Let me put it this way, in my best Claude Rains impersonation from Casablanca: I am shocked, shocked! Shocked that anyone believed that a pair of pants had a damn thing to do with your skin and dermatological health.
The New York Times recently revealed in laboratory testing that Lululemon’s VitaSea fabric, used in its popular yoga pants and apparel, does not, in fact, release special marine amino acids and help your skin.
According to The Toronto Star, Blackmont Capital analyst Barbara Gray “believe[s] this controversy could challenge [Lululemon’s] strong brand image, authenticity and loyal cult following.”
I hate to break it to Barbara and all her futures-trading friends, but this revelation isn’t going to impact Lulu’s stock or sales in the slightest. Lululemon sells a lifestyle more than it sells products, and the skin-cleansing capacity of their pants is simply not part of the lifestyle they market. The people who buy the company’s caboose-hugging pants probably don’t put much stock in Barb’s stock predictions. In fact, all signs point to company’s fortunes continuing to rise.
Sure, products are ostensibly what a consumer purchases. But when a person walks out of a trendy clothing store, what they get out of the deal is not just a pair of pants or a sports bra. Rather, they walk out with a certain brand name that says something about the way they live. By sporting Lululemon, what they are telling the world is, “Hey! Look at me! Yeah I do some yoga and I like to chill. Also, doesn’t my ass look GREAT in these pants?”
Most of the above statement may or may not be true, but if I may digress for a moment, I feel obliged to point out that the answer to the last question is always and without fail a resounding “YES.” Those pants are worth every penny as far as I’m concerned. They make normal asses look like they’ve been salsa-dancing for the past five years and make great asses look like they should be on a billboard for La Senza. God help us if we ever see a shot of J-Lo in those things, I may not be able to leave the house.
Anyway, the point is you need not be “chill” and certainly need not do yoga to enjoy the pants and their reputed comfort. In purchasing a pair of black and lavender stretch capris, you’re buying a share in a community of people who share a ready-made style and image. That’s the whole point of branding, after all.
We all need to buy pants and shirts from time to time, which we eventually buy from somewhere, whether it’s Lululemon or Sears. What branders are concerned with is not that you simply buy a shirt but that the shirt reflects your lifestyle, and no one’s lifestyle is based on the healing properties of seaweed.
It’s regrettable that Lululemon advertised an unverified claim about their product. Truth in advertising the least we should expect in this advert saturated, consumerist world. Lulu should have contracted an outside lab to experiment and verify the claims they made about their product, and if it turns out that they have lied, they should apologize to their customers and their seaweed-stained hides.
But this pseudo-scandal won’t fundamentally alter what people buy from Lulu. Consumers will continue to clamor for their clothes as long as the company successfully links the garments to trendy lifestyles, and as long as fabulous rear ends remain in fashion.
