Fashion's future as seen by Indonesian designers

Fashion's future as seen by Indonesian designers

By Dini S. Djalal

JAKARTA (JP): Five years until the new millennium, and, by the
looks of recent collections, the fashion world is waiting
anxiously for its arrival.

The Indonesian Fashion Designers Council (IFDC), not to be
confused with the Indonesian Fashion Designers Association
(IFDA), held its annual show on Jan. 12. It was a presentation
called "Trends 1995".

Comprising 21 designers, the IFDC is considered more exclusive
and trendy than the IFDA. For this reason, I arrived at the show
with high expectations.

Conventional wisdom suggests that fashion reflects the times.
The miniskirt arrived in the 1960s along with greater social
freedom, and shoulder pads empowered female executives in
boardrooms in the 1980s.

Halfway through the 1990s, the future of fashion seems
schizophrenic. Having spent the first half of the decade awash in
sentimental revivals of preceding decades, many designers have
now taken "the future" as inspiration. They have given us plastic
jeans, silver suits and satin slips.

To the visionaries who never veered from their modern and
singular esthetics, like Helmut Lang in Europe and Biyan in
Indonesia, their peer's futuristic turn may seem hasty. As the
cliche states, who knows what the future holds? Will the twenty-
first century be necessarily defined by synthetic and metallic
attire?

It is fitting that Biyan opened the IFDC show, because he has
proven to be highly unique. This year he presented a collection
under the show's theme of "New Indonesia". Using an incandescent
ivory palette, he painted his models in swinging satin slips and
pajamas, in brocaded equestrian jackets, and in sequined T-shirts
and sheer blouses. Skirt lengths hovered awkwardly at mid-calf,
saved only by the transparent tops which looked like luminous
pools of pearls. Models appeared in bodices of wrapped chiffon
and matching angle-length sarongs or bias-cut skirts, resembling
latter-day Grecian muses simmering in the tropics.

As usual, Biyan's pattern-cutting is indecipherable to the
amateur eye, with swathes of fabric here and there, and fastening
ties in unlikely places. Although Biyan uses the gleaming fabrics
declared to be en vogue this year, he remains clearly guided by
his own "stark yet decorative" principles as a designer.

The same can't be said about the other designers. Dandy
Burhan, in his "New Punk" collection, showed neon-colored
peplumed suits with shoulders stretching from Sabang to Merauke.
Supposedly, this mid-1980s silhouette is to be fast-forwarded to
2001 by the plastic collars shooting high past the ears and the
plastic covering of the A-lined mini-skirts, worn with matching
tights and stiletto heels. Yet, despite the obvious aspirations
towards a futuristic style, Burhan's is no closer to cyberpunk
than Thierry Mugler, the French designer he copied.

Derivative may seem an unfair label because fashion trends
eventually disseminate worldwide, but Indonesian designers often
present uninspired tangents of European or American collections.
From Chossy Latu's gold babydolls to Adrianto Halim's white lace
minis, the A-line silhouette worn with thigh-high stockings looks
dated and done, despite all the hype about socks currently being
de rigeur.

Susan Budihardjo donned her models in sunglasses and
asymmetrical black wrapped minis, again covered in plastic. The
accessories, from the carrier bags to the shoes, were also clear-
plastic. Environmental awareness was obviously not on her mind.
Or has plastic been proven much more durable and therefore more
politically correct than cotton?

Satin

The most-favored fabric this season, however, is clearly
satin. Itang Yunasz, in an impressively cohesive collection of
pretty roses-printed pastels, brought forth satin bras, satin
blazers, satin waistcoats and even roses-print satin boxer shorts
for men (Now there is a valentine's gift for your partner). The
ubiquitous slip-dresses, now standard fare on runways, were
particularly lovely and cut asymmetrically by Yunasz in mixed
chiffon and satin.

Satins also permeated Ghea Sukarya's collection of flesh-
colored modern kebayas. Sukarya claims that these sheer kebayas
are for "the new generation of Indonesian women". Yet the image
of even the most liberated woman in a sheer kebaya over lace
shorts and brassieres seems preposterous outside of a bedroom.
Sukarya's probe into all things satin gives us provocative sweet-
nothings for the boudoir, but the modern woman, Indonesian or
otherwise, needs more wearable attire. The jumputan-printed satin
sack-dresses and chiffon blouses seem more appropriate, and twice
as stunning.

Carmanita and Robby Tumewu both chose "New Indonesia" as their
theme, and showed the normal layers of loose shirts over sarongs.
The only difference was in the color palette: Carmanita chose
pastels and Tumewu chose vivid brights. Not much was new here,
and it made me wonder when Indonesia will at last define its
contemporary signature uniform.

As if to dispel notions that fashion has to be nationalistic,
Prajudi Atmodirjo offered a collection that was literally
inspired. Prajudi used the iridescent canvases of Austrian Gustav
Klimt as his own in a variety of guises including the slip-dress
and the beaded evening-gown. And why not? Many designers claim to
be artists, so why not display uncontested art instead of
battling the unbelievers? Prajudi's ensembles, however, are
innovative in their own right, particularly the cavalier-style
jackets whose sleeve-buttons unbutton up to the shoulder.

Of all the directions, and mis-directions, that Indonesian
fashion is heading towards, the most directional attire was that
of Thomas Sigar. It was a short white tube-dress with metallic
rainbow stripes crossing the body diagonally, and held together
by a thin diagonal strap across the collarbone. Its simplicity,
wearability and individuality made it the most modern ensemble of
the evening.

The most impressive junior members were Ronald Gaghana and
Sebastian Gunawan.

Gaghana was an apprentice of Biyan and has the single-
mindedness of his tutor. His cloth of choice is PVC, a synthetic
material which looks like leather. His vision of 1995 is that of
men and women in black PVC fitted overcoats with thick silver or
leopard-print lining, worn atop matching jeans or short-short
skirts. PVC may not be the most comfortable garment in the
tropics, unless the air-conditioning in your office reaches polar
temperatures, but Gaghana's tailored sleekness may make comfort
negligible.

In contrast, Sebastian Gunawan's collection, entitled "Silver
Screen", is enamored by a more glamorous past. Using lace, satin,
and feathers, he created intricately-cut and embroidered
ballgowns suited for the plush life. One must credit his talent
as a couturier, although Gaghana's garb may be more accessible to
the modern woman.

Which leads us to the ultimate question of the role of
fashion. Should fashion primarily reflect the times, or address
the woman (or man) who must wear it? Will fashion subject working
women to uncomfortable plastic miniskirts and see-through chiffon
shirts? Or will it clothe its customers in classic easy-to-wash
cottons and denims?

With the Information Highway under construction, it is
predicted that more people will work from home in their beloved
T-shirts and jeans. Commuting to the office in a stiff suit will
be a bad dream. Fashion designers should take the tip: design
with a woman's comfort and income in mind. Satin is indeed
gorgeous to hold and behold, but who can afford the dry-cleaning?