After celebrating a very merry Christmas with my nuclear and extended family, it was time to capitalize on post-Christmas sales. While my mom and dad patronized Fendi, R.M. Williams, and other fancy firms, I sought out J. Crew, Banana Republic, and Uniqlo.
A brief aside:
When my parents were purchasing my clothing during childhood and high school, I paid no regard to brand, price, or sales. Funnily enough, now that I am paying for my own outfits, I pay quite close attention to these three factors. I’m certainly more of an economist now that I’m spending (and saving) my own money—go figure!
Digression over.
Back to the meat and potatoes of this blog post: Uniqlo is superior to J. Crew and Banana Republic.
For context, I had visited Saks Fifth Avenue with my girlfriend the week prior. Here, I suffered extreme sticker shock examining the price tags of European-sounding brands I had never heard of, and other brands whose prices I assumed would leave me flabbergasted. They did. I knew that it would be irresponsible for me to shop at Saks, even with their sales, so I put the ixnay on them from the get-go and refined my search to the three aforementioned firms.
After receiving “mad money”—borrowing from my dad’s lexicon—from my generous family members on the 25th, I was ready to go out and do some damage. At least, I thought I was. “Damage” was supposed to mean purchasing a pair of olive or chocolate corduroy pants. J. Crew was selling them for well over $100 and there was no sale in sight. Bummer. Banana Republic was selling them for about $100—still too rich for my blood. Uniqlo, you’re my only hope!
Both J. Crew and Banana Republic are American firms and, literally all else being equal, it would appear my revealed preference is to buy from them. However, all else was decidedly not equal; I, subjectively, find Uniqlo’s dizzying array of offerings to be at least as visually appealing while (objectively) offering prices about one fourth those of its competitors. Even if J. Crew and Banana Republic did fit within my budget constraint, the additional surplus I derive from their products pales in comparison to the additional cost.
Thankfully, tariffs have not been imposed on my belovéd imported Japanese clothes. Doing so would artificially increase Uniqlo’s prices and might incentivize me to waste loads of money on American substitutes. Conceivably, domestic manufacturers might not benefit at the consumers’ expense; many clothes-buyers—myself included—have highly elastic demand for new clothes (clothes being a durable good for adults) and would simply hold on to their hard-earned money if prices climbed even marginally.
My ability to purchase two pairs of winter pants, long johns, and a turtle neck for the price of one pair of corduroys from American firms is nothing short of a Christmas miracle. Long live free trade!