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?