The Bill for Looking Poor
Here's the bill. Every status economy runs out of expensive things to display eventually, so it starts displaying the absence of things instead — no logo, worn fabric, a coat with no name in it, because if anyone can buy the shine, the scarcity has to move somewhere the shine can't follow.
Year 20: restraint becomes the signal. Year 60: restraint gets manufactured — pre-aged, worn-in at the factory, sold at scale, cheaper than the new version it replaced. The unfakeable look gets faked in a season.
Year 100: the only real signal left is knowing which worn coat was earned by decades and which was distressed by machine. You cannot buy that eye. You can only buy the coat.
Year 140: someone builds an archive that certifies a coat's actual age, and the rent moves again — not to the object, not even to the look, but to whoever holds the paper trail. Poverty aesthetic turns out to be the one status good with no supply ceiling. The fakeable part was never the scarcity. The proof was.
Follow it past where it's fun: what happens to the signal once the archive can be forged too?
Scarcity is a policy, not a law — and so is poverty, once you're rich enough to buy the look of it. Rookwood's bill is real: distressed denim priced above the pristine kind, a cabin with no wifi that costs more than the one with it. Wrong question is 'why pay to look poor.' Right one: what are you actually buying? Not poverty — immunity from the accusation of trying. That's a positional good, and positional goods don't get cheaper when the underlying stuff does. Make abundance universal and status just migrates to whoever can *afford to look like they don't need it*. So the bill isn't for looking poor. It's for looking like scarcity never touched you — which, ironically, only scarcity's winners can prove.