09/10/08
Text: Andrew Z. Williams
Photographers: Scott Schuman
Grandiose though it may sound, one might just call blogger and photographer Scott Schuman a fashion populist. Anthem recently spoke with Mr. Schuman while he waited to get his hair cut in preparation for New York Fashion Week.
Schuman, better known to the fashion world and his hordes of daily readers as The Sartorialist, has seen his blog hobby become a full time job—and more than that, a project of historical proportions. The idea is fairly simple: stalk the streets of New York (or Paris/Milan/London/Stockholm/anywhere) with a camera, and document the particular accoutrement and ensemble of the city’s denizens. Then, post the best (read: most intriguing) of the photos online (in this case, at thesartorialist.blogspot.com), and let people comment on the photos. The result has become an internationally followed phenomenon, and has brought Schuman and his work to the pages of Vogue, Esquire, GQ, and Style.com.
Schuman’s project is a quintessential example of the Internet at its most democratic. The site showcases everyone from students to superstars—here, Karl Lagerfeld rubs shoulders with dog walkers. Schuman remarks that his criteria for picking subjects are "not too specific," and that, really, he is often guided by instinct. Schuman also displays a learned sartorial eye—he often remarks on details like the length of a sleeve, or the color of a sock—but this combination of innate fashion sense and studied design sense is never employed in harsh critique. "I don’t tell people the way they should be," says Schuman. "I try to be sympathetic when I shoot [people]." Schuman speaks excitedly of the conflict that he can see inside some of his subjects, an uncertainty that manifests itself externally in the subject's clothing choices. That conflict is illustrated in the push-and-pull between wanting to be noticed (i.e. assembling an original or impeccable outfit) and insecurity, a reluctance to submit to Schuman’s documentation. "Conflict makes it interesting," says Schuman.
The self-effacing and pensive Schuman has a very pure and singular subject in mind with The Sartorialist: history. When asked what the end-point of the website might be, or what drives him to continue its incessant documentation, Schuman speaks of the website as a historical document—his candid street portraits have been compared to August Sander, the German photographer who set out to document the entirety of German culture, from top to bottom, starting at the turn of the 20th century and ending somewhere after the second World War. Sanders' photographs, row upon row of unflinching portrait, tell a long and complex story of German society—and by extension, human society as a whole is illustrated, from farmers to artists to the bourgeoisie. Schuman, of course, doesn’t claim for the blog—or necessarily reach with it—quite that depth of documentation or purpose, but he is doubtlessly following in some of Sanders’ footsteps. At the very least, there are glimpses of our society here: the penchant to innovate and recycle; to follow trends, and to buck them. And then there’s the society of the website itself, of course—populated by an endless stream of commentators, from regulars who write small treatises on each and every post to anonymous posters just eager to participate.
Indeed, Schuman is fascinated by this aspect of his project—something of which Sanders could have never dreamed: immediate reaction from and interaction with the public regarding his photographs. "I want to start an interesting conversation," Shuman says, and to do this, he has "consciously kept [The Sartorialist] small." The blog still exists on its Google-sponsored BlogSpot web address (despite the fact that it no doubt garners thousands or even tens-of-thousands of hits per day), and Schuman employs only one assistant, who helps him manage his schedule and sift through the hundreds of comments left on each post. This latter chore is important not only to weed out inappropriate or offensive comments, but to ensure that Schuman can continue to partake in those "interesting conversations"—whether they be debates on the pushing-up of men’s jacket sleeves, or more esoteric musings on trend, celebrity, or the cult of fashion.
Just like Sanders’ colossal undertaking, Schuman’s project has no foreseeable end. Instead, its timeline extends off into the distance, in lock-step with Schuman himself. "A job just perfect for me," he calls it. A job of interest, fun, and purpose? We should all be so lucky.
