I'd gone into the store thinking I was going to buy a shirt. STRIPES, particular stripes in particular colours. I had a good idea of what I was looking for and content to browse. A sales guy approached, and as usual, I tried to dismiss him with an "it's ok, I'm just looking". The sales guy, persistent as they are wont to be insisted to let him know what it was I was looking for.
So, stripes, shirt, ah… wait a minute and quick return with a striped wollen jacket and another sales guy. Not what I was looking for and not a shirt, but, not horrible, in fact I quite liked it and was contemplating trying it on. I liked the style until I saw the logo emblazoned on its left breast pocket.
"I'm sorry" I said, "I hate logos" and turned to continue looking for a shirt. Meanwhile the first sales guy shows me another wollen jacket, by which time I was becoming uninterested. Until… the second guy beckons me over to him, presents the first jacket again, but this time the logo had gone! He'd unpicked the stitching that had made up the logo, leaving only a few loose threads which I fussed with a little before agreeing that "yes – I'll take it".
I suppose it's the fact that you're a walking bill board for the manufacturer when you wear clothes that are no more than a canvas for their logo that I don't like. I remember a time when there were no logos, when you chose clothes because you liked them. You weren't trying to be ostentatious or allying yourself to a particular group. You could dare to be individual. You could be your own logo.
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