Therapy Sweatshirts: a case study of our watered-down emotional lives
Why are we so quick to commodify human connection? I’m asking this in light of something that has been weighing on my thoughts for a while. I’ll give you a hint as to what I’m referring to: “Mental health matters,” “you’re doing just fine,” “dear person behind me…” Did you guess it? That’s right; I’m talking about the well-being crusade of the mental-support sweatshirts that seem to have a firm grasp on the graphics of today’s garments. Words or phrases printed on garments are nothing new or revolutionary—fashion giant Off-White’s ironic quotations being an example—but it has taken a turn away from commentary in this form to speak more as a tool for betterment, a mental health handout, a sweatshirt-the-savior if you will. I think their ‘mission’ is complete BS.
You might be asking yourself why I insist on having such a strong opinion on silly printed sweatshirts. Well, I think they’re evocative not just of the interesting fixation of the fashion world on mass-produced whimsical sweatshirts, but also of the tendency of my generation—Gen Z—to go no further than hollow gestures of mental-heath awareness to prove their emotional intelligence and sympathy for others. I think we have been naturalized to curate a lifestyle of mindfulness aesthetically, not practically. The following example will make my reasoning more clear:
When I was sixteen-year-old I bought a sweatshirt of a similar character. In retrospect, I realize that these were the reasons for my purchase:
I thought it was trendy (I found it from an Instagram ad).
The pop of green in the sweatshirt matched the green in my favorite pair of shoes.
Upon reflection, I bought it with the intention of virtue-signaling.
The first of these is reason enough to be skeptical. My young self was not motivated by social betterment, but social clout. That list is a testament to the fact that most who buy these garments are not the emotionally intelligent saints they appear to be. This is not to villanize the sixteen-year-olds but to question the dissonance behind the image and the intent. In a world with so much noise, is it productive to add more in the form of short, reductive statements emblazoned on our backs?
In her book titled all about love, bell hooks quotes Diane Ackerman’s thoughts on society’s elusive construction of love. Ackerman posits that:
“…everyone admits that love is wonderful and necessary, yet no one can agree on what it is.” Coyly, she adds: “We use the word love in such a sloppy way that it can mean almost nothing or absolutely everything.”
Though parceling through the ambiguity of ‘love’ requires another essay’s worth of thoughts, these quotes get to exactly what I’m trying to say here about “mental health awareness.” These phrases are sloppy, reductive, and obscure what it means to be sympathetic to another person. Imbuing your community with an open dialogue about mental health is important, but the overuse of catchy phrases and aesthetically pleasing gestures of care causes this dialogue to be weightless. It is no longer a signifier of solidarity. It is a signifier of trend.
What I’m saying is that gestures and displays of awareness have become the norm. I fear this is encouraging a culture in which, put simply, we can talk the talk but cannot walk the walk. The ‘walk’ I’m referring to is the action of engaging in educated, patient conversation about our emotional needs and therefore communal support for the importance of recognizing the mental issue in all of us. Buy the sweatshirt, then take the conversation off your back and into the world. That is all I ask.
