A Thread about how prêt-à-porter became Pret A Manger
What do fashion and sandwiches have in common?
When I worked in an office, everyone would buy food from Pret A Manger. The thing about Pret is that it was reliable, tasty and always there. A bit like fashion week. They say there are two certainties in life: death and taxes, but I think there might actually be four. Death, taxes, fashion week and Pret A Manger. I think those last two have a lot in common. And not just because the name was adapted from the French prêt-a-porter, meaning ‘ready to wear’ (although admittedly it began this train of thought.)
The feeling I have about fashion month is the one I used to get when I trudged from my office to Pret A Manger, picking up the usual egg mayo sandwich from a giant silver refrigerator, jostling with dozens of other suits as we all lined up to get our lunches. Sometimes I’d browse with a sense of curiosity, wondering if they’d added anything new to the menu. Perhaps a seasonal special, or the revival of an old favourite?
The monopoly of the chain echoes many of the behaviours we’re seeing in the industry right now. Times are tough, and it’s the big brands who have the money to stand out and capture our attention. Still, they’re also feeling nervous, and therefore leaning heavily into the tried and tested recipes guaranteed to be grabbed off the shelves by hungry consumers.
These recipes are usually a riff on familiar favourites, frequently designed to give a hint of international flavour, whilst remaining suitably appetising for all. A simple jambon beurre is a simulacrum of French taste, designed to profit off its Frenchness in the same way a French luxury brand might lean into its house codes, offering consumers the taste of pre-packaged Parisienne. Those looking for a dose of British charm might pick up a cheese ploughmans, the same appetising imitation of working class culture often borrowed by many British fashion brands (a case in point: at Pret they don’t call it a cheese ploughmans, instead it’s a ‘Posh Cheddar & Pickle Baguette’).
Pret has made itself synonymous with healthy, wholesome eating, just as brands make themselves symbols of certain codes or values. Rather than going shopping to look for something new, you shop to purchase signifiers of the person you think you are. I buy a specific brand because I feel like it tells me a story that’s aligned with myself, just as I buy Pret’s chocolate-coated corn cakes under the guise of a healthy sweet treat. Really, it’s often artifice. The the corn cakes are basically just sugar and milk fat layered on some puffy corn air (no diss - they’re delicious), but because they’re stamped with Pret’s branding, for me they exist in the same world as the more nutritionally dense ‘made right here’ salads.
Just like eating, shopping is both emotional and practical. We clothe ourselves to avoid being naked, just as we eat so we don’t starve. But everything layered on top of that is a complex web of signifiers, symbols and stories. An open sandwich of our emotional and cultural state.
The thing about the office work day is that you’re often stressed and time poor. Running out for food is an exercise in easy gratification - you want something that’s nearby, sustaining and doesn’t require too much thinking. Within close radius of my central London office, there were five Prets. I could blindly satisfy my hunger in barely a few paces. Sure, I knew there were other, more original offerings elsewhere, but the ubiquity of Pret’s shops and the familiarity of their menu meant that it felt like a safe purchase that would meet my needs in an efficient and (relatively) cost-effective way.
I feel like that’s how many fashion shoppers are consuming now. The wobbly economy means that most have less money to spend, and therefore spend it more cautiously with brands they know and trust. They’re favouring brands that feel familiar - the seasonal shows and subsequent buzz offer just enough variety as the odd new menu item at Pret, without veering too far away from their hero staples.
In terms of cost effectiveness, fashion has become extremely expensive, so there’s less of a comparison there (although customers were outraged by the hike in price of the aforementioned Posh Cheddar & Pickle Baguette). But I’d argue that people are leaning towards established brands for the same reassurance as when buying a Pret meal: a sense of understanding what you’re getting for your money. The booming resale market proves that spending on these labels is a reliable investment, and there’s quality control associated with a household name. At Pret, you know how it will taste, how many calories it has, what the allergens are and how long it will keep you full for. There are fewer surprises.
In terms of seasonality/ fashion month, the offering is not a bold overhaul of the menu full of new and risky ideas, but instead the cautious introduction of one or two new ones which won’t rock the boat or confuse a loyal audience with a seismic vibe shift. We welcome some adjustments to the recipe, but the basic formula remains the same. That festive turkey and cranberry sandwich still comes nestled between two slices of bread, like a classic silhouette released in a new colourway or print.
Altogether the experience of fashion week and my experience of lunching at Pret are charged with the same corporate energy. What we see is a runway full of shiny clothes, a fridge full of appetising meals, engineered to make our mouths water and our wallets open.
This might sound like a condemnation of big brands - both Pret and those in fashion. It’s not supposed to be. I’m simply observing that a balanced diet is one which includes more than just the same names on every street, with everything cooked in the same kitchen according to the same market-proofed recipes.
I guess the most simple refusal is to make your own clothes/ lunch, per fashion writer Charlie Porter, who now sews almost all his own garments. But most of us don’t have the time, patience or expertise for that. As a middle ground, we might switch it up a few times a week. Shop at a small designer, or buy lunch from a market stall or local haunt nearby. Consume in a slow, conscious way, and nourish our tastes with a variety of flavours.
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Loose Threads
I interviewed Cate Blanchett for Vogue China’s new issue. The accompanying shoot is incredible. Margaret Zhang, the departing EIC, will be sorely missed. (You can listen to her on the Threads of Conversation podcast here!)
Cory Arcangel is the artist behind Phoebe Philo’s stripes, and her offbeat metadescriptions. Guys, I called it.
Yesterday, my comedian brother Ivo Graham ran the London marathon whilst pushing his friend, fellow comedian and Cerebal Palsy advocate Rosie Jones, in a wheelchair. Earlier this year, both were joined for a half marathon by my younger brother, Ludo, who pushed my mum in her wheelchair. For Ludo, this was one portion of the 100 miles of running he’s doing this year (including 2 marathons) to raise money for the MS Society, which is the condition that affects our mum. You can read more and sponsor Ludo, Ivo and Rosie at the links!
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Great essay, glad it made it out! Also love the interview with Cate Blanchett, I’m obseeeeessed with how the photo shoot for it came out!!
I genuinely love the way you wrote this! The way you seamlessly incorporated food analogies with your points was genuinely a chef's kiss. Perfection! I can't wait to read more from you!