Simple shapes, but luxury fabrics: Biyan goes minimalist
By Dini S. Djalal
JAKARTA (JP): It's 1996 -- do you know where your jewelry is?
Fashion's neophytes may grin while twiddling their gold baubles, but style zealots hide their glittering trinkets in Louis Vuitton trunks.
In the minimalist nineties, less is more -- so long as what you have on already costs a bundle.
Fashion's paradigms are being remodeled. Some designers still rummage through past fashion follies -- day-glo bell-bottoms and all, but a new generation is moving forward by simplifying silhouettes and abandoning accessories.
If clothes are becoming sparse, how does this new school channel its creativity?
Palette experimentation.
Today's collections may look the same, but they feel different. From rubber to rayon, tulle to tactel, polyamide to pony skin, designers are mining a wealth of fabrics.
The range is expanding -- textile manufacturers are busy creating new fabrics (even paper!) and reshaping old ones. Polyester, for example, is losing its itch, while woolen jerseys and velvets are getting lighter. Fashion's new motto may read: Don't look, but touch.
But what's on show still looks pretty good. At the first solo show in three years for Indonesia's acclaimed designer, Biyan Wanaatmadja, last week at the Gran Melia Hotel, the spectacle of 150 ensembles was spellbinding. More than a thousand fashion aficionados flocked to the show, which was part of the 24th birthday celebrations for Femina women's magazine. Pia Alisjahbana, director of the Femina Group, was full of praise: "I loved it! It was perfect for the active women of today, which is what Femina is all about."
Whether every active woman swears by simplicity is academic, but Biyan does offer a tempting proposition. At the show, there was no jewelry, few accessories and only simple shapes, but the models literally glittered as they walked solemnly down the catwalk in gold lame, beaded tulle, sequined lace, and white satin.
Here was fabric mining at its best. Biyan's minimalism is not new, but he perfected the marriage of simplicity and luxury in this collection. The only thing missing was a more Indonesian touch. Gone are the pastel florals and batiks of past collections, although his signature embroidered tulle still slips over satin sheaths.
What is new is lace -- also hot on European catwalks (black lace at Gucci, white lace at Helmut Lang). Biyan goes gold, sequined and layered. Models in Paris and Milan wore their sheer lace with nothing underneath. Indicating sensitivity to a more conservative consumer market, Biyan coats his lace -- trousers, tunics, and sleeveless gowns -- over cream satin or tulle.
Not that this graduate of the London College of Fashion is a prude. Pervasive in the show was that most dreaded fashion item: the tube top, or bandeau. If the shell or shirt is sheer, which it often is, the bandeau sits snugly to safeguard the model's modesty. But this tiny swath of silk does nothing for a flabby belly. Hipsters may be hip, but for those of us wary of the gym Biyan could have offered figure-flattering camisoles.
Yet in general, Biyan's clothes do not cater for the chubby. His silhouette is lean, lean and lean. Cigarette-slim trousers, pencil skirts, second-skin shirts and strapless gowns do not leave much room for a hot-fudge sundae. His outfits make women look beautiful, but their bodies must be beautiful to begin with.
Thankfully, there was calm after the storm of body-huggers. After the show opened with white satin bandeaus, there were car- coats, hip-length suits and printed shirts falling almost to the knee (doubling in utility as shirt-dresses). Biyan calls these bold flower prints, in apple-green, chocolate and mismatched colors with block patterns: "Bauhaus-style". The effect, however, is hardly utilitarian; these were brash but fun clothes for gutsy women.
And the rest? Biyan is not exempted from the grasp of European trends. There were glimpses of safari-style pant suits in drab brown, another sign of Prada's gripping influence on designers worldwide. Another set of prints -- green-and-white or brown-and- white checks -- were inspired, said Biyan, by "sarongs", but Prada's tweeds of last season were in similar patterns. Biyan individualizes these prints by shaping them into ankle-length caftans, although the Moroccan-holiday look was first seen at the Gucci show.
Style references, however, do not make Biyan's clothes any less lovely. His cut is superb, his finish is fine. His evening wear alone cements his reputation as a purveyor of feminine fineries.
Floating in intricate sequined embroidery and lace, first in browns and then in gold, the models were like pools of light. In flesh-colored versions of the same sheen and sparkle, they looked like wet nudes as the silhouettes followed the contours of their bodies. Nothing was extraneous, save a matching scarf tied around the neck or swung over bare shoulders.
The men, in gold pants, sheer shirts, and matching ties, were like G.I.s dipped in ore, sporting a combination of both masculinity and glamor. The men's collection was much smaller -- there were only three male models accompanying the 29 female models -- but it was given equal, if not more intense, attention. For example, only the men wore the great zig-zagged knitted shirts at the show's opening.
Biyan's catalog, however, features only women. Biyan himself refers to his style as "neat, smart, convertible, with a strong feminine touch". Perhaps the female focus reflects market trends, which underline women's shopping habits rather than men's.
Considerable marketing savvy has been Biyan's strength. Realizing the need for an identity rather than fickle fads, Biyan's style is continually evolving. "I don't veer far from my norm," Biyan said at a press conference. "I want to show a consistency of silhouettes," he said.
This consistency remains from year to year. Biyan says that adaptable separates rather than wild fashion is what consumers want. "The nineties is all about style in coordinates. It's about giving consumers a choice," said Biyan.
He says the days are over when designers dictated a person's outfit from head to toe. Career preoccupations urge consumers to look for clothes that are practical and good value, but also that express, not overpower, their individuality. "Consumers want something which is unique, but not out-of-this-world," Biyan said.
Biyan's practicality is evident in how he runs his business. This native of Surabaya is one of a handful of Indonesian designers who have opened boutiques alongside international fashion houses. Biyan has a boutique in Pondok Indah mall and another at Plaza Senayan. He also has shops in Citraland and Kelapa Gading malls and counters for his lower-priced Studio 133 label at every major department store.
Biyan says that the demands of retailing took him away from the catwalk for three years. "It was a calculated absence, because I had to concentrate on developing my outlets," he said.
Warning that Indonesian designers must focus more on retailing so that they won't find themselves empty-handed in the upcoming free-trade era, Biyan expressed his embarrassment on the unavailability of Indonesian designs. At the same time, he said: "Everybody knows that Indonesians are often the biggest customers overseas. Is there a place for Indonesian designers?".
Hoping that his show will make a difference in both raising his reputation and that of his colleagues, Biyan concluded: "Indonesian designers should be able to be a host in their own country."