Product Description

Luxury isn't just for the rich, says James B. Twitchell. Today you don't need a six-figure income to wear pashmina, drink a limited-edition coffee at Starbucks, or drive a Mercedes home to collapse on the couch in front of a flat-screen plasma TV. In Living It Up, sharp-eyed consumer anthropologist Twitchell takes a witty and insightful look at luxury -- what it is, who defines it, and why we can't seem to get enough of it.

In recent years, says Twitchell, luxury spending has grown much faster than overall spending -- and it continues to grow despite the economic recession. Luxury has become such a powerful marketing force that it cuts across every layer of society, spawning a magazine devoted to spas, cashmere bedspreads on sale at Kmart, and a dazzling array of bottled waters.

Twitchell says that the democratization of luxury has had a unifying effect on culture. Luxury items tell a story that we want to identify with, and more people than ever aspire to the story of Ralph Lauren's Polo or Patek Philippe. Shopping itself is no longer a chore but a transcendent experience in which we shop not so much for goods as for an identity.

Sharply observed and wickedly funny, Living It Up is a revealing and entertaining examination of why we are all part of the cult of luxury.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #64638 in Books
• Published on: 2003-07-02
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Paperback
• 320 pages

From Publishers Weekly
As the author of works on advertising, materialism and modern culture, University of Florida professor Twitchell should have been the most immune to acquisitive desire while doing research in posh Rodeo Drive and Madison Avenue stores. That he was momentarily struck with passion by a Ralph Lauren tie not only demonstrates his humanity, but also underlines one of his theses: no one is above a bit of luxury lust. The reason for this, he says, is, "We understand each other not by sharing religion, politics, or ideas. We share branded things. We speak the Esperanto of advertising, luxe populi." These are sentiments voiced by many who study consumer culture, but Twitchell addresses conspicuous consumption in a new way, free of the superior tone often adopted by his academic peers. He embarks on a course of fieldwork that is both absurdist and charming, as he chats up Fendi salespeople and stands slack-jawed in the lobby of the Bellagio hotel in Las Vegas. With the research done, but the tie unbought, he comes away with insights about the American quest for luxury products and provides a history of such yearning: "The balderdash of cloistered academics aside, human beings did not suddenly become materialistic. We have always been desirous of things." Many of those things, in the recent past and definitely in the present, have been imbued with an aura of opulence and indulgence, Twitchell posits, leading to a kind of emotional satisfaction through shopping, especially for items outside one's budget. With its intelligence and wit, Twitchell's exploration of consumerism belongs in every shopping bag.
Copyright 2002 Cahners Business Information, Inc.

From Booklist
Ah, the evils of luxury. Spending for its own sake, accumulating unnecessary "stuff," the need to own for status, the trophy car, the trophy home, designer everything. But here's the conundrum: what is considered luxury for one generation is considered necessity for the next, and today's credit-addicted society makes luxury, or at least the appearance of luxury, available to all. Who better to sort the whole thing out than Twitchell, one of Newsweek 's "100 Cultural Elite." He has some interesting tidbits about what has been considered opulent in the past, and he has coined a new term for those universally craved name-brand objects--opuluxe. It's image above substance--think Ralph Lauren, Gucci, Montblanc, Nike, Evian, and Starbucks. But is the desire for high-end junk as wasteful and garish as it seemed when it was available to only the few? Twitchell makes the case for a mild defense of luxury in that its mass consumption ultimately lifts up the masses economically. David Siegfried
Copyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved

Janet Maslin, New York Times
[An] engaging addition to the growing field of Luxe Lit.

Customer Reviews

A glorious state of denial
This deserves three stars, at least, for its wit. Even as I disagreed with Twitchell, I found myself wanting to read more.

There are several things terribly wrong with his argument, such as his ignoring the mindlessness of much consumption. He thinks consumers are aware, but that doesn't hold water, or advertisers would not make or spend so much to influence everyone, and they would not be so successful.

The real trouble I have with this book is that Twitchell never, ever connects the growing consumption of "unnecessary" luxury goods with the incredible destruction they are causing all over the world. Even a passing acknowledgment of the environmental catastrophe related to our consumption would make this a better book. At least he could admit he's only interested in luxury as a construct, as something to play with philosophically.

Still, it's definitely worth a read.

Terrible
The author has no familiarity with his subject and routinely provides the reader with incorrect information.

A Guilty Gordon Gekko
Living it Up starts with the premise that consumption--even overconsumption--is good for the economy and good for your community. Twitchell makes a coherent argument that those who pay ridiculous prices for things they don't need make it possible for the rest of us to pay lower prices for the same things. Then, what used to be a luxury to one generation (indoor plumbing, cars, computers) becomes a necessity for the next.

But somehow, Twitchell seems guilty about all this. He even quotes Gekko (from the movie Wall Street), a bit sheepishly. He praises "first-users" (those who buy the first VCRs, etc. at high prices) while sneering at the stereotypical yuppie with all his toys. Professor Twitchell mocks the voluntary simplicity movement by picking the most hypocritical example he can find, of a back-to-nature advocate who buys acres of her neighbor's land. But he ignores such aspects as not spending more than you have, reducing the amount of stuff you own, enjoying the occasional luxury rather than shopping as a habit.

Interesting reading if you are fascinated by our consumer culture, but a bit confusing as the professor tries to decide where he stands on over-consumption.