In this guest blog series, Savage Minds has provided me with a space to untangle and unpack some of my recent thoughts on anthropologists, hipsters and such. My first post focused on defining terms, and my second post drew parallels between hipsters and anthropologists in terms of their position at the margins. In it, I wondered what the implications were for producing an anthropologist who could be a celebrity or public intellectual. In this third post, I want to take a brief moment point to what we wear and the images we cultivate.

The Embodied Styles of Anthropologists

For reasons which will become clear, this post about embodied styles will be a somewhat short one. I considered leaving it out entirely, but the cacophony of voices, the blaze of students, the horn-rimmed glasses, the landscape of mac products, the sea of Starbucks coffee cups and the snippets of obscure and esoteric conversations overheard in passing at the annual meeting of the American Anthropological Association are too dear to my heart to abandon entirely.

Upon first attending the national conference as an anthropologist-in-the-making, it was comforting that at times, the celebrity academic was indistinguishable from anyone I might sit next to on a bus, but it was also startling when the name tag came pinned to the lapel of a flamboyant and/or uniquely styled figure. I continue to appreciate the embodied statements anthropologists make about themselves, whether it be through corduroy jackets and thick, but manicured beards, or pashminas and intricate jewelry. I’ve found anecdotally that anthropologists are willing to share more of their individuality and sense of self in their embodied selves, whether it is at a conference or on campus. It also signaled to me that, while broadly inclusive, the category of anthropologist was visibly and stylistically marked in ways that reflected disposition, fieldwork, and disciplinary training. Part of learning to be an anthropologist is about learning how to sound like one in one’s writing, but it is also how to look like one in appearance. Clearly, the hipster is likewise marked by and affiliated with particular styles of clothing, hair and brands.

As I suggested in my first post, embodied styles are mediated by the capitalist world we live in – what we purchase and the brands with which we affiliate have become deeply entwined with the roles we inhabit. Like hipsters, we often consider our look to be a statement about ourselves and the world around us. Like hipsters, anthropologists are often proud of their refusal to participate in the mainstream (see the second post). Others, however, have made more sophisticated observations than I.

Carole McGranahan (with Kate Fischer, Rachel Fleming, Willi Lempert, and Marnie Thomson) wrote a brilliantly enjoyable and cathartic reflection on ‘Conference Chic’ for Savage Minds, which has far more to offer on the topic than I. A more recent series has been examining clothing in the field with a more practical bent,  which suggests that plenty of others are thinking about these matters.

The Intellectual, Anti-Mainstream Brand

The relevant reflection here, however, lies in thinking about the production of ourselves as academics. Although we wouldn’t articulate it quite this way, anyone in the competitive academic marketplace knows that scholarly expertise and knowledge is part of what the university is selling, and it is packaged in brochures and on websites – and this may include our style and image. And style and image are part of our brand.¹ Although this has always been an issue (think Michael Foucault), with the rise of TED talks and other “rock star,” celebrity scholars drawing crowds in MOOCs these embodied styles become a recognizable part of brand, and can be leveraged for obtaining jobs, book contracts and success. There are celebrity academics who are immediately recognizable from a distance, and who have cultivated an image that both aligns with and furthers their academic image. This is not to say that such scholars are not producing intellectually rich work, it is just to point out that these embodied ways of being in the world are deployed (consciously or not) in the pursuit of careers (which is also highlighted in the other Savage Minds posts).

I invite here other reflections on how academics (and anthropologists in particular) position themselves by cultivating a particular image or brand, of which embodied style is a part. In an era of the nearly complete corporatization of the university, how does one succeed in academia without commodifying one’s own knowledge, self and image? For practicing anthropologists, one must actively do the same for non-anthropological audiences to obtain contracts, communicate with clients, funders, etc.  And of course, as we are more than just a discipline, it is also important to note how decisions about style also intersect with other positions from gendered, raced and classed ones to endless variations of sci-fi geek, hipster, preppie, cosmopolitan, etc.

Other posts in the series:

• Part I: What is a Hipster?
• Part II: Critiques from the Margins
• Part IV: Authenticity and Privilege
• Part V: Why do they Hate Us?