P. Diddy is being accused of using sweatshops in Honduras to produce clothing for his Sean John line. That sucks for so many different reasons. First of all, I must say, I love that Sean Combs. Everybody seems to seek him out for complaint, blaming him for the fall of hip hop to the return of fur. I think that Puff has always been impressive, a shapeshifter to the highest order, talented in unlikely and numerous ways, responsible for the popularity of conspicuous consumption to the point of the grotesque, ringing in an age of opulence for the masses, as we live out our fantasies of private jets flown by big booty hos taking us to a Byzantine baroque menagerie of supermodels and supermoguls, where the money and the champagne never runs out, offering up a moment of release from the tedium of day to day life.
If the allegations that Puff is guilty of violating the worker’s rights are true, then it is also likely that he had no idea, as fashion, like just about everything else, is a rough trade and there has to be some plane of indifference that one must maintain in order to find the sources of wealth and power that don’t come as easily in a world that tends to hoard its riches. This blindness often occurs in the oddest, most ironic situations.
Rap stars are among the highest earning stars in the world and they spend a lot of money and time on displaying that wealth. Diamonds are both their best friend, the exclamation point at the end of the dollar amount, and the silent oppressor, as the gem industry is notoriously unscrupulous with the way they do business. Diamond mines in Africa are the harshest environments of all for workers, with substandard conditions, meager pay and constant violations of both labor and human rights. Does this mean that diamonds should not be worn or valued? I don’t know. I just wonder if anyone thinks their purchases out so clearly, with such an eye on the origins of the product. I certainly don’t. Unless there is an out and out boycott of a said product, a picket line I must deliberately cross, such as the one outside of Von’s near my home, I wouldn’t know, nor would I even pretend to investigate. That is terribly selfish of me, but it is also the truth and I don’t think that it helps anyone to think that we are not selfish creatures. Selfishness is by nature a human and mortal trait. I am the only one in me, so isn’t it realistic and true to say that if I am not thinking about others, it is because of that? Being the only one at home is a good thing because you don’t want to share your body with others, at least not all the time. That would be weird. At the same time, we are supposed to uphold a code of ethics decided upon by who we are in relation to everyone else, which includes who we are not, who we would hope to be, who we are glad not to be, who we fear becoming, who we don’t know.
It would be difficult to be P. Diddy. He has more bank than anyone could ever want, power like a motherfucker, is on the a-list of all a-lists for all time, but it has to be hard to be him. Is this allegation of abusing Honduran workers quicker because he himself is Black? Do we tend to accuse people of color of being oppressors more readily because they should “know better?” How is that fair? Is it worse to be a turncoat than a colonizer? Isn’t that as racist as anything that we might assume about ourselves in relation to those in the dominant culture? Does the self hatred come full circle in the constant drama of the self made? Thinking about race is very time consuming and harrowing, as we don’t want to offend anyone outside our own realm of experience, nor do we want to ignore or invalidate the experience of being ourselves. Must we always oppress others in order to eye the prize for ourselves? I perhaps do not understand money well enough to answer any of these questions, but I believe that I should understand race enough, and the sad thing is that I don’t. In the end, I say that I would probably come out in support of Puff, because I really like that song “Special Delivery,” but is that enough?