Getting back to the bare essentials

CENTS AND NONSENSETrappings of wealth are being stripped away by a shaky world economy and irresponsible personal spending, writes Margaret E. Ward

WHEN I was a child, my mother would dress my little brother for Mass each Sunday. He was the only boy, born unexpectedly when she was 41, and on the Sabbath she trussed him up in blue velvet and linen. My father and I called him Little Lord Fauntleroy and laughed at them both.

One Sunday, age 2.5, our royal child went missing. We followed a trail of short trousers, frilly shirt, jacket, waistcoat, socks, shoes and underpants to find him running naked down the street, shouting "Nudie, nudie, nudie!" The look on his face was one of pure joy. He was free. His days as a dress-up doll were over.

In seven weeks, if I don't chicken out, I am getting naked too. It's not a trip to a nudist colony or a topless beach or to perform on a London stage. At dawn on June 21st, the summer solstice, I will join thousands of people to bare all for US photographer Spencer Tunick's new artwork in Dublin.

Tunick photographs people as part of a landscape or cityscape. If you think of the television commercials featuring thousands of people as skin cells then you get the picture. Similar projects by Tunick have already taken place in the US, Italy, Brazil, Mexico, Spain, Canada, Germany, the Netherlands and France.

Now I'm as self-conscious as the rest about my ageing, flabby body but Tunick's project strikes me as the perfect symbol for this moment in Ireland's economic history.

After more than a decade of excess, the trappings of our wealth are being stripped away by a shaky world economy and irresponsible personal spending. We have, it seems, been wearing the emperor's new clothes.

For those who forget the story, a pretentious emperor who loves clothes hires two "tailors" who promise to make him a fine suit from the most beautiful cloth. The pair say the cloth is invisible to those who are either stupid or unfit for their position. They dress him in their creation and he parades through the town.

During the procession, a child yells: "But he has nothing on!" and the crowd, realising she speaks the truth, howls with laughter. The emperor, however, holds his head high and continues on.

Money is a wonderful thing and making buckets of it can be great fun. However, economic success is an illusion if you can't actually afford the things you buy. Thousands of us have financed increasingly elaborate lifestyles - five holidays a year, redecorating every two years and new cars every January - by refinancing our homes or putting the cost on credit cards. Keeping up with the Fitzpatricks was the new religion.

This was an easy strategy when property prices were rising and the banks lent to anyone who could sign their name. Of course, this clever plan is now disintegrating as quickly as the cash that funded it.

Many, many people are now struggling financially. Look at their worried faces and at the trend figures. The Central Statistics Office (CSO) says consumers are spending less for the first time in four years. No wonder: the mortgage is increasing but the salaries stay the same. Food and energy are expensive. Home repossessions are up. Prescriptions for anxiety and depression pills are more popular than ever.

Even the future is insecure. Stock prices and pension fund values are way down. Investors who bought into the latest share / property / commodity guru's scheme have found that the wizard's magic strategy only works in a rising market.

Abuses of financial trust - solicitors who play musical chairs with other people's money and banks who fail to protect customer information - are coming to light on the news pages.

Depressed? My advice: get naked. Throw off the shackles of all that stuff. Sell what you don't need or give it away. Do a physical, mental and spiritual spring clean. If you're in debt, face up to it and start making arrangements with your lenders. Pull back on the spending.

Collective nudity is liberating. When you get naked, you stop competing. By removing our clothes, we remove our individuality. Our choice of fabric, colour and style are all an expression of who we are but once we remove these adornments, we become more like one another.

The birthday suit is a universal fashion.

Getting back to basics may help us all refocus on what's real - our family, friends, neighbours and community - and embrace it rather than chasing the latest financial or fashion trend.

Margaret E Ward is a journalist and a director of Clear Ink, the clear English specialists.