoe designer, Manolo, does not need to articulate and explain why he loves a particular shoe, because he can feel, and he has learned to trust his tastes in such matters of feeling.
This it is exactly what is happening to