Cultural Appropriation, Minimalism
and What We Wore.
By Leanne Ramnarine
I’ve been watching ‘Love Story: John F. Kennedy Jr. & Carolyn Bessette.’ My mom and I have been talking about the pressures women go through in life that largely go unnoticed. And I’m also thinking about Carolyn’s style. Understated elegance. I found a forum online about minimalism where women were likening their romantic boho days to that of an immature and tasteless time. Fun but throw away. I kept a flower crown from my boho days, and a few other pieces. The crown is hanging from a rolling rack in my studio. It’s innocent and pretty. This design doesn’t have any cultural ties; not all of the bohemian designs did. Some are just lacey, flowy and romantic. Others distressed and a little grungy. I think they are quite beautiful, actually.
I completely understand that sometimes we wear things because it makes us feel good, excited even if for a moment, more confident, pretty, etc. We wear things because we happen to like that particular trend or because that special something in the store window is anything but trendy. And some of us wear what’s utilitarian. Yet when the specific ‘boho’ trend arrived in the early 2000s, with women and girls clamoring to see what Sienna Miller and Kate Moss would wear next, and what Kesha would adorn herself with for festival season, many were donning items that looked beautiful and had an artistic, earthy and ethnic feel; it was widely accepted on white girls. Stay with me! This is not an attack. When many of the trends which actually stem from racialized and marginalized cultures are worn in their original and authentic state by people who hail from these cultures whether South Asian, Indigenous, or Guatemalan, these same textiles, pieces of jewelry and other adornments are seen as strange and all at once not as special, even cheap, tacky and too ethnic. I do see that many people wore these boho pieces rather innocently because they were trendy or because they just really loved the designs. If you have a beautiful or happy memory attached to it, that belongs to you. However, when we know better, as many of us do now, hopefully we do better. At least now we know that the sol called boho chic hand chain originates from India and I hope the wearer has a sense of appreciation for that. I hope we see that wearing a medicine hat or chiefs’ hat is not appropriate. And that when retailers were copying tribal designs from Africa and Native Americans, they were literally stealing designs. I have learned that ‘giving credit where credit is due’ means everything to the original makers of these pieces, to stay away from the items that are used in serious religious and ceremonial processions that don’t belong to your culture unless you are partaking in said ceremony and to ask my heart, is this cultural appropriation or genuine appreciation, when I make that purchase.
I completely believe that at times it is appreciation… so what if you are Caucasian or African American, if you feel akin to say, South Asian culture for reasons that are near and dear to your heart, you know its genuine. I’ve had a lot of Middle Eastern friends in my life and I can’t really go without their cuisine for too long without missing it. I also incorporate textiles from Kurdistan and have my eyes on woven baskets and glass ware from Palestine for my home. It’s a part of me and I don’t feel I need anyone’s approval. Recently I watched a YouTube video in which a women spoke of a gorgeous African American small accessories brand and how the designer feels it’s ok to wear fashion items from outside of your culture if you show real appreciation and to maybe tell people about her pieces. Have a conversation if an opportunity arises. Then you put a spotlight on the designer, rather than engaging in erasure. I was relieved when I heard this because I really want to purchase fashion pieces from black owned businesses. We live on one planet together, cultures influence other cultures. My neighbour’s daughter is Polish and she knows so much about Indian Culture. She definitely knows more about yoga than me and my mom and I, both ancestrally Indian and Nepalese, love to hear about her journeys to India.
Maybe instead of purchasing the ethnic inspired piece from a mass retailer, one could purchase from a fair-trade company that works directly with the Indian artisan of enchanting trinkets and block printed cotton, the African jewelry designer creating the most vibrant prints and regal statement pieces and the South American makers of glorious woven textiles. One thing that drives me mad is hearing people talk about their new love for minimalism (which I adore too) while referring to their boho teens and twenties as silly, even frivolous and the minimalist style, a reflection of their elegance and maturity. One has little to do with the other. Elegance is also picture of my mom in her red wedding sari and bhindi, which girls wore to Coachella, now relating it to their trendy, throw away fashion days. That piece of jewelry that you wore, associating it with something immature, wild and woo-woo? It is a cheap copy of an important piece worn by a woman from Rajasthan for her wedding. An elderly artisan worked her hands and heart to create the Mexican textile that a certain mass retailer of clothing copied for dresses and bags. And it’s been centuries of European designers copying Asian and African cultural clothing but taking the credit and being called geniuses. A designer for Prada was recently called out for this very issue. In some cases, designers have been very open about their sources of inspiration and have purchased textiles from artisans of the cultures that inspired them. Recently Western designers have collaborated with artisans from specific regions in developing nations. That’s not the case most of the time but I am always hopeful.
All I ask, as a person of colour, is for a little sensitivity and consideration. I wore some of those same pieces too and told myself that the trends were something different, a sort of amalgamation of South America and South Asia, with Western styles, for example. Something inspired, never quite looking like the original. But stealing designs? Making fun of those Indians with the ‘funny accents and food’ while enjoying and benefitting from your yoga class? Wearing the piece that actually has deep meaning to a racialized person but doing so with no respect? I have no right to tell anyone what to wear and how they should, and I know as a woman, we get really tired of being policed in every way, especially when it comes to the way we look. And believe me, I noticed that some of these special tribal designs and headdresses were worn by men too. They were made for the market, made available to us and for cheap by all of the main retailers. I’m not going to throw those pieces away, as we also have a climate crisis on our hands. The skirt with the tribal print will stay in my closet and I will do better. I certainly won't always get it right. Yet if something doesn’t feel right, I know it probably isn’t right to wear and I know that going forward.
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