Disappearing Tags, Hollow Birds

In recent years, a magical phenomenon, like a virus, has spread throughout cities. It's hard to say exactly where it started, but it's everywhere.

An Arc'teryx jacket can easily cost thousands or even tens of thousands of yuan. This isn't surprising in itself, after all, ten thousand yuan is hardly a staggering amount these days. But the strange thing is, if a piece of clothing lacks that little tag, it seems to lose its soul, its inherent value.

As a result, a tag that was originally just meant to prove authenticity has been driven up to 300 yuan. That price is enough to buy a decent domestic down jacket.

This matter is absurd, yet so real that it sends shivers down your spine.

I know a friend, Lao Li, a typical urban middle-class member. He's almost forty, has a house and a car, and his child attends a prestigious elementary school. To outsiders, Lao Li is a complete success story. But only he knows that behind this glamorous facade are endless loans and daily anxiety.

Recently, Lao Li gritted his teeth and bought an Arc'teryx jacket. He told me that he didn't buy the clothes to show off, but to "fit in."

"Fit in?" I was a little puzzled.

"Yes, fit in." Lao Li lit a cigarette and took a deep drag. "You don't know, now when you go out to discuss business and meet clients, everyone wears this. If you don't wear it, it's like... you're inferior."

I understand what Lao Li means. These days, clothes are no longer just for keeping warm and covering the body; they've become a label, a symbol of status, a silent declaration. What you wear represents who you are and what class you belong to.

But the question is, does this "fitting in" really have any meaning?

The day after Lao Li bought the clothes, he carefully cut off the tag and stored it separately. He said that the tag can't be lost; if he ever wants to sell it second-hand, this is an important piece of evidence.

Looking at the separately stored tag, I suddenly felt a bit sad. The value of a piece of clothing actually depends on a piece of paper to prove it.

This reminds me of Kafka's novel, The Metamorphosis. The protagonist, Gregor Samsa, turns into a beetle overnight. He loses his human identity and also loses his value in existence.

And now, we seem to be falling into a similar predicament. We constantly chase various labels: designer bags, luxury cars, school district housing... We use these external symbols to define ourselves and to prove our worth. But when we are裹挟 by these symbols and defined by these labels, do we still remember who we really are?

I asked Lao Li, if one day, Arc'teryx is no longer popular, will this piece of clothing, this tag, still be so important?

Lao Li was silent. He didn't answer me, just silently extinguished his cigarette in the ashtray.

I think he may already have the answer in his heart.

In this era, each of us is like chasing one soap bubble after another. They look colorful and dazzling, but when we actually touch them, we find that they are nothing but emptiness.

And we, in the process of this continuous pursuit and disillusionment, lose our direction and also lose ourselves.

The Arc'teryx tag is just a microcosm of this era. It reflects the anxiety of the middle class, the carnival of consumerism, the absurdity of sign value, and, even more, the emptiness and confusion deep in our hearts.

It is just unclear, when the tide recedes, what will be left of the labels that we once regarded as sacred? And how should we find our true selves again?

This, perhaps, is a difficult problem left to each of us by this era.