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.