Fashioning Diaspora Space: British Asian style

Work & Everyday Spaces

'I just treat the different styles as totally separate, I have completely separate clothing for everything. I have a work wardrobe where I don’t think [South Asian clothing] impacts in anyway.'

Working in a corporate environment Nina has developed a wardrobe which is appropriate for this environment and its dress codes:

'I wouldn’t wear Indian clothing to work only because of what I do[…] In a professional environment you need to be in professional clothing, professional dress. So I would rather keep it separate. In fact you actually look forward to dressing up when the occasion comes if you don’t wear it everyday.'

Like many other women, by separating the everyday work wear and the special occasion wear Nina keeps her interest and enjoyment of special (in this case South Asian) clothing alive and vital. This distinction between everyday and special occasional wear is a strategy deployed by a number of the women spoken to in these interviews with regards to South Asian clothing. This separation of clothing strategies negotiates and enables participation for these women in different areas of life. Ansuya jokingly refers to her wardrobe as harbouring her 'split personalities'. For work she wears trousers and western tailored tops but at home she changes into Indian clothing. She finds both comfortable and both to be an expression of her self, or of her different selves at different times in her daily life. She feels this stems from when she first arrived in Britain and wanted to be fully able to access fully British work and social spaces:

'I think when we first came here there weren’t many Asian people here. And obviously I did not want to stand out if I wore my sari. I wanted to be part of everything you know. And so I think that’s stuck with me, even now. I mean there are people who wear their own [South Asian] clothes, but I’ve never felt right wearing saris to work.'

Sumi too adapted her professional identity through dress when migrating from Sri Lanka to the UK. In Sri Lanka as a medical student a Sari was considered appropriate and authoritative in the context of a hospital. To access work space in the UK Sumi opted instead for western tailored garments, reflecting both a subconscious desire to fit in as well as the more practical considerations of her profession:

'I think subconsciously [the desire to fit in] must have played a part [in not wearing a sari] because I think as much as you want to stand out you also want to be part of the herd and be seen as you know, in the same gang. It wouldn’t have been practical either because I worked within a lab and had to wear a white coat.'

Women are of course motivated in their dress choices by the everyday practicalities of life. Another key consideration Sumi faced when dressing was her long commute: 'I had to travel from beyond Portsmouth into London on a daily basis Monday to Friday'. Dressing therefore in western tailored clothes enabled access to the work space, was reflective of her professional identity in the UK and was considered practical for her everyday life.

Wedding Memories

Wedding clothes are a method by which we might choose to express an idea of ourselves to others. At this moment perhaps ideas of functionality or convenience are secondary to ideas of display and presentation. For Momtaz, in projecting her future wedding attire, she would choose for a wedding garment something out of the realm of the everyday, a red sari with vivid gold embroidery. In fact she feels that this would be only time in her life she could imagine carrying this look off. In her everyday wardrobe Momtaz prioritises colour and individuality. Her collection of clothes houses a rich variety of colours, textures and fabrics, yet a bridal sari is an even more glamorous garment befitting this kind of moment. As she says:

'I’m sure the only time in my life I’ll wear one [a sari] is when I get married, I think that to me says wedding, you must get married in the sari. [...] It’s like an occasion and I would definitely go for a red goldy over the top, as nice embroidery as possible, I think it just suits a wedding really well and it’s the one time you can just look your most glamorous and everyone comes to see you, I think it just feels the right thing to do.'

Whilst reflecting our expression of self, wedding clothes also reflect the gifts of others. Brides are often gifted wedding saris by their new families. Reflecting on this, Nidhi describes special saris are a repository for memories of the times they were worn and the history behind them.

'I was given [a sari] on my wedding day – the sari which I changed into before I went to my in-laws house. It was not one I was going to wear, but one I had draped on. It was my Mother-In-Law’s and there is also jewellery to go with it – it was her mother-in-laws and she was given it at that time as well, sort of a family heirloom.'

For Sohini, her wedding outfits evoke wonderful memories too, but in this case of shopping with friends for her big day. That her wedding garment was chosen in conjunction with others illustrates that how we dress is often thought about through the eyes of others around us.

'[The] registry isn’t a great big affair with three hundred people. You know it’s just a small intimate affair and I felt that [a cream lengha] was far more appropriate. It is a bit plainer, just some embroidery around the front, not too much. You know, really nice, actually that is outfit’s quite special to me as my friends picked it out for me. I took a couple of friends shopping with me. And I’m terrible at shopping. I get fed up really easily whereas one of my friends is just shop till you drop! So they were great. It was one of the last outfits I tried on, and I was like, "Yeah okay, what do you think?", and they went, "That’s the one" and I said, "Are you sure?", and they went, "Yeah that is definitely the one". And so that was my registry outfit and I have actually worn that a few times afterwards, and I love it to bits …'

The above edited excerpts talk about fabric and clothes worn for everyday wear, work environments and special occasions. Garments are discussed as becoming something more than just items or fabric. Such clothes are able to become mementos of the occasion last worn, devices to make us feel good, or are befitting to the environment we find ourselves in. The emotive qualities of these garments are apparent, they can become heirlooms to be passed down and worn again, symbolic of their former uses and owner. They are material memories.

'Fitting in' & 'Standing Out'

'I wouldn’t say I’m the sort of person who needs to fit in but at the same time I don’t necessarily want to stand out either. If I’m going to a very Asian event then I’ll just wear something appropriate. If I’ve got a South Asian dress that I’m going to wear to a non-Asian event then I’ll just tone it down slightly, so that I don’t stand out.'

Clothes choices to Samia are informed by a variety of influences which speak to our numerous ideas of identity and self. Her use of South Asian clothing is a reflection of her transnational networks. Her everyday wardrobe consists of a combination of clothes brought in Britain and in Pakistan. Her wardrobe works in conjunction with her mother’s and her sister’s collection of clothes and is added to by aunts and female relatives in Pakistan. This fusion of collection practices reflects the fusion of identity expressed through her clothes. Samia does not think that as a British Asian wearing South Asian clothes necessarily speaks to a diasporic identity:

'I don’t think that wearing South Asian clothes means that you have a more secure identity or not. It might just mean that you get your fashion inspiration elsewhere. Maybe you’re following a different trend because we live here [in the UK]; we have cultural influences outside of our homes'.

Diasporic clothing practices can be articulated for Samia through both South Asian and British fashions.

For Kiran, this development of a personal look is not just about traditions or cultural norms; it is about the creation of new and innovative ways of dress which speak to the British and Asian side of her:

'[Dressing in South Asian clothes] It’s not a sort of hankering for what’s back there. It’s saying well there’s a rich tradition there, which you can change, it can morph with you.'

Equally, Sohini expresses her individuality in Asian dress by creating her own style:

'Well the very fact that I would be choosing to wear a sari of a certain colour maybe, or a certain quality means that I’m conforming to […] what people expect me to wear and what to do. And the way, the way that I would [express] my individuality would probably be in the design of it maybe, or the shade of it, and […] what I would choose to use for my accessories'

In addition to thinking about British Asian audiences when dressing in Asian clothes, Sohini feels she elicits appreciation from non-British Asian audiences. Sometimes standing out and fitting in collide and garments bring to mind the memories of these encounters.

'I think they just appreciate it. They just think, "Oh she, she looks nice". Hopefully they think I look pretty in this sari, hope they’re thinking it suits me […] Actually once I was going to a friend’s registry wedding and I was just getting the train and I wore a shalwar khameez, it was summer time and it was just really lovely pale lilac colour with silver embroidery on it, and as I got onto a train this old woman got up, she was an English lady and she said, "My don’t you look pretty" and I said, "Oh thank you". And it was my outfit and actually when I’ve been in the street a few times, you know, walking from one event to another or something, some people have sort of commented, "Oh that’s really pretty" or "You look lovely". And you know, English people, like young girls and they really like it. They really appreciate it and I think, I think a lot of people like the fact that you’re wearing it.'

Mothers & Daughters

Nina sees that relationship she and her mother have with their clothes as fundamentally the same. Whilst ideas of fashion or choice of cuts differ from person to person, from time to time, women through the generations wear Indian clothing with the same motivations. As Nina explains: 'I think the relationship is the same if you look deep down, but there are different encounters; you wear it in different ways. The concept is the same, it is traditional, you feel good, you are carrying on the tradition but I wear it because I like it.' Traditions and expectations are carried on but simultaneously a main imperative is more personal and revolves around how we look and feel in a chosen item of clothing.

Chandan sees her relationship with her mother was crucial in developing her relationship with South Asian clothes:

'Actually my mum took more pride in me wearing [salwar khameez] suits than I did […] It’s so funny, it’s really hard to explain that her eyes kind of used to light up if you came down wearing a suit…'.

Clothes that Chandan brought with her mother on shopping trips remain meaningful as material memories of moments spent together:

'Each of the outfits still reminds me of occasions spent with my mum, of us buying outfits together […] This was something we both got a lot of pleasure from, choosing fabrics together. I also remember occasions she wore some of the outfits that she made from these fabrics so for me it was just quite nice as one way of remembering her. These clothes were something important to her and to me.'

Other women also expressed how they kept clothes of a family member as a memorial to them. Ansuya still has the sari of her ‘Nani’ (her mother’s mother):

'She passed away when I was two and half years old. I’ve got a couple of her saris that I’ve kept […] I think I wore them when I first got them but they’re so fragile I don’t want to wear them now. I’ve just kept them and I think I’ll always keep them.'

'… not so long ago my maternal aunt passed away and we took one of her saris each. That was very special. I actually wore it for a religious ceremony, […] it kind of felt like she was there with me.' The biography of this garment extends beyond the life of its original owner, evoking memories of them when re-worn.

Mothers also offer suggestions, tips and advice on how to navigate a path through the different garments and clothing customs of South Asian fashions. As Sohini mentions, it is through consultation with mothers, aunts and female relations that one gains knowledge of appropriate garments for different contexts:

'You get a feeling for what is right to wear. And also, your mum probably suggests things or will say "Wear a sari." And if you said, "Oh, I might wear this lengha", and your mum would probably say, "Well I think it might be better if you wear a sari, probably be nicer if you wore a sari". And sometimes you know you do get comments like, "Oh why didn’t you wear a sari?" so you probably would work out what clothes are right to wear.'

A combination of subtle indicators and more direct persuasions offer a map by which a person navigates their way through these decisions and develops their own personal style.

For many women interviewed here the relationship between their tastes and preferences in South Asian clothing was significantly developed in relation to their relationship with their mother. Women kept clothing as mementos, found their mothers to be an ideal shopping companion and relied on their mothers to house in part their collection of South Asian clothes. This link to the maternal home perhaps illustrates another meaning to South Asian clothing practices. They might be seen to link a person to a set of traditions from South Asia, but they also seem to link these women on a more personal level to the home. These fabrics symbolically tie women to their familial homes and keep alive and vibrant connections with loved ones.

Reflections

Clothes pull in the world around us and help remake it our own. Through our wardrobes we develop a set of dress styles that express ourselves and say back to the world here is me. The dress choices described above both construct in Britain a cosmopolitan dress style that is worldly wise, but also draws the world close in making it personal. These wardrobe stories are simultaneously global, geopolitical and also personal, subjective and emotional. Moreover, the accounts developed in these interviews point to the limits of framing clothes, and diasporic culture more generally, around oppositions between tradition and modernity. Clothes are seen to signify memories, pull in families and link us in to social networks. They are also a site of innovation and improvisation. It is evident from the narratives above that ideological differences between ‘traditional’ or ‘Asian’ and ‘modern’ or ‘western’ clothes are not necessarily tangible in front of the wardrobe.

The use and engagement with cultural artefacts such as clothing expresses a plurality of identity and experience. British South Asians have worked with and challenged British sartorial ideas by the development of individual styles and relationships with British South Asian fashion. A range of fashion styles have emerged that are neither exclusively South Asian nor exclusively British, but exhibit and use references from both areas. The diasporean aesthetics created in Britain today are a distinctive expression of British ideas of self and social identity.