RI designers promote contemporary tie-dye fashion

RI designers promote contemporary tie-dye fashion

By Dini S. Djalal

Jakarta (JP): Imagine seeing your grandmother dressed in the
rap music uniform of a pair of very baggy jeans and an oversized
T-shirt topped off with a baseball cap and some giant gold
medallions.

Seem preposterous? Yet that is how some observers may
interpret the current craze in fashion for tie-dye clothes, which
were popularized in the 1960s by rock stars and hippies.

The crossing of a counter-culture into more mainstream
lifestyles has always been difficult. Often, the meaning and
purpose of the counter-culture becomes lost in its
commercialization.

In the 1960s, for example, the Rolling Stones were deified as
the symbol of youthful rebellion against the status quo, both in
their musical style and their hedonistic lifestyle. Two decades
later, they parade around as shamefully wealthy middle aged
rock 'n'rollers, while losing the respect of their peers.

More recently, the "punk look" was exploited by European and
American designers who were either indifferent or ignorant of the
anti-establishment and anti-commercial essence of the punk
movement in the late 1970s. Meaning was lost in the design, and
consequently, so was the impact.

Multi-faceted

In the context of Indonesian fashion design, however, the
cultural context of tie-dye clothes is multi-faceted.

Tie-dye in Indonesia has various names. It is called rincik-
tritik or jumputan in Java, sasirangan in Kalimantan and plangi
(rainbow) in Bali, Palembang, Lombok, and Sulawesi. The
tradition of plangi is said to date back 2000 years. In Bali, it
served as ornamentation at tooth-filing ceremonies and among the
Toraja of Sulawesi it was used to decorate the front of burial
caves. Plangi used to be more popular than it is today.

It is unclear why or when the tie-dye revival in Indonesia
began. It was most likely influenced by the worldwide 60s
cultural revival that happened in the late 1980s. At that time,
Ghea Sukarya, a popular Indonesian designer, was widely using
Palembang's colorful plangi designs for her collections The
renaissance of ethnic Indonesian clothes was launched.

Revival

On Wednesday, the Indonesian Fashion Designers Association
staged a fashion show which aimed to promote contemporary tie-dye
designs.

In a speech to the audience, Minister of Trade Satrio
Budiardjo Joedono remarked that, "Indonesia should tap into its
wealth of traditional textiles to produce a mainstream Indonesian
style for both clothes and textiles, which can then be exported."

Poppy Dharsono, an Indonesian fashion designer as well as an
avid promoter of Indonesian textiles, explains that, "a focus on
tie-dye fashion may revitalize not only the traditional crafts of
tie-dyeing but also other highly refined traditional cloth making
techniques." She added that it is important to incorporate
"traditional designs into a cosmopolitan style and wardrobe."

The event was a showcase for the creations of 19 fashion
designers, ranging from Poppy Dharsono's sophisticated suits to
Jeany Johanes' playful baby-doll dresses.

When first informed that the show was to focus on tie-dyed
designs, I expected to see an array of technicolor and youthful
t-shirts and jeans reminiscent of the hippie style twenty-five
years ago. I was surprised to find yards and yards of tie-dyed
cloth draped soberly as palazzo pants, long skirts or sarongs,
and tunics or suits.

The cloth itself was beautiful, either in summery shades of
orange, red and yellow, or in classic black and white.

There are two techniques employed to get the tie-dye patterns.
The circular jumputan patterns are made by binding small areas of
cloth tightly with thread or rubber bands, dipping it into the
dye and then untying the cloth to appreciate the jagged quality
of the dyed edges. Tritik patterns, however, are linear and made
by stitching the tightly bound cloth with thread.

Although the patterns were wonderful, the silhouettes of the
clothes were unfortunately neither exciting nor, in some cases,
particularly wearable. Most of the outfits were chiffon dresses
with flyway hems over wide-legged trousers or floating long
skirts. Or they were waistcoats and tunics over wide-legged
trousers or floating long skirts - fine for lounging around the
house in, but hazardous when negotiating a revolving door.

The designs were indeed typical of contemporary fashion, which
still dwells on the layered "romantic" look. But the clothes
began to be indistinguishable from one another. The designers
claimed different inspirations and themes, from "Ancient Rome" to
"Tropical Rain forest", but the final products were all of
similar cutting and sheer fabrics, only in different colors.

Furthermore, it was depressing to witness some beautiful
pieces lose their impact when layered on top of tie-dyed pattern
after pattern, creating a loud, busy outfit. A particularly well
crafted and ornamented waistcoat, jacket or sarong should be
given due respect and worn without competing patterns.

There were some exceptional ensembles. Jeany Johannes imposed
large tie-dye patterns resembling sunflowers upon cream cotton
dresses. The result was a highly spirited and youthful collection
which utilized tie-dyeing as a technique of design, rather than a
means in itself.

Sahari, in a collection strongly influenced by Jean-Paul
Gaultier, sent models down the runway in tie-dyed leggings,
silver shirts and combat boots. This look may not have been
popular among the luncheon ladies in the audience, but it proved
refreshing amidst all the sophisticated suits.

Of all the other upmarket clothes, the sober but elegant
collections of Tatang Sudiyanto and Stefanus Hamie stood out.
Sudiyanto used tie-dye in a way that I am familiar with; random
patterns on earth-colored cottons.

Hamie, in contrast, opted for striking black-and-white designs
set against well-tailored beige viscose suits and waistcoats.
Hamie's designs seemed to be the sleekest and most accessible to
working women.

Industry

The tie-dye industry provides thousands of jobs to women in
Javanese villages.

Pras Sudjie, an aspiring designer who has just returned from
four years working in Milan, remarked that, "All the designers in
Italy get their tie-dye from Indonesia."

He added, however, that focusing too much on tie-dyed designs
could stifle the imagination of fashion designers. "You cannot
have all Indonesians wearing tie-dye, and you cannot have all
designers creating tie-dye", he sighed. "You have to diversify,
and allow for more individuality," said Sudjie.

It may have been a long time since long-haired disaffected
youth took to the streets expressing their individuality with
homemade tie-dyed t-shirts and jeans, but I still associate the
clothes with the counter-culture.

American hippies appropriated the ancient tie-dyeing
traditions of Asia to create their own particular expressions.
Indonesians may now be rightly reclaiming these traditions, yet I
still can't envision middle-aged ladies wearing tie-dyed suits
without thinking that a symbol of youthful rebellion has been
lost in its contemporary translation.