In The Contented Soul, Lisa Graham McMinn tells the story of entering graduate school as a mother of three young children and deciding to identify herself by buying a certain brand of shoes.
“The prior decade I had been in maternity clothes or the casual clothes of a mother orchestrating the lives of three young children. Now I did what all self-respecting slightly older students returning to school did in the early 1990s–I bought myself a pair of Birkenstocks. Birkenstock wearers ate granola, grew vegetables, voted liberal, and like trees and folk music. That fit me well enough–and so I established and showcased my identity with the shoes I purchased and wore” (pg. 27, McMinn).
McMinn calls this “conspicuous consumption,” “a cycle of buying more than we need, then using, discarding and buying anew, not because we need it to live well but because it is the expected way to live.” In chapter five of The Suburban Christian, Al Hsu calls this “storifying” our lives with brand names. In other words, where we shop and the labels we wear and display on our bodies and in our homes tell the sotry we want our lives to be about.
I remember some of my early obsessions with brand names. I don’t have any memories of brand attachments prior to going to school. My mom made most of my clothes, or I received hand-me-downs from older cousins. And because we lived in a rural area, there weren’t many television stations to promote character-branded products. But once I entered school, things changed. Even in elementary school, I remember wanting Nike sneakers and a Holly Hobby bed spread. When I was a little older, I saved my Christmas money for my first pair of Jordache jeans, and somewhere along the line, Izod polo shirts became all the rage. I’m not sure I could have articulated the story I was trying to write about my life by wanting and purchasing these products. But I could point to the lives of those around me and see that I wanted what they have.
That’s the deception of falling into branding for shaping our identity. For one thing, very few brands maintain the same image over time. For instance, when I was in high school, it was embarrassing to shop at Sears. Now that I’m a homeowner who needs tools and appliances, Sears is back in vogue. The other problem is that using brand names to shape our identity doesn’t actually work, unless we are two-dimensional television characters.
In fact, I think corporate branding has made us all a little lazy in how we get to know and evaluate the world and the people in it. Rather than creating our own aesthetic style in how we dress and decorate our homes, we simply shop at the Gap or Pottery Barn. And rather than taking the time to explore the character and history of our neighbors, we identify them as the man with the blue Suburban, or the family with the matching Trek bicycles.
I consider myself fairly unbranded; I buy a lot of products in bulk from a locally owned grocery store, or from farmers whose agri-businessed don’t even have names. But I still identify myself with brand names when I tell people I listen to National Public Radio and shop at Trader Joes. I don’t tell them this so they can know my listening or shopping habits. I tell them this so they’ll know what “type” of person I am.
As a believer in Jesus, I see this chapter about brand-name consumerism less as a challenge to be a better steward in my consumption and more as a challenge to do the hard work of letting myself be identified by my love of God and others instead of the brand of my vehicle.
I also am realizing that as hard as I work to be blind to the racial and ethnic differences of the people I come into contact with, I have a long way to go in seeing beyond the corporate identies of the brand names they wear and display. I need to be intentional about moving beyond the story someone’s t-shirt is telling me to the story of the person inside the t-shirt. The real stories of the people I meet can never be captured in a logo. But it takes a lot more time and energy to hear those stories.
Erin — I am with you — I want Jesus to be my only brand loyalty. But you’re right. Just brandishing the name of Jesus for my own purposes is not what he is calling us to.
I’m reading this now and thinking to myself, “Gosh, do we ever stop searching for something to define us?!” I wrote about being in junior high, but I still do the same thing today as an adult!
All these verses from the NT that everyone is referencing really cause me to consider where I look for self- definition. Most often, and embarassingly, it is not to Jesus.
I don’t want him emblazoned across my chest in some sort of pithy saying, but I do need him emblazoned more within me. This is a good thread.
Spaghettipie — The comment from your friend from Africa is interesting. And yes, I often think I am above such lesser loyalties. But actually, I just call them by different names. My “tribe” often revolves around education or a certain way of thinking. We do need to set those aside in favor of being one in Christ.
Craver — A four dollar suit? I’ve got to see that! Our affiliations with brands definitely change over the years. Thankfully the Lord begins to eliminate some of the need to do this as we mature. But like you said, I also have work to do.
Erin — Great points. When you were talking about branding in the New Testament, my mind actually went to Gal 3:28: “There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” We can latch on to all kinds of brand names if we are not careful.
Charity, great thoughts as usual. This issue with identity is pervasive in life. I mean, what’s the first thing you normally ask someone? What do you do? (Brand) The need God created in us to find our identity in Him, we try to fill in every other place. This reminds me of something an African friend once said. He commented on how often Americans have trouble seeing how Africans can value their tribe affiliation (brand) over things like their Christianity, etc. Their loyalty lies with tribe first. He said we Americans do the same thing, we just don’t call it tribes. We place our loyalty with our denomination first or our income class first or our race first. At some point, we all have to set aside these brands and take on the identity Christ died to give us.
I would’ve given my right arm for a pair of Jordache jeans in junior high. And I haunted the Gap storefront one Christmas. I HAD to have that certain sweater!
I agree with you that corporate imaging and branding has made neat and clean categories by which to judge and be judged. Which is very convenient for people who like to scan the crowd and immediately decide “who is like what.” Also very convenient for people who don’t really know who they are and think they need someone to feed them an identity (weren’t we all struggling with identity in jr. high and high school?)
Now we can all be Britney Spears, Paris Hilton or Tom Cruise because the Hollywood reporters keep us up-to-date on what they wear, eat, drive and rub on their skin for a clear complexion. Also what they use to fertilize their plants, if you really care to know that too.
The New Testament church also dealt with identity and branding issues. “Your adornment must not be merely external–braiding the hair, and wearing gold jewelry, or putting on dresses; but let it be the hidden person of the heart, with the imperishable quality of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is precious in the sight of God. ” I Peter 3
So the question is, when all my Jordache jeans and Gap sweaters go out of style, what’s my heart lookin’ like?
Great thoughts, Charity. As Aimee talked about “all the consumer trappings that I fall for in search of identity,” my mind went back to grade school memories. My mom made us wear stuff she bought at a thrift store. As a kid, I was soooo embarrassed. Nowadays, I have the opposite reaction, beaming with pride, as I announce, “I paid four dollars for this suit.”
There are still areas that I need to work on, of course. But I think I’m moving in the right direction.
I think that when we first become Christians, we have a sense of what it means to have an identity in God. We think we know who He is.
And, yet, as with any relationship, in time we discover there is far more to the identity than we dreamed… some which we welcome and some which we don’t. We find we know God less than we thought we did (again, earthly relationships have the same dynamic).
And so over time we struggle with this identity, I think. Struggle to both understand and participate in it, all the while being wooed by it and welcomed by it. That’s all I meant.
Aimee — Isn’t it easy to look to our stuff for answers? The lie is that the more stuff we have the more complete we are as selves. Isn’t it ironic that the opposite is true? I appreciate that about you and your posts on your blog. I am praying that the Lord would not just help me be content without having all the stuff I want. I pray often that he will help me to not to want the stuff and instead want Him more.
Ted — I love your point that we shouldn’t allow our stuff to tell others what we believe. WE need to tell them by our love. And you’re right, this turns out to be far more countercultural than our stuff.
LL — Your thought that identity is not always simple intrigues me. Reminds me of some post-modern theory I’ve read about shifting identities based on the language and culture of who we’re with. Tell me more about what you mean with this . . .
Charity, this was so good to me! I love how you said that you want to be branded by your love for God and others…this is so encouraging to me to keep lifting up my eyes to Him and not all the consumer trappings that I fall for in search of identity.
The Contented Soul is a fave book of mine…I would love to re-read it and think I’ll go check it out again from the library!
And understanding that identity is not always simple, though I think it is rooted in Love. (I guess this is the direction I started going on Seedlings too… the idea that we restory our lives with a narrative of love… love as God defines it and as God has modeled it.)
And I think as we seek to completely follow Jesus, this ends up being a subersive Christianity in the world, which is at home in this world in a way, in mission and love….
Charity, A very thought provoking post. I’ve never really ridden the brand name game when it comes to clothes, anyhow, though on second thought I did get tired of wearing “Rustler” jeans, just because they were cheaper, and of course probably would have opted for a cooler brand name (like, Levi’s or whatever), so you got me there.
This post brings to mind the bumper stickers or fishes with Jesus, the cross or some Darwin thing on them. I really am not a fan of any bumperstickers or pins or shirts telling people I’m a Jesus person. Though I used to do that. And I know good, older people who sometimes do that. I’d feel more comfortable (though odd, I admit) wearing some beer shirt over some shirt with the picture of Jesus or some Christian saying on it.
I think somehow this can all diminish what Paul is talking about as you quoted. Something of the real us, us in our real humanity needs to come through in relation to others. And we need to avoid being written or writing others off because I see something that I am at odds with.
Sorry for all this rambling, but a good post like this did stir me to thinkin’.