Sacred Costume...the example of the Salwar Kameez

This week's thoughts were inspired by a dream I had a few days ago, of discussing with a friend her reluctance to wear a Salwar Kameez, as she is a White American, and wasn't sure that she should. In real life, this friend has lived in India and wore them everyday for a period of her life, and feels comfortable in these suits. I am not sure why I had the dream, but it brought back to mind conversations I had in college about how "white people shouldn't wear locks", and intrigued me to think more about the things swimming around in my subconscious...

Just for arguments sake, we can say that the basic reason one could be opposed to my White American friend wearing a salwar (or sari, or....), is that the color of her skin puts her in a class of people that sort of represent past and present wrongdoings of other whites (american, british, french..) who take power over a country that is not theirs. Colonizing, leaving in serious disrepair and pain, and stealing, are big huge issues that can be stirred up when strong pieces of culture, such as dress, are appropriated.

It's tricky. It depends on a lot of things, and each circumstance is different. I don't agree for example, that "whites shouldn't wear locks". Because locks don't belong to Rastafarians, or even to Black people, and not even to an oppressed people. Locks themselves, have been appropriated over the years, and their message changed, depending on who is wearing them.

However, there is something to be said for sensitivity for those who do take such an act as a co-opting. For the most part I also take that with a grain of salt, because the truth is that we are ever more global, and increasingly share space with people of all cultures. Much of the time it just seems that having such distinct lines between dress codes only helps create more visual separation between cultures that are learning to live together.

Where I live in Italy there is a significant Bangladeshi presence, and I know that the local Italians are more comfortable interacting with immigrants in Western dress than with those who dress traditionally. A part of me wants to reach out, experience their cloth, their movement, their space. Another part of me wants to just appreciate it from afar, respect the traditions and leave them to their own people.

But why should they have to dress differently to be accepted? Is it just about the nature of humans to fear what is different? If I were to live in a non-Western country I would expect to alter my dress some, or would I?

I am curious where the line is between pop-arting Mexican Catrinas, wearing an embroidered Mexican Tunic, and eating Mexican food. Being from California, none of this feels strange to me. So I can assume that for my friend who has a personal relationship with India, things are fairly similar. But, how is she viewed by a traditional Indian woman? Is there anything left over from British colonization lingering in her subconscious? Would it matter if my friend were Chinese and not White? Does it matter to her at all?

It seems some interviews are in order...

In the meantime, here are some videos to stir your thoughts and your funny bone, as well as your heart. The first one speaks to the subject at hand.



The second one is the cutest DIY video I have seen in a while. I wish I could understand what the woman is saying, but the whole scenario with the toddler and sewing a salwar on the floor, just too good! It's all so familiar :))



And the third video is really for next week, when I may not be able to post. A hearty subject that doesn't really need commentary, but inspires at least, I hope, one to think, to picture, where clothes are born. Who is making your clothes? I encourage you to support work you believe in.

Confessions of a Shopaholic, or how we stuff our style

The movie is a run of the mill romantic comedy, with funny fashion twist. Slightly less dramatic and moralistic than the Devil Wears Prada, and definitely inspired by Sex in the City. All in all it's a nice ride for someone who relates to Rebecca Bloomwood's main predicaments, which are being in thousands of dollars of debt, and obviously, being addicted to shopping.

I won't give anything else away, but I will tell you my favorite part: A scene where Rebecca's internal shopping monologue is exposed. At this time we are privy to the secret world of rationalizing as she lusts after something in a shop, while also having totally maxed out her credit...

“You do not need a scarf”

“Then again, who needs a scarf? Just wrap some old jeans around your neck…That'll keep you warm...That's what your mother would do"

“The point about this scarf is that it would become part of a definition of you…of your psyche..You’d wear it with everything”

“It would be an investment”

“You’d walk into that interview confident and poised”

The film is written comically, but it really shows how our emotions, past and present self worth can be wrapped up in style and fashion. Really, most of what we buy when we are giving in to shopping impulse is just more stuff that we don't need, but feel in the moment is somehow imperative to our happiness. And then, withing a week (or even an hour), the purchase is forgotten, and we do the same thing over again. And truthfully, an addiction to shopping has nothing to do with fashion or style. They can be symbiotic, but each can live just fine without the other, too. (Think of all the other crap that is cluttering up our lives and emptying our wallets!)

I do a fair amount of window shopping, and there is this insane monologue happening all the time...

"Just looking for inspiration. You know you are not going to buy anything. And who else is paying for this? Who made this? What about you handmade pledge? It's so cute. Do I have to feel bad if I buy something here? Go to the Ethical Shop. That's even less affordable. Make it at home. When? And this fabric is so cute! Aren't you just being a victim of current trends? So what. Is that bad? I like it. Do I really? I don't need it. I don't need anything. Do I need anything?"

And on and on. A lot of it is me trying to analyze the impulse to acquire new pretty things. How it makes us feel better about ourselves. And how it depends on this low feeling that comes from not having, which means not "being" somehthing, or someone, special. Playing fashion plates at a very high cost, giving way precious parts of our body, mind, spirit connection. It all seems utterly unproductive to humanity.

Yet I have a hard time pursuing the argument fully because it seems so anti-fashion, which I am not. I love fashion. There is so much art to it and it is soo important. The culture of dressing the body obviously has a distinct relationship to the psyche, just look at how we do it all differently across the world. I think this part is VERY productive to humanity.

In the video The Story of Stuff, Annie Leonard addresses the subject of how we can be manipulated into feeling inadequate by not participating in the shopping and style engines. Our feelings of (perceived) inadequacy stem mainly from the advertising gears of the engines, and connect to our value as economic contributors. It's totally fascinating, and simple enough for a child to understand.

When I do my window shopping I also challenge myself to confront feelings of inadequacy that may arise when I see something I want. "Wouldn't I look more beautiful if I had that dress? Wouldn't it be helpful to my life to change my style?" Would it?

I truly think that sometimes the answer is yes. We need to remember to use style as a tool for self expression and inspiration. To not let ourselves be used, by fashion.

Alexander McQueen and the commoners

So, this month something beyond my wildest dreams is happening. Take one of your favorite couture designers, and get him designing for the big box store you spent the most money in as a kid.

Any guesses? Yes, that's Alexander McQueen + Target = ????

When I said beyond my wildest dreams, I did not mean I am running off to Target now (well, if I had one near me I might). I think I meant that for just one millisecond the world stopped, and I had to press the reset button. Okay. Healthy paradigm shift, I am always up for that.

H&M has already built its name on designer copying and collaboration both, as well as simply being an internationally shopped fashion mecca of sorts. Target is a whole different kind of Big Box. You can get hot dogs there, and shaving cream, and tupperware. I am not snobbing up here, just stating the facts. Does not the world shake at the fact that Alexander McQueen is designing for Tar-zjay?
Surely Mr. McQueen was quite aware of the press of all kinds this new relationship would garner, and I am very curious what the company's thoughts are. Is it all business? Is there something in there about narrowing the divide between elitist fashion and accessible clothing?

This is a perfect moment in fashion consciousness where you have the good, the bad, and the ugly all at one table. What do I mean? Well, raise your hand if you shop at Target...

A. I shop at Target because they have wonderfully low prices on clothes that work for me.
B. I don't shop for clothes at Target because it is not the fashionista haven I am accustomed to.
C. I don't shop at Target for anything at all because I prefer to support small shops/designers for all my goods.
D. All of the above.
And the answer is D. Yes. How many of you live this sort of tortured existence?

I don't think I can offer any closure on this subject just yet. In the meantime, tell us what you think about big box fashion...

(These photos were snagged from fashionisima, what seems like great blog, as far as my Spanish goes.)

Let's Dance

It's time! I am so glad you are here. Please, pull up your feet and a favorite beverage and get ready for something a little out of the ordinary...

Soon to make it onto the scene is the premier issue of Wrinkle! I am still learning some of the ropes, so if you know you are being featured or are just excited to see more, then stay tuned.

In the mean time, weekly content will now be a part of Wrinkle too. Let's have some fun!

In honor of fun, frolic, and all that may be deep or superficial, and is lucky enough to be both, a little David Bowie.