Ethnic-inspired clothes in the spotlight in Jakarta
Ethnic-inspired clothes in the spotlight in Jakarta
By Dini S. Djalal
JAKARTA (JP): This year sees the commemoration of the golden anniversary of Indonesia's independence from Dutch colonialism. In the 1990s, many other countries across Asia, Africa and Latin America, are also celebrating their first 50 years as sovereign states.
In an effort to distance themselves from their colonial past, "developing" countries may choose the path of modernization (i.e. Singapore) or traditionalism (Iran), or synthesize both paths. High-tech industrialization bestows international prestige, but the continuation of age-old traditions implies a strong culture distinct from and not reliant on "the West." The tools of daily life -- clothes, architecture, food and the ideas behind them -- come to symbolize the strength of one's culture.
In anthropological texts and tourist guidebooks, Indonesia's reputation as a land of ethnic diversity is unsurpassed. Colorful costumes dot the archipelago, worn by weavers and woodcarvers and batik-artists. Fashion shows held by local designers often celebrate traditional dress and fabrics.
In the nation's cities, however, a Chanel bag is more prestigious than a handwoven ikat scarf. At Jakarta's shopping malls, trendy women wear Scottish tartan kilts while their batik kebayas gather dust in the closet.
Sentimental
On May 20, the Jakarta International Festival's fashion show at Ancol Travelodge showcased the works of 22 Indonesian fashion designers, as well as the traditional costumes of India, Jordan, Thailand and Vietnam. The theme of the show was "Arts, fashion, and culture". At the Jakarta Hilton International on May 22, a Turkish Gala Evening was held by the Embassy of Turkey, also celebrating traditional arts. A fashion show was given by Zuhal Yorgancioglu, known internationally as "Madame Z" or the "Turkish Dior", and her daughter Muberra Yorgancioglu.
At both shows, emphasis was on fabrics rather than silhouette. The Jakarta International Festival show opened with traditional Javanese wedding gowns, designed by Susie Hediyanto in ornate gold prada. Both bride and groom moved with snail-like steps, either reveling in the glory of refinement, or alternately, constrained by the weight of decorum.
The epic entrance only left high expectations. Ramli's cream kebayas followed, worn with plastic sandals decorated with traditional Javanese gunungan motif and a matching parasol. The image was sweet but sentimental -- remnants of the good life in Old Batavia?
Dimas Mahendra entertained more modern sensibilities. His crinkled shirts and scarves provided a sculptural contrast to his abstractly painted shirts and brown batik sarongs. The mingling of traditional prints with individual designs was a sign of cultural sensitivity and artistry. Robby Tumewu's neon-colored ensembles, meanwhile, seemed to mock the Dayak culture which he borrowed from. From the models' ears hung flesh-colored cloth holding together multi-colored plastic hoops -- a take-off from the Dayak tradition of wearing multiple earrings so the earlobes elongate past the chin.
Samuel Wattimena, one of the show's organizers and designers, disclosed that the clothes were produced especially for the show, so they are not available in stores. Preparation time varies. Some take a week to produce the clothes, others take months. This may explain the great discrepancy between the collections.
Harry Dharsono's beaded and embroidered gowns worn with sequined turbans, for example, are exercises in technicolor calisthenics, suitable only for big personalities. Yet his ornate craftsmanship deserve praise. Dandy Burhan's aquamarine stiff- velvet tops, however, were ill-matched with the gold-embroidered Lampung tapis, the fulfillment of an ethnic quotient.
Other designers used ethnic fabrics in wondrous ways. Ghea Sukarya predictably sent out an array of glorious patola-patterns in wispy earth-toned silks. The petite singlet/corset was everywhere in her collection and in Prajudi's, where they lay snugly in gold under cavalier-style tie-dyed jackets. Poppy Dharsono had her singlets match her black ikat. As a nod to tradition, these ensembles were paired with sarongs or kains. Ankle-length silhouettes were also popular, as in Samuel Wattimena's palazzo pants teamed with black-and-white ikat jackets and Carmanita's tie-dyed beige pajamas.
The best collections, however, were by those designers endeavoring to be free of "tradition". Itang Yunaz's sheer embroidered mini-dresses in white cottons were like acoustic pop tunes amidst blaring orchestras. Biyan's structured and bias-cut designs hint at no particular ethnic inspiration, but the cream linens and fringed scarves had an organic feel which transpire only from the tropics.
Biyan's collection was also one of the most accessible in terms of the mass market. Many of us do not indulge in wild patterns or shapes in our wardrobes, even for designer clothes. When asked about the discrepancy between what is shown at fashion shows and what is worn on the streets, Samuel Wattimena answers: "Not everyone eats at McDonald's! Some people like fine dining." What is important is that different markets are addressed, Wattimena adds.
"Sure we have that universal market, who shop at Benetton and Esprit and other casual-wear chains. But there must be designers out there producing traditional clothes. That doesn't mean that traditional clothes are high fashion, but we do have to cater to these other markets," he said.
Living Museum
Toha Masyhur, an anthropologist at Ethnodata, adds that some designers not only utilize traditional handicrafts for commercial purposes, but also fund communities to perpetuate their crafts.
"Prajudi, for example, helped villages to continue ikat production," he said. Masyhur also contends that Indonesia may be adopting a less decorative culture, but that does not imply the destruction of traditional culture.
"A Javanese may wear a suit to work, but that doesn't mean his beliefs are not Javanese," he said. "As long as a person feels that traditional dress, such as the kebaya is needed for certain occasions, then culture is not abandoned," Masyhur elaborated.
Masyhur does admit, however, the importance of cultural dialog between artists, designers and the public.
"It would be unfortunate if traditional dress becomes just a show, so that, like traditional dances and performances, it becomes part of a living museum," he said.
Postcard images
Turkey remains an assortment of postcard images to me, so I cannot comment on the resilience of their traditional culture. Judging by the richness of Madame Z's collection, however, it seems that the Arabian nights are still unfolding in Anatolia.
Turkey shares with Indonesia a legacy of cultural adaptation. Turkey has absorbed different cultural influences since the Hittite civilization of 6000 B.C., just as Indonesia retains aspects of its Hindu-Buddhist past from several centuries ago. Weaving and embroidery are among the age-old crafts which evolved in Anatolia.
Twentieth-century industrialization and particularly the mass production of garments for export in Turkey have threatened the crafts heritage. European influence had effected the arts since the 17th century, resulting in an ornate style called Turkish Rococo. Madame Z pursues a revival of Turkey's past individual glory, once remarking that Turkey refuses to merely be, "a workshop for the West, and nothing can be accomplished through flagrant imitation."
Madame Z's clothes are anything but imitative. Her collection traverses not only through the centuries but through strata of society. There are frilly milkmaid dresses in undyed cheesecloth and billowy embroidered blouses atop balloon pants for the carefree peasant look. Belly-dancing ensembles in dark velvets or satins were paraded next to dramatic robes and caftans drowning in gold embroidery.
In fact, the glitter and glamour became exhausting. In addition, some of the traditional silhouettes are not for the body-conscious. The draped trousers, utilizing perhaps four meters of fabric, would make waifs look like pears. Madame Z's classical evening wear was much kinder to the female figure.
Many beautiful gowns were on show, most with maroon or black velvet bodices atop black chiffon. The show closed with towering silk black columns in various shapes and designs. The embroidery was stunning.
The most memorable garments of the show, however, were not the brightly-colored pantsuits or embroidered gowns, but rather the simple pieces by Madame Z's daughter Muberra. She designed a series of gray, silver and copper ensembles which trace their origins to belly-dancing. The bare midriff accentuated the slender frame of minute waistcoats, while wide-legged pants or flowing skirts bestowed elegance and fluidity. Traditional embroidery was absent in these designs, but a Middle-Eastern flavor remained evident. Most importantly, because they may be worn confidently by women of all ages and socio-economic background, these clothes truly reflect the times and culture of their audience.