THE ECCO PROJECT
JORDAN'S FOUR PLEASURES MODEL
JORDAN'S FOUR PLEASURES MODEL
In the project, we have perceived these 'pleasures' as a way of distinguishing between active and passive shoes, seeing that the more all the levels of pleasure are represented in a given pair of shoes, the more they are treasured, or as Jordan would say,
'appreciated': they have become favourites. In our following analysis, we have worked with our participants as 'personae' figures, each representing a segment of consumers with various emphasis on psychological, physical, social or ideological levels of
attachment, as has been proposed by Jordan. Throughout the course of the entire project, Jordan's distinctions helped us to share our dialogue, even if we were both biased by our respective experiences and knowledge from academia and design practice. As a dialogic tool, the book helped to increase our awareness about the interaction between participants and design objects, and to identify the various parameters.
physio-‐pleasure: having 'to do with the body;
sensory organs' psycho-‐pleasure: 'people's cognitive and emotional reactions' (about usability)
socio-‐pleasure: 'enjoyment derived from relationships with others'
ideo-‐pleasure: 'people's aesthetics; values that correlate with people's ideas about
society/themselves If all these 'pleasures' are
represented in a design object, it achieves a 'level
of appreciation'
My choice was ethnographer Tim Ingold's short text, "Culture on the Ground. The World Perceived Through the Feet" (2004), similarly worked to raise our awareness of bodily aspects of dressing. Throughout the text, Ingold argues that the 'civilised' West has split our bodies in two. Above the waist is our 'civilised' part, with our mind, our eyes and our hands: all that allegedly separates us from the animals. Below is what transports our physical bodies in the physical world. He describes how in the travelling letters of the cultural elite of early modernity, the world is described as passing by them as a 'groundless culture' consisting only of visual and spiritual sensations. Walking, and touching the ground, is for 'the poor, the criminal, the young, and above all, the ignorant' (Ingold 2004:322). He similarly displays how Western shoe design has maltreated and deformed our feet, as a direct consequence of our disengagement with the physical world around us, and our wish to tame all that has to do with nature. As can be seen in much of his work, Ingold tries to re-‐assemble a dominant, Cartesian split between body and mind in the West, by displaying how we, as human, are indeed not only dependent on but also part of nature. He believes that we 'perceive not with the eyes, the ears or the surface of the skin, but with the whole body', and that we experience within the physical world, not upon it (2004:330). In this way, Ingold diverts from a Miller'ian definition of material culture (Miller 2007), which Ingold accuses of being utilitarian, hedonistic and 'blinded' by the idea that our interaction with man-‐made artefacts is detached from nature (Ingold 2007:33). Rather conversely, Ingold states, we need to re-‐
embed our practices in nature and in our bodies, in order to achieve a more responsible, holistic, and balanced interaction with design objects. Thus, to be physically and
ecologically embedded in the world means, in Ingold's perspective, to emphasise not only what design objects look like, but also what they feel like.
Following this mode of thought worked to constantly emphasise bodily aspects of dressing in the project, which indeed focused on whole body experiences. We used this approach to locate experiences of dressing that would stem not only from the respective senses of smell, touch, hearing and taste, but from the ‘whole body’ experiences of standing and walking with various shoes in the collections. This approach framed how bodily poses, gestures and movements become manipulated and determined through footwear, and thereby affect our dress practices. We resolved to be very aware of bodily or sensory aspects in the interview situation, just as we would emphasise these aspects in our analysis. As dialogic tools between research and practice, these texts divert from what is used in many design research project in the area of user-‐centred design. Insofar
as many of these studies make use of prototypes and other types of design material like fabric samples (as can be seen in, for example, Halse et al. (eds.) 2010 and Bang 2011), this project is coloured by the fact that I am not a trained designer. Since I was put in charge of the outcome (the academic text), and since I had to produce it (write it), I decided that we would use text as a shared tool.
Sessions, with two eyes
Because of the respective biases of Graabæk and myself, there were a few more
adjustments to be made in terms of method. We divided our roles during the interview so that I would have the movie camera and be the interviewer, while Graabæk would take pictures of design details with her camera. In this way, I would be able to pursue my research objectives while Graabæk would be able to look more closely into the collections. This meant that after the sessions, we would have photos in high-‐resolution that she could work with in detail, as opposed to the low-‐resolution ‘screen shots’ from the film footage of my prior projects. Graabæk would take pictures of the various clusters, of the way our participants interacted with their shoes during the interview, and of single shoes and details.
Graabæk insisted that after the sessions, she would have to take pictures of each pair of shoes on a white background, in order to reduce visual 'noise'. For this, she brought along some white paper, or she borrowed a white sheet, upon which she placed each pair of shoes. Already here, she actually became my fifth informant in the project, since I wanted to understand why she needed to reduce the background. For me, as a
researcher, I find the background 'noise' extremely interesting. Because I regarded her concerns as a way to understand her biases as a designer, I asked her if she would be willing to send me written documents about her on-‐going process. I would also be talking with her about these issues with her in e-‐mails, and on the phone when we had a chance to talk, and I further asked her to keep a log book throughout the whole project.
This material helped me to understand how she saw the differences between working 'as usually', and working with me in the wardrobes.
In this way, the ECCO project runs on two parallel tracks: one track where I continue my research on users and their daily selection of dress, and another track where I study
Graabæk, and form dialogues with her as we go along. This process demanded a high level of attentiveness from both of us, as we did not have the same bias when we were observing and analysing. Hence, I have tried to turn our different gazes into a strength of the project, rather than a drawback, through making our differences explicit throughout my revisions, summations, and analysis.
Summation of method
The project started out with two shared readings of literature. This was done in order to coordinate our framework, to match our expectations, and to establish a shared
understanding of what we yearned to have emphasised in the project.
The sample of this project diverted slightly from the previous ones, especially since we were interviewing two men and two women. However, they all represented the same age group, and the same societal group as the informants in the previous projects. They were again selected on the premises of accessibility, which means to say that they belonged to our personal network and/or facebook network.
The reason for including women in the project was mostly the special character of the project: it was a collaborative project; and it was funded independently of my PhD-‐
funding – hence, I could not decide on my own who to interview. It was a wish expressed by both Graabæk, and the head of the Product Department at Design School Kolding, Mathilde Aggebo, that we would include women in the study. However, I have tried to turn this to advantage, since I could make use of the two women as an -‐ admittedly very small -‐ test group for my findings, and my analysis.
Each interview-‐session lasted 1-‐3 hours. This variation in timespan was mainly due to the fact that some of the informants had more shoes than others. Each session would run along two parallel tracks. I would ask the questions and hold the camera, while Graabæk would take photos of details, shapes, categories, or moments in the interviews that she found particularly interesting. Every interview would start out with me asking the informant to place the entire collection before us, beginning with the oldest shoe in the collection, and ending up with the latest purchase. In this way, these interviews differed from my previous ones, because they were not necessarily conducted inside the
actual space of of the wardrobe. The important objective was to see the whole shoe collection, and the physical setting of the homes of the informants. Because shoe
collections are far less space-‐consuming than entire wardrobes, it also became easier to apply the wardrobe biography, since the entire span of the collection could be showed visually, by simply placing the shoes in the order of purchase.
While the informants were doing this, they were encouraged to tell us about their shoes.
After this, I would ask them to place some shoes in categories that I found were particularly interesting. This might happen if a feature, such as a certain shape, colour, or material re-‐occurred many times in the collection. As the interview went along, more and more themes like these would emerge that seemed to guide the preferences of the participants, so that it became possible to get into a more detailed discussion. When I found that the same theme would re-‐emerge in several discussions as the session proceeded, I would also try to understand as many aspects as possible, through categorising the collection in various orders, and through asking laddered questions.
One category that would occur in every interview was passive shoes -‐ or shopping mistakes, since this category appeared to represent various parameters concerning comfort/discomfort, and ideas of past, present and future selves, which for one reason or another did not fit into the informants’ day-‐to-‐day reality. Each session would wind up with a request for any final remarks. After the interview formally ended, Graabæk would take photographs of all the shoes in the collection on a white background. For this, she brought along with her a sheet or pieces of paper (see fig. 1).
Fig 1: Method design for the wardrobe sessions of all four informants, adjusted slightly from the method in
part 1+2 to include Graabæk's point of view.
Wardrobe biography +
clustering
Documentation of design details
Wardrobe session as
"shared, open moment"
Fig. 2: Method design for the research process; whereas the first four elements were shared or conducted in parallel with shared discussions, the fifth element was done by me alone.
THE USE OF SHOES
Pia
Pia owns 40 pairs of shoes. She is 52 years old, and lives in a village in Jutland with her husband and three teenage kids. She works as a midwife consultant. When we arrive at her house, she is busy bringing in shoes from various places in her home into the open kitchen-‐dining area. She has stored some of her shoes in the hallway, some in her
wardrobe in the shared bedroom, and some in the basement and a shed in the garden. In this way, she is hoping to prevent her husband from knowing how many shoes she really owns.
Pia's shoe collection, positioned according to a biographical timeline.
As she is displaying her shoes on the floor in a biographically determined sequence, she tells us a little about every one of the pairs, such as time of purchase, details she likes,
and particular events that she used them for. Looking at the whole collection, there are certain characteristic features that can be spotted right from the start. For one, she really has a lot of shoes, and many of them look rather expensive. Second, she owns quite a few brown leather boots.
When she talks about her shoes, she often mentions brands’ names, or names of the more exclusive boutiques in Copenhagen and Aarhus, where she has bought the shoes.
She also emphasises how she only wants the best quality. When she has finished displaying her shoes, I ask her to look at all her shoes and comment on them, and she says:
I think I have what I need in terms of dressy shoes. I never really used them. It has mostly been boots, and these kinds of rough-‐looking, sturdy boots, you know?
I find this to be quite striking, because the balance between the boots and the dressy shoes actually appears to be rather even, when one looks at the collection all together.
Therefore, I want to know more about her more passive shoes, or ‘shopping mistakes’, and I ask her to collect these kinds of shoes and comment on why they are more or less out of use.
Shopping mistakes
As it comes to light, there are more reasons why she does not use parts of her collection, aside from the shoes that she feels are simply uncomfortable to wear. For one, she has quite contradictory feelings about the more decidedly feminine shoes and boots.
Pia's passive shoes. A characteristic feature of this category is the feminine character of the design: the two pairs of high-‐heeled boots are too high, and the leather is too soft and thin. They are not 'rough and raw' as are her favourite boots. She purchased these pairs when she started her business and wanted something presentable and nice to wear at receptions and meetings. The brown Prada sandals (below, right) have the right colour, and the beloved plateau heel that makes them comfortable to wear, but the braided straps are too thin and too ‘sweet’.
As she explains when we start to talk about her black, long-‐legged black boots, with the small heels, she believes that they look good on other people, but they don’t feel quite right on her. She bought the two brown pairs, and the black pair, in the same period. She explains how she thought, at the time of purchase, that:
Because of my age, then one ought to have a pair of black boots, right? A pair that I like but won't be using that much. It’s not quite the right style, but I really like them. Particularly on other people.
With regard to the greenish boots of the Freye brand that can be seen at the top right in the photo, she explains that they are doublets of one of her favourite pairs, the yellowish pair that she has used a lot. She also tells me that buying the greenish boots was a
‘shopping mistake’, typical of one she often makes. When she finds something she likes, she wants it in another colour as well. This has worked effectively with her All Star Converse boots, of which she has had many, in many colours, and with her Birkenstock sandals, of which she also had quite a few. But in some cases, this strategy simply hasn't worked out, since she consistently finds the doublets to be 'too boring' or in a 'boring colour'.
Pia's Freye boots: the ones she has used a lot (on the left), and the passive doublets (to the right), where the colour is wrong
This is where it worked out -‐ she currently owns two pairs of Birkenstock sandals in bright yellow and green, and she has had more pairs. She even found a pair of green Marc Jacobs slippers that have something of the same qualities, but then they also have the exclusiveness of the brand. However, it was these shoes that gave her heel spur, when she was wearing them on a summer holiday in France. As a result, now she can rarely wear high heels or hard soles at all.
"Every woman should have a pair of sexy, red stilettos"
There are a great many of her more feminine shoes that are not in use as well. When I ask about this, what comes to light is that a main reason for this is that she never learned to walk in high heels when she was younger, because she was much more into the sturdy leather boots. Therefore, she prefers the plateau heel to a stiletto, because it supports her better. As we go through the many passive shoes, she explains how she has always had trouble with feminine shoes. And it seems that this is not only because of matters of comfort. She shows me her wedding shoes, which she has re-‐coloured black from their original white, because she found them to be too pretty and too 'sweet', which is why she has rarely worn them.
Passive shoes from Pia's youth: a pair of pink slippers; her wedding shoes, which she coloured black to make them look less "sweet"; and a pair of beige sling-‐backs with a leopard pattern print. As can be noticed in the case of the pink slippers, Pia's attraction to glossy surfaces started early on. Her temper and her passionate personality are also showing through in the leopard print, inasmuch as it reflects her idea about being sexy. However, since they are not sufficiently robust and sturdy in the design, she cannot wear them.
They do not feel right.
I also notice how three of her passive, feminine shoes are red. Since she seems to complement her more neutrally coloured shoes with sparkly colours, this doesn’t surprise me. But it does surprise me that she is not using these shoes, since they have been quite expensive for her to buy. When I ask about this, her answer sounds quite contradictory, but some of the reasoning seems to be connected with her ideas about ageing:
This shoe, I wish I could wear. But then I think to myself: ‘No, Pia,’ if it was 20 years ago, it might work. But then you are bound to make some shopping mistakes because as you get older, and when you’re out shopping, you think that you have another age than you really have.
Pia's red stilettos, with different colours on the soles, a designer detail that she is very fond of. This makes the shoes special to her. The surface is glossy, and she is attracted to the colour red, but never uses the shoes. In fact, she never uses any of her red ‘feminine’ shoes.
There are more things at play here, when it comes to why she is not wearing her red
There are more things at play here, when it comes to why she is not wearing her red