A Letter from the Editor
I grew up in one of those stately old neighborhoods with worn sidewalks, historic homes, and narrow roadways. From the early days of playing with green army men among dirt bunkers to driving our family car to the senior prom, the most vivid memories of that neighborhood were the colored canopies that formed over roadways and sidewalks in the fall. 70-year-old chestnut oaks turned brilliant orange, marking the arrival of autumn.
It’s of interest to me then, as the trees turn and the days shorten, that so many are quick to point out that this brilliant showcase of beauty is actually a sign that life is inching its way toward the barrenness of winter. That these markers of my favorite season are, in fact, harbingers of death.
I say those people can crawl back into their caves while I take a leisurely stroll and wax poetic about why they’re wrong. This curious, fiery “demise” and the dreary darkness that follows it is, to me, a wonderful reminder of change. Of life beginning again. As an individual who often seeks comfort in routine and sameness, I find the turn of this season to be a sort of spiritual cleansing. While the summer air is thick and drowsy, autumn’s metamorphosis purges the air of such weight, and our coma of comfort with it. It prompts an awareness that the shifting landscape of life around us is in flux. That change is upon us. That winter is coming.
For me, the mists, the rain, the cool silence, and wine-coloured leaves ultimately beget a refreshing state of melancholy. A melancholy that at once renews creative energy and compels contemplation.
So we’ve been contemplating things. And not just the little things but the big ones. Those things that influence who Classfare is and what we do — the type of individuals we highlight, the stories we tell, and the brands we determine are worth talking about. And I must say that we’ve gotten a few things wrong. In our attempt to provide more “accessible” choices for the price-conscious shopper, we made the concession to show some products of inferior quality from brands that don’t meet our standards. And to bring you breadth and volume of content, we highlighted some topics of interest with the kind of brevity better found in listicles than periodicals.
So we’ve committed to changing things. If you didn’t notice this change in last month’s issue, you certainly will in this one. There may be less content, but it will be better. There may be fewer products, but they will be those that we believe in. The prices of some items may be higher, but that investment will support finer craftsmanship, better design, and a more sustainable supply chain. Amidst life’s busyness, we hope to provide you a faithful curation of notable stories, narratives, and products that are truly worth your time and your dollar.
Let’s be honest — we don’t have everything figured out. We know we’ll never be short on things to correct. But we hope we’ll always be willing to change them.
Bring on the fall. We’re ready for a change.
Ian Deming, Editor-in-Chief