Sun, 21 Dec 1997

Designers ready to steal back domestic market

Text by Dini S. Djalal photos by Arief Suhardiman

JAKARTA (JP): So the rupiah crashed and you can no longer afford all those imported initials that make or break your fashion statement. Great, you whine, in 1998 I'll have nothing to wear.

Fret not, fashion-phile, for Indonesian designers are getting ready to steal back the domestic market. They're revving up to get your custom, and they're doing it by offering you... nothing to wear.

That's because sheer looks set to be all over the stores, if not all over everyone but the most clueless fashion Philistine. At least, that's what designers hope.

At the annual trend show of the Association of Indonesian Fashion Designers and Manufacturers (APPMI), fabrics of all textures, weights and colors came in sheer versions. Much to the joy of catcalling photographers, Fashion Tendance '98 was a celebration of barely covered flesh.

Of course, nobody complains when what sheer reveals is worth revealing. Girls barely out of high school look great in sheer gowns (Taruna Kusmayadi, Etty Bachetta, Denny Wirawan, Vincent) which reveal cellulite-free legs or pre-childbirth waists.

Sheer on bodies which haven't seen a gym since the 1980s and instead have seen too many donuts, however, is not so pretty. In such emergencies, slide thick underwear under see-through garments or risk the consequences.

But fragile sheer is also tough to wear. Wearing sheer clothes, even when sewn together by extra-strength threads, requires the gentlest of movements -- a sudden jerk and that lovely slip of chiffon becomes various slits of chiffon.

That sheer is, for active women at least, a sheer nightmare may be surprising to those who for several seasons have seen countless gossamer-fine creations from designers worldwide. That's because underneath the floodlights of the catwalk, sheer, billowing past dazed audiences, can look simply stunning.

Equally stunning are the beadwork, sequins and embroideries cropping up in nearly every collection this year. Ornamental details came in every color -- Denny Wirawan liked pastels, Ina Rachma preferred browns, Musa Widyatmodjo pitched for rich pinks and purples.

They also came in a variety of patterns. Denny Wirawan painted curls and vines, Etty Bachetta bolder Dayak-style curlicues, Ina Rachma Chinese-inspired brocades, Vincent barely-there squiggles, and Musa Widyatmodjo little leaves and flowers.

But even beauty can bore if overexposed. So sparkling ornamentation, which sent audiences swooning when they first came out at Prada, Dries Van Noten, and Cerruti (then under the direction of the brilliant Narcisso Rodriguez), now invite comments like "not again". It's a shame that audiences are tiring of the trend just as designers are exploring the possibilities. And detailing offers jobs to craftspeople in addition to reviving skills.

That customers may not warm to the idea of shiny, glittery clothes is understandable. Would you feel safe at an ATM machine wearing a sequined sweater? Would you be taken seriously at work wearing a jacket with a beaded flower patch? Ornamentation is pretty but also glitzy, and even the most exhibitionist yuppies in this minimalist age prefer to be inconspicuous.

While designers wait and see whether glitz will gleam on, there are alternatives.

Corrie Kastubi showed a great collection in stretch satin -- hot is the operative word here. Models clomped out in abbreviated dresses and lots of attitude.

Dessy Munaf also liked the leggy look, with navy embroideries splashed on slices of skirts. Models wore Dimas Mahendra's layers of pleats barefoot and blowing bubbles -- just the right casual touch for the simple silhouettes of tunics and leggings.

Some played safe and repeated past successes. Iwan Tirta showed his trademark prada batiks coveted by statesmen worldwide. Rizal Rais is still knit-crazy, even though his sweaters seem too bulky for this tropical climate. The real Jeany Johanes may be getting older, but her collection remains as young as ever -- bright tie-dyes popped up on A-line dresses.

Stretch tulle also remains Nanik Rachmat's forte, and this year she offers them in shades of the sea. Her new tie-dye prints, sometimes paired with asymmetrical-hem silk gray columns, also convey the rich hippie image.

The ethnic look, after all, is a good investment. Poppy Darsono showed traditional kebaya -- more charming, however, were the not-so-traditional wrap-tunics and cheongsams that topped Pekalongan-style batiks.

The best collections came from designers who offer something new, or at least something different from their usual fare. Musa Widyatmodjo showed velvets, shantung, and brocades in the richest of purples and pinks, a visceral feast of imperial colors. Other royal hues followed of coppers and golds, shades of jade and turquoise. Everywhere were flowers lovingly embroidered. The mix may bring Musa some grief for being derivative, but why should he care so long as his customers look great.

Such giddy, frilly clothes are not expected from Musa, whose collections are usually executive wear. But his often hidden talents for draping and cutting shone, particularly in asymmetrical bodices. Musa's collection confirms the perception that APPMI, once considered the less sophisticated of Indonesia's designer associations -- the Indonesian Fashion Designers' Council (IPMI) is the other -- is quickly playing catch-up to its more stylish rival.

This is due in no small amount to APPMI's younger members. Dina Midiani showed an excellent collection of cleverly cut cocktail dresses. Color-blocking made waists look slimmer, and curves were cut into shoulders. A half-dress over a strapless jumpsuit showed Dian's promise.

Poppy Darsono warns not to underestimate these budding designers. All sell their collections in department stores, and some sell more than their seniors, she says.

Poppy admits the younger bloods help boost the team spirit. "Hopefully there has been some improvement," she said.