Touch Of Indian Summer

GIVEN the styles at the London fashion shows this year, Lata Mangeshkar’s voice hardly came as a surprise. Likkha hai teri aankhon mein, the Nightingale of India trilled as the spotlights followed a catwalk that is seeing more than just an Indian touch for the spring and summer collections for next year.

It may not quite be an Indian summer, but it is definitely more Indian than many other summers on the streets of Europe. White-skinned women may not be stepping out in saris or ghaghra-cholis en masse, but they could be draped in artistic innovations of the six-yard traditional Indianwear and the salwar-kameez. For, more than one trendsetting designer has succumbed to the Indian influence, which is waiting to unfold in their summer collections. And Europe, of course, will pave the way for America.

They may lack the elan of Paris and Milan, but it is the annual London shows that are probably more influential. London styles have a way of appearing on the streets that the styles of Paris and Milan don’t. Those are for the glossies, London’s are for the wearing. Lata does not sing for Giorgio Armani or Yves Saint Laurent unveilings. Nor do they send invitations wrapped around agarbattis (joss sticks), accompanied with a bag of poppadums.

Such proprieties are left to trendy young designer companies like Red or Dead, who have taken the lead in declaring Indian as ‘THE STYLE’ for the season. Their inspiration wasn’t far to seek—Southall and Wembley in London showed the way. Red or Dead designer Wayne Hemingway picked his models off the streets of Southall and worked on a collection that reflected a predominantly Sikh look.

And so models appear with hair tied in a bun and covered with a handkerchief. Clothes for men are ultra-casual—a Punjab look on London catwalks—folded trousers with loose jacket, Bata or Corona hawaii chappals for footwear.

Women appear in what critics called "diaphanous tissue jersey separates that married long and lean tunics over tiered, slim bloomers and pants". In simple words, the salwar-kameez. But it was the sari that stole the show. Swirl print georgette saris circling the waist, stoles above geometric knit blouses as pallavs. A great look, but pitifully, perhaps, not a great buy.

And while the western woman is unlikely to adopt the ceremony and grace of a sari, it’s an expression of fusion with never mind what. If everything sacred can be pulled off its pedestal, why not the sari? Isn’t one man’s sacrilege another’s creativity?

Japanese designer Michiko Koshino presented the grand finale, Indian style, sporting a bindi. Walking hand in hand with the star of the show, an Indian model dancing his way down the catwalk, Koshino presented her dresses in bright crushed finish, great to look at but almost too crushed for comfort.

More than the dresses, it was the shoes that were truly Indian. Male models wore plain hawaii chappals—now hugely more Indian than Hawaiian. Koshino models were well-heeled in formal Punjabi jootis, curled imperiously on the front.

Dresses meanwhile flowed towards looser, more free styles, vaguely Eastern in look. Precise silhouettes seemed out of fashion (Indian inspirations being great for those who can’t sport silhouettes). The Eastern look last prevailed in the ’60s. The ’90s have brought it back, in a less hippie-ish but not yuppie-ish fashion. Thirty years later, this is a more substantial otherness that’s not for the funky Woodstock generation but for the more integrated, if less adventurous, younger crowd. "A change has come in the whole design industry," proclaims Hemingway. And it has influenced the culture of the young. "You have Eastern influence in music, as the Beatles did in the ’60s, and in all sorts of ways." His own style, Hemingway declares, is "a fusion of cultures" to create "a new adventurous look". What you wear is not just what you are wearing, or even just somebody’s design. It reflects a point of time in the fast-changing world of fashion design. And, in a word, that something is ‘fusion’ through a West looking East.

Fashion pundits discerned the Eastern influence in European styles three years back. Says Hong Kong-based fashion critic Kavita Daswani: "I first noticed this at a Jean-Louis Scherrer (a French house) collection in Paris. I could have been at an Indian wedding...yards and yards of brightly-coloured chiffon, draped into billowing ballgowns, much of it heavily embroidered." Maharaja turbans and peacock feathers, she adds, were "quite cliched but visually spectacular".

But if fusion it is, nobody does better than the Italians. At the Milan spring shows this year, Giorgio Armani, "sent out delicate, lightly embroidered chiffon tunics and soft satin charmeuse pants," says Daswani. Gianfranco Ferre, she points out, "merged his signature precise tailoring with Indian exotica by creating Raj coats and elongated tunic jackets over pants." At the July couture shows in Paris this year, comments Daswani, "Yves Saint Laurent wrapped shimmering mousseline sheaths like saris around his models—utterly exquisite." Japanese designer Moschino created dresses bearing images of the Taj Mahal.

The Eastern inspiration came naturally to international designers who emerged empty-handed or with recycled designs when they dug into their own archives or styles within their cultural limits. "The trick lies in not becoming chiched or typecast," says Daswani, "it works best when it’s subtle—a dash of embroidery here, an elongated tunic there."

The Indian touch has pervaded some few autumn and winter collections as well. Lezley George went Indian with some of his styles for their autumn and winter collections this year. And presented a look that’s conservative by today’s catwalk standards. Near-nude models are so routine that they seldom create a stir, except among photographers lined up for the shots. "Breasts are so boring," declared one British fashion critic some time ago. "These loose, flowing styles are so much more refreshing."

The Lezley George winter collection has a salwar-like trouser outfit, as also knee-length near-saris. There is no ‘particular’ Indian look, but an attempt to foster an Indian feel about the garments—light, casual and loose. The Eastern influence is apparent in the laid-back attitude, a refreshing breather from the expensively strait-jacketed red-necked look of the ’80s.

How well the sidewalks reflect the look of the catwalk will be apparent only in the coming summer. The catwalks have presented Indian ideas, even if they are exaggerated for emphasis. Few will turn out in exactly those outfits, just as one least expects an expensively dressed model to head towards the railway station. The ‘diaphanous’ veils around the legs may well become wraparounds, while the more conservative may sport a jacket for that covered look. In more Indian ways, London catwalks seem to be looking to the least un-Indian summer for some time.

But the summer is likely to throw up more than simply Indian influences for those seeking them. If it’s real fusion, one shouldn’t be able to discern where the West ends or the East begins in couture. One may not have to be a universal citizen, but one can have a universal style. And so will come together the lad from Guru Harkishan Public School and the hip along the Champs d’Elysses. And one won’t have to say ‘haute couture’ even once.