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Bonfire of the Brands: How I Learnt to Live Without Labels
Book by NEIL BOORMAN
256 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 2006
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Displaying 1 - 17 of 17 reviews
June 28, 2012
As a sort of 21st century follow-up to Naomi Klein's 'No Logo' (which I've started a million times and enjoyed but for some reason never quite finished)(lazy and inevitable comparison btw, sry) 'Bonfire of the Brands' gives a running countdown of the lead-up to and aftermath of Neil Boorman burning and sledgehammering like 90% of his possessions -- his bid to escape the constant hum of the capitalist telescreens and consequent near mental collapse. I read it pretty much in one sitting (very unusual for me) and appreciated it at the time as a compelling read, but the more I think about this book the more I realise how good it really was and I want to talk about it because it seems odd that nobody else seems to be.
As someone who's been using the same piece of crap payg for four years and who hasn't consciously sought out a clothing capital-b Brand for over ten now, who in fact curdles away from anything obnoxiously logo'd even if I otherwise love it (sup River Island), I thought this would be a fascinating kind of soft-social-science memoir/cultural overview with ultimately little to teach me about my own habits. Especially in light of the neo-Batemanesque opening, 'I am a half-eaten apple, a polo-playing horseman and a snow-capped mountain. When I am at work, I like to be thought of as a free-thinking creative. So I use an Apple Mac, which is what all the cool, artistic people seem to use. My polo shirt, made by Ralph Lauren, is common among council estate kids and I wear it to make me look just a little bit tough. All day I drink Evian water, not because it tastes especially nice, it's just that the label makes me feel healthy and, well, special. I am a white, lower middle-class Londoner, an ABC1. As a brand consumer yourself, you should be able to guess all this just by looking at me.' For the most part, for whatever reason, perhaps due to my being plus-sized out of most shops on the proverbial high street, this all is a language that largely evades me, and having worked in big box retail for a lamentable number of years I feel generally aware of (albeit far from immune to) the power of packaging and presentation. But it goes without saying that I bought this book because of the cover. It goes without saying that I, like Boorman, have found myself scrabbling around in the designated kitchen drawer, already late leaving for work, searching out 'the right bag' to cart my sandwiches in. It goes without saying that I find myself buying Napolina over Trattoria Verdi because the label seems more... something.
But I wasn't looking for some potted reminder that a tin of tomatoes is a tin of tomatoes is a tin of tomatoes, and thankfully that wasn't what I got. As fantastic as the weaving of his research on advertising and the psychology of consumption absolutely was -- particularly chilling to read the 'black ball corner pocket' predictions and prescriptions of mid-century industry analysts, particularly Maser's 1924 call for the necessary manufacture of a new consumer mentality: 'People must be trained to want and desire new things ... man's desire must overshadow his needs' -- it was the story of Boorman's rapid deterioration that hooked me. Images of him scuttling around the streets of London dressed all in scratchy black, carrying his belongings in dangerously thin unmarked plastic carriers from the corner shop, clinging desperately to his beaten-up copy of 'Ways of Seeing', drinking tap water from pub bathrooms, have been stuck in my mind for days now. So far alienated from the culture around him that he can no longer conduct a conversation with former friends, unable to experience the social world he was once a part of as anything other than a system of codes and coded messages, repeatedly warned by his counsellor (another great narrative string) not to take this project too far, he begins to question the very nature of reality, of sanity, and of what constitutes and legitimises identity. What happens when we strip back our personal ideology, when we reject the ideological norm as handed down to us, sanctioned by all around us, when we go off-grid? Can we maintain relationships (even a sense of parsable self) when the cultural lingua franca is not just lost but, literally, burned through? In short, this is some sci-fi irl shit.
At first I wasn't a massive fan of the narrative style, the days being counted off with some arbitrary thought or topic ostensibly "du jour", but shortly it made sense as a construct, stopping the whole thing being too preachy or confusing (Boorman's reading around this topic really is both extensive and dense, and frequently cited). Considering this book was published in 2007, I was quite disappointed that the internet as a whole new kind of capitalist problem was almost entirely glossed over. Facebook was just taking over from myspace around this time, youtube was still fairly new, twitter and tumblr were on the way, everyone was moving to gmail. Boorman got rid of his tv, his smartphone, he talked a little about pop-ups (lol), but was he still googling? I mean the book originally started out as a blog, so. I understand the probable reasons he didn't want to Get Into It (lack of viable research sources, a whole new can of worms, some generational (in)difference) but it's still a shame. I was also a little disappointed that Boorman didn't fully explore the more facetious ad campaigns of recent years. Though touching upon the paradox of not believing in the "promises" of an advert while still buying into the product/brand (a prime example being Lynx), he didn't really offer a viable explanation for this, and I think there's a lot still to be said about the use of humour and sarcasm in selling. Why does it work for some brands and not others? What is the psychological implication of our being charmed by, essentially, cruelness?
Generally I'd have liked to hear more about our personal interaction with advertising, some expansion on Boorman's passing remarks that 'there is no 'them and us' in this scenario, no shadowy organisation seeking to control our lives', that 'we consumers remain complicit in the business of supply and demand.' I feel like that's another area that hasn't been explored enough, and I'm growing weary of hearing those who are somewhat savvy about consumer capitalist techniques (not least myself) whine about how manipulated our lives are without doing much to change things, even on an utterly personal level. No matter. This is a really great, funny, affecting memoir, and a brilliant starting point (avec extensive introductory reading list) for exploring contemporary radical theory. And/or changing how you see e v e r y t h i n g
As someone who's been using the same piece of crap payg for four years and who hasn't consciously sought out a clothing capital-b Brand for over ten now, who in fact curdles away from anything obnoxiously logo'd even if I otherwise love it (sup River Island), I thought this would be a fascinating kind of soft-social-science memoir/cultural overview with ultimately little to teach me about my own habits. Especially in light of the neo-Batemanesque opening, 'I am a half-eaten apple, a polo-playing horseman and a snow-capped mountain. When I am at work, I like to be thought of as a free-thinking creative. So I use an Apple Mac, which is what all the cool, artistic people seem to use. My polo shirt, made by Ralph Lauren, is common among council estate kids and I wear it to make me look just a little bit tough. All day I drink Evian water, not because it tastes especially nice, it's just that the label makes me feel healthy and, well, special. I am a white, lower middle-class Londoner, an ABC1. As a brand consumer yourself, you should be able to guess all this just by looking at me.' For the most part, for whatever reason, perhaps due to my being plus-sized out of most shops on the proverbial high street, this all is a language that largely evades me, and having worked in big box retail for a lamentable number of years I feel generally aware of (albeit far from immune to) the power of packaging and presentation. But it goes without saying that I bought this book because of the cover. It goes without saying that I, like Boorman, have found myself scrabbling around in the designated kitchen drawer, already late leaving for work, searching out 'the right bag' to cart my sandwiches in. It goes without saying that I find myself buying Napolina over Trattoria Verdi because the label seems more... something.
But I wasn't looking for some potted reminder that a tin of tomatoes is a tin of tomatoes is a tin of tomatoes, and thankfully that wasn't what I got. As fantastic as the weaving of his research on advertising and the psychology of consumption absolutely was -- particularly chilling to read the 'black ball corner pocket' predictions and prescriptions of mid-century industry analysts, particularly Maser's 1924 call for the necessary manufacture of a new consumer mentality: 'People must be trained to want and desire new things ... man's desire must overshadow his needs' -- it was the story of Boorman's rapid deterioration that hooked me. Images of him scuttling around the streets of London dressed all in scratchy black, carrying his belongings in dangerously thin unmarked plastic carriers from the corner shop, clinging desperately to his beaten-up copy of 'Ways of Seeing', drinking tap water from pub bathrooms, have been stuck in my mind for days now. So far alienated from the culture around him that he can no longer conduct a conversation with former friends, unable to experience the social world he was once a part of as anything other than a system of codes and coded messages, repeatedly warned by his counsellor (another great narrative string) not to take this project too far, he begins to question the very nature of reality, of sanity, and of what constitutes and legitimises identity. What happens when we strip back our personal ideology, when we reject the ideological norm as handed down to us, sanctioned by all around us, when we go off-grid? Can we maintain relationships (even a sense of parsable self) when the cultural lingua franca is not just lost but, literally, burned through? In short, this is some sci-fi irl shit.
At first I wasn't a massive fan of the narrative style, the days being counted off with some arbitrary thought or topic ostensibly "du jour", but shortly it made sense as a construct, stopping the whole thing being too preachy or confusing (Boorman's reading around this topic really is both extensive and dense, and frequently cited). Considering this book was published in 2007, I was quite disappointed that the internet as a whole new kind of capitalist problem was almost entirely glossed over. Facebook was just taking over from myspace around this time, youtube was still fairly new, twitter and tumblr were on the way, everyone was moving to gmail. Boorman got rid of his tv, his smartphone, he talked a little about pop-ups (lol), but was he still googling? I mean the book originally started out as a blog, so. I understand the probable reasons he didn't want to Get Into It (lack of viable research sources, a whole new can of worms, some generational (in)difference) but it's still a shame. I was also a little disappointed that Boorman didn't fully explore the more facetious ad campaigns of recent years. Though touching upon the paradox of not believing in the "promises" of an advert while still buying into the product/brand (a prime example being Lynx), he didn't really offer a viable explanation for this, and I think there's a lot still to be said about the use of humour and sarcasm in selling. Why does it work for some brands and not others? What is the psychological implication of our being charmed by, essentially, cruelness?
Generally I'd have liked to hear more about our personal interaction with advertising, some expansion on Boorman's passing remarks that 'there is no 'them and us' in this scenario, no shadowy organisation seeking to control our lives', that 'we consumers remain complicit in the business of supply and demand.' I feel like that's another area that hasn't been explored enough, and I'm growing weary of hearing those who are somewhat savvy about consumer capitalist techniques (not least myself) whine about how manipulated our lives are without doing much to change things, even on an utterly personal level. No matter. This is a really great, funny, affecting memoir, and a brilliant starting point (avec extensive introductory reading list) for exploring contemporary radical theory. And/or changing how you see e v e r y t h i n g
June 15, 2010
The basic premise is an interesting one: why are brands so important to some people, and can they really define who you are, or who you aspire to be.
Personally I've never really bought into the brand identity thing: I don't feel I define myself through what I wear or display, I have deeds and words to perform that function.
It's an interesting concept though, and whilst Neil Boorman was clearly obsessed with what others thought of him, I don't give two hoots if some shallow person thinks they know all about me based on my clothes.
Perhaps this is because in my formative years I simply didn't have the disposable cash to lavish on such trophy brands, or the fact that I spent what I had on books, CDs and other such ephemera?
The book provides some good insights into the consumer culture, what's caused it and what potentially lies ahead.
I'll be using it to teach my kids about the perils of brand snobbery, and explain exactly how they can save money to spend on something ultimately more rewarding.
Personally I've never really bought into the brand identity thing: I don't feel I define myself through what I wear or display, I have deeds and words to perform that function.
It's an interesting concept though, and whilst Neil Boorman was clearly obsessed with what others thought of him, I don't give two hoots if some shallow person thinks they know all about me based on my clothes.
Perhaps this is because in my formative years I simply didn't have the disposable cash to lavish on such trophy brands, or the fact that I spent what I had on books, CDs and other such ephemera?
The book provides some good insights into the consumer culture, what's caused it and what potentially lies ahead.
I'll be using it to teach my kids about the perils of brand snobbery, and explain exactly how they can save money to spend on something ultimately more rewarding.
August 20, 2021
Bonfire Of The Brands initially started off well as the author explains his journey of why he wants to try and live without mainstream & luxury brands. However, as the book progresses it becomes tiresome and too self-indulgent, with few interesting titbits to keep the reader engaged.
Although clearly written in a completely different vein, I’d recommend reading the anti-consumer classic No Logo by Naomi Klein instead.
Although clearly written in a completely different vein, I’d recommend reading the anti-consumer classic No Logo by Naomi Klein instead.
February 26, 2025
A bit boring.
October 23, 2010
I liked this book. It's in the same vein as No Logo: No Space, No Choice, No Jobs but less preachy, with the premise that the author that decides his obsessive love for brands is controlling and ruining his life and that the answer is to destroy everything he owns that is branded. The book is combined from the diary and blog he kept in both the run-up to and the aftermath of the burning.
It did make for interesting reading, but it wasn't life-changing to me. I think that people that are so dictated by brands to this extreme are rare - thankfully. Also, although I knew why it felt important to him to burn everything, I couldn't help but keep thinking "Why don't you give it away, instead?" Lots of commentators on his blog and dissenters in the press at the time made this same point and I agreed. It was a ritualistic thing for him (much is made by his therapist of the fact that his father designs fire safety alarms for a living) but I felt that his conspicuous and unnecessary consumption could have been turned into a positive thing, instead of being wasted.
I agree with Ban Hashim whose review on Visual Bookshelf on Facebook said "although his aims were admirable they were in essence futile and self-serving. I also think that the picture on the back of the book was a mistake as his smug look really doesn't make you want to believe this has any higher motive than attention-seeking egotistical self-exploration." This is true - he seems to be trying so hard to do a good thing but it feels pointless and egotistical.
It did make for interesting reading, but it wasn't life-changing to me. I think that people that are so dictated by brands to this extreme are rare - thankfully. Also, although I knew why it felt important to him to burn everything, I couldn't help but keep thinking "Why don't you give it away, instead?" Lots of commentators on his blog and dissenters in the press at the time made this same point and I agreed. It was a ritualistic thing for him (much is made by his therapist of the fact that his father designs fire safety alarms for a living) but I felt that his conspicuous and unnecessary consumption could have been turned into a positive thing, instead of being wasted.
I agree with Ban Hashim whose review on Visual Bookshelf on Facebook said "although his aims were admirable they were in essence futile and self-serving. I also think that the picture on the back of the book was a mistake as his smug look really doesn't make you want to believe this has any higher motive than attention-seeking egotistical self-exploration." This is true - he seems to be trying so hard to do a good thing but it feels pointless and egotistical.
June 4, 2008
An interesting read about one man's journey to discover meaning in hos life by removing from it everything that gave it meaning in the past, at least in his view. I found the first half of the book - the part leading up to the bonfire - much more interesting than the post-bonfire section, however it also made me stop and think about my own attachment to stuff and why I often want or purchase things simply because I feel I have to and not because I need that skirt or pair of shoes. Like many contributors to his blog I would have preferred to see Neil give the good he destroyed in the bonfire to charity, however I can also recognise that for him, burning his clothes, etc, was a cathartic exercise that he had to go through in order to move on. I can't help but wonder how he's going now that the book is out and about and he's been living this de-branded life for a year or more. The epilogue brought us the news that he was about to become a father for the first time, and I know from experience that once kids come into the picture, everything else has to get shoved aside to a certain extent and I doubt he will be any different to most new fathers who's main priority is making sure their family is taken care of.
June 3, 2020
Not bad. Obviously a little raw, as it appears (I hope) to be a unedited, un-revised daily diary, compiled into digest form.
Personally I think he went too far in trying to remove himself completely from the market - everything has a brand or is a brand or branded, one way or another, but I applaud his dedication and commitment to his decision.
While a little over-rambling, there was some really good points about how we, as consumers, are tricked and manipulated into consuming more and more, paying more and more for what is mostly mass-produced as the same thing, but differentiated on price by branding and marketing.
Boorman's solution does not adequately address what to do about purchasing on quality. Some times quality is important, and sometimes that quality can only be had by buying a certain brand item - medical/musical instruments and workshop tools come to mind. In these situations, avoiding branded items defeat the purpose of buying the item.
An interesting, if somewhat depressing alternate view of how to deal with a hyper-consumerist society.
Personally I think he went too far in trying to remove himself completely from the market - everything has a brand or is a brand or branded, one way or another, but I applaud his dedication and commitment to his decision.
While a little over-rambling, there was some really good points about how we, as consumers, are tricked and manipulated into consuming more and more, paying more and more for what is mostly mass-produced as the same thing, but differentiated on price by branding and marketing.
Boorman's solution does not adequately address what to do about purchasing on quality. Some times quality is important, and sometimes that quality can only be had by buying a certain brand item - medical/musical instruments and workshop tools come to mind. In these situations, avoiding branded items defeat the purpose of buying the item.
An interesting, if somewhat depressing alternate view of how to deal with a hyper-consumerist society.
January 22, 2017
A brilliant book, one I wouldn't hesitate to recommend to anyone. The best books are those that can change your perspective on something, and that is exactly what this does.
I think people who are not quite open to the message of the book are the ones leaving reviews accusing Boorman of pursuing a selfish agenda in writing this and the events that led to its conception, but for me that is unavoidably a part of the process he documents; trying to take a step away from his brand based defence mechanisms whilst maintaining frank honesty about his perceptions and thoughts throughout. Granted, his writing style is a world away from Shakespeare, but in my opinion this is a book that places it's merit in its message, not its graceful tones.
If you get a chance to read this, I'd whole heartedly recommend it to anyone and everyone. Considering the subject matter, it really is quite a breezy read and enjoyable from start to end.
I think people who are not quite open to the message of the book are the ones leaving reviews accusing Boorman of pursuing a selfish agenda in writing this and the events that led to its conception, but for me that is unavoidably a part of the process he documents; trying to take a step away from his brand based defence mechanisms whilst maintaining frank honesty about his perceptions and thoughts throughout. Granted, his writing style is a world away from Shakespeare, but in my opinion this is a book that places it's merit in its message, not its graceful tones.
If you get a chance to read this, I'd whole heartedly recommend it to anyone and everyone. Considering the subject matter, it really is quite a breezy read and enjoyable from start to end.
January 9, 2010
So belanglos und oberflächlich ich "Marken-Konsumenten" halte bzw. vorverurteile, so belanglos ist die erste Hälfte dieses Buches. Ausführliche Selbstbemitleidung wie schwer der Verzicht auf Marken fällt, was da für den einzelnen alles dranhängt etc. Jemand, der Zeit seines bisherigen Lebens überwiegend abseits von Zielgruppen einkauft, kann über diese erste Hälfte nur mitleidig lächeln.
Der -- für mich -- beste Teil sind die 50 Seitein nach der Verbrennung, wo viel darüber kommt, wie Marken funktionieren und warum sie so funktionieren, wie sie funktionieren und welche Denkprozesse beim Autor ablaufen, um sich in seiner neuen Rolle zurecht zu finden.
Der -- für mich -- beste Teil sind die 50 Seitein nach der Verbrennung, wo viel darüber kommt, wie Marken funktionieren und warum sie so funktionieren, wie sie funktionieren und welche Denkprozesse beim Autor ablaufen, um sich in seiner neuen Rolle zurecht zu finden.
June 24, 2010
I came across Neil's blog and was intrigued enough that I bought this book. Very glad I did.
I think it was a brave book to write - basically exposing his low self esteem and baring his psyche for the common good. Examining WHY he was so seduced by brands. Why it was a problem for him, breaking it down. How he learned to live without brands, how difficult it was.
Really interesting analysis, from a non-American point of view. Why do we care if our shoes are from Nike or not? In my case, why do I need yet another overpriced designer handbag?
Lots of food of thought in this one.
I think it was a brave book to write - basically exposing his low self esteem and baring his psyche for the common good. Examining WHY he was so seduced by brands. Why it was a problem for him, breaking it down. How he learned to live without brands, how difficult it was.
Really interesting analysis, from a non-American point of view. Why do we care if our shoes are from Nike or not? In my case, why do I need yet another overpriced designer handbag?
Lots of food of thought in this one.
August 9, 2007
There's some interesting stuff in this book about our committment to branded goods. The part that continues to resonate with me is his discussion of why we reserve the greatest resentment for those who adopt styles most similar to our own. I think it explains a lot about hipster-hating hipsters (like me.)
May 24, 2014
I have to say, prior to reading this book I didn't really expect much. However, this was an interesting read. The book was in a diary format for the most part, and I'd definitely advise anyone who is materialistic to read. However, having said that I don't consider myself as materialistic as Neil in this book, I still found it fascinating.
September 19, 2016
dude pays shitloads money to get customized Mac OS to have it without any branding, could of just installed linux (LOL) anyways, if he's taking the extra mile to make his own toothpaste.
overall and intersting path to go, but kinda similar way of life to all of us coming from soviet russia. or not if take MADE IN USSR as a brand as well
overall and intersting path to go, but kinda similar way of life to all of us coming from soviet russia. or not if take MADE IN USSR as a brand as well
March 25, 2009
A brilliant first-person encounter with rampant individualalism and status anxiety created by brands and major corporations, both of which I despise utterly. A great companion to Tom Hodgekinson's 'How To Be Free' and 'How To Be Idle'.
March 6, 2008
There are so many people I want to force this book upon. The author may be a bit of a shallow wanker, but he makes some excellent points.
January 5, 2010
Interessantes Experiment, ein markenloses Leben zu versuchen. Regt auch nicht-Marken-Junkies zum Nachdenken an.
July 12, 2012
A well written and interesting journal of a journalist about his atempt to live a brand free life.
Displaying 1 - 17 of 17 reviews