Fashion and politics go
hand-in-hand. We began our journey as a single nation
in 1947 and there, in the monsoons of that year, began
the possibilities of our nationhood. How we chose to be
and how we chose to represent ourselves took life from
the same breath. And as we journeyed on our tumultuous
political path, we saw fashion patterning our hopes and
our confusions. This series has explored fashion shows,
choreographers, photographers, stylists, models and designers
from the birth of fashion to date. Voices from the industry
vary – some are hopeful, others are disappointed.
But the industry has come to stand on its own, no matter
how precarious it’s balance.
Declarations of disappointment center on common areas
of contention. People from all walks of fashion find corporate
control of fashion shows, which are the culmination of
each designer’s collection, to be rather unsettling.
Choreographers do not like to have TV antennas balanced
on their models’ heads and feel that such touches,
far from being effective advertising statements for television
channels, only serve to degrade fashion; models are tired
of unprofessional undercutting; photographers struggle
against fixed ideas of beauty; stylists find limited creative
leeway; designers are hostage to financial backers.
Where notes of optimism rise, there is the general consensus
that, while plenty is wanting, plenty has also been achieved.
From homes to hotels, fashion shows have grown in scale
and in potential. Clothes are not borrowed from society
cupboards anymore, and models have moved from the status
of enthusiastic daughters who model for women’s
clubs to trained professionals who model for a career.
There is room for improvement in both areas, however,
and while some rest comfortably in their success others
realize that this is only the beginning.
Every fashion professional has their own story to tell.
They recount the personal defining moments of their careers.
For choreographer Imran Kureishi, that moment came in
1983 when Mussarat Misbah of Depilex recruited him for
a hair and make-up show, his first professional endeavor;
for Frieha Altaf, it came in 1989, when she organized
her very first fashion show, without the guise of cultural
performance, for designer Maheen; for photographers Ather
and Shahzad it came in 1994 when their stylized central
Asian shoot for designer Nelofer Shahid of Meeras appeared
on the cover of Libas featuring model Bibi in elaborate
garb. The most heartening expression of personal defining
moments comes from designer Imrana Ahmed of Body Focus.
After thoughtful deliberation she says, “The moment
is now”. There are others with their own tales,
but while some keep their gaze directed towards the future,
most are happy with their achievements and bask in past
glories.
Retorts against the industry from within are commonplace.
More often than not, they are well-founded. Tariq Amin
summarizes a major issue with his pronouncement, “This
work is about originality but we are amazing copyists”.
We are also amazing propagandists. What is more, we rehash
subjects so insistently that ultimately we are left with
nothing of value.” Mrs. Kazmi is refreshingly forthright
on this point, “Sab kuch tau akhbar walay poochh
chuke hain. Sab chhap chuka hai. Ab mein kya bolon? Sab
wohi hai. Andaaz ka badlao hai. Ab aur logon say beyaan
lain. Meri taraf say kuch kehne ko nahin bacha”.
The veterans of our fashion industry are suspicious of
its tendency to both over-quote and over-praise personalities
time and again in the press as well as of its tendency
to offer personal-agenda based criticism of fashion collections.
To them, our industry falters because we cannot distinguish
between talent and imitation or good press and shameless
propaganda.
While fashionistas oscillate between hope, satisfaction
and despair, fashion itself has undergone many transformations.
Of course, cuts, colors, fabrics and hemlines vary from
season to season rendering fashion a changeling by definition.
But something larger than these has happened that has
made fashion easier to confront. Some show disdain at
this change and the reasons for their displeasure are
sound, but the overall effect of such an alteration is
to my mind a progressive one.
Over time, fashion has translated prestige that was only
available to a select few, into couture for the masses.
In itself, the notion is a paradox, for couture denotes
high-cost quality attire accessible only to the very rich.
But the introduction of synthesized gold thread, sequins,
crystals etc. allow dresses to be worked to look like
the real McCoy, but at affordable cost. The downside,
of course, lies in the fact that designers charge a sizable
premium on dresses, which narrows the gap between the
couture of yesteryears and that of today. We, as a nation,
resent this extra cost. The response it elicits in the
average woman is, “yeh tau mein bhi banva sakti
hoon”. And as Tariq Amin so plainly points out “We
are amazing copyists”. We can easily pick up magazines,
find karighars and duplicate outfits at one-tenth the
price, if not less.
Which leads me to this conclusion about the state of fashion
in Pakistan: we are not short on vision, talent or finance.
What we lack are three specific things. First, we are
afraid of experimentation and miss out on the innovation
that results from it. Almost all designers here design
for the middle-aged woman. Young looks are something we
cannot do. Further, we cannot stray from ideals of beauty
that require women to come across as pretty, petite and
demure. Therefore, ‘looks’ have not evolved
over time.
Second, we are quick to dismiss, and quick to copy. This
discourages designers from working on casual chic, while
pushing them to work on bridal and wedding wear alone.
In their efforts to protect their work from plagiarism,
they set about reviving tankas that are difficult to execute.
This has the positive effect of reviving lost crafts but
it unforgivably sets fashion back.
Third, designers need to price their outfits better if
they wish to deepen the local market for their clothes.
They cannot keep relying on the 75 desis who live abroad
to sustain their careers. Their creative input must be
compensated but the price they attach to their labor mustn’t
be one that borders on extortion. If they provide quality
then their price tags are justified. But many get away
with using shoddy materials that shrink, stain, bleed,
and rip after minimal use. The quality assurance needs
to be tighter if couture is to be real couture. We have
come a long, long way. A little focus now, at this turning
point of our fashion industry can take us even further.
There are many rotten eggs in our basket, but there are
a few very good ones. Here’s hoping that we make
them count.
