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.