The Carhartt-ization of Asheville

Just this past weekend, at an unnamed boutique downtown, I watched two women purchase a combined $425.00 worth of Carhartt apparel. I know the number because I was in line behind them and clocked it because as someone who grew up in rural America and thus was familiar with Carhartt as a brand worn by hunters and farmers long before anyone who considered themselves a boutique would deign to stock it, I continue to be astounded by not only its popularity—you truly cannot walk down a street in Asheville without seeing someone in a Carhartt beanie—but current price taggage. 

I learned via a recent GQ UK article that Carhartt has two divisions: a fashion division (mainly available in Europe) and a workwear division, which is primarily available in the US, and which many a hipster are turning into capital-F FASHION.  As the article astutely says,

Both of these lines have been adopted by the blue collar cosplay of today’s menswear scene. So much so, that when NYC cool kids started wearing domestic Carhartt around 2020, memes began circulating on social media reading “Wearing Carhartt gear is wild. Are you a student? A hipster? A licensed forklift operator? No-one knows”. Office workers playing fancy dress as manual workers who face genuine occupational hazards? It deserves a gentle mocking. That said, the aesthetic of functional clothes has appealed to the fashionable since the Beats began wearing jeans in the fifties. It’s all down to that almost mythical quality: ‘authenticity’.

“Are you a student? A hipster? A licensed forklift operator?” truly makes me L-O-L.  

I think that’s what bugs me most about the fashionization of Carhartt and Asheville is how both are symbolic of the overwhelming desire for people to cosplay authenticity instead of genuinely being authentic. I remember seeing a window full of Carhartt fashion in a shop in Marshall this summer. The prices weren’t outrageous, but they weren’t blue-collar. And I wondered if, say, a forklift operator who’s called Marshall home for years and had been wearing Carhartt to work for years because of its functionality and affordability would feel comfortable walking into that store in his hometown, knowing that his work gear was upmarked there for a population that’s slowing driving up prices in the area. I don’t know…maybe I’m getting a little too woke and navel gazey for my own good. Still, I think the Carharttiziation of Asheville—and its ubiquity in a population that loves crying out for social justice but then participates in the economics that help further the class divide—is emblematic of Asheville progressives and at least deserves a mention…or a rambling thinkpiece. 

I also think the ubiquity of Carhartt, while still being worn by a population that thinks themselves unique, bugs me. Like, the people that wear Carhartt probably look down at anyone who shops at Lululemon or owns Stanley cups, and yet, to describe their ethos, I’m going to use a quote from an article panning the basic bitches who showcase their status and social standing…through water vessels. 

The sameness of it all is one of the things that gets me. One of the reasons I have such disdain for influencer culture is because it’s a proud cycle of over-consumerism that doesn’t even have the decency to be original about it.

So, there you have my rambling think piece. I hope you learned something. Or at least commiserate with my bitchiness.