Pakistan fashion casts off ‘dark cloud’ of extremism
Designers Kamiar Rokni and HSY shed light on Pakistan’s evolution in terms of fashion.
Designer Kamiar Rokni says that his collections don’t intend to further any political agenda. PHOTO: FILE
PARIS:
Mention religious extremists to Pakistan fashion designer Kamiar Rokni and his irritation is clear. “One of the things we feel diminishes our work is whenever our story is linked to Islamic fundamentalism and whether we are doing this to fight extremism,” he says. “We’re not. We’re doing this for the business of fashion!”
Tired of the country’s “bombs and burqa” image, Rokni is far from alone in his desire to see fashion for fashion’s sake. Certain precautions are unavoidable, however, and the locations of fashion shows are never disclosed in advance.
“It’s the one thing we do to protect ourselves,” says Rokni who runs the House of Kamiar Rokni label with two of his cousins. “Apart from that, you just have to have faith and carry on.”
Fellow designer Hassan Sheheryar Yasin, founder of the HSY label, is equally keen to distance himself from any political motive. “We’ve been lumped up with a very bad, dark cloud that’s been over our heads... but this really isn’t our war,” Yasin says.
Extremism aside, the designers, who recently held a catwalk show in Paris, say Pakistani fashion is finally starting to establish itself. From an industry made up of just a handful of designers and models in the early 1990s, fashion shows attracting foreign buyers are now held regularly in Lahore and Karachi. Its leading figures are gossip column and glossy magazine staples and haven’t failed to incite controversy.
Designer Safinaz Muneer sparked outrage last year, when she told Hello! Magazine that Pakistani employees could spend 1,500 hours on embroidery and that “will cost you nothing.” However, the row failed to dent sales and the designer denounced critics demanding to know what they had contributed to the industry.
Rokni and Yasin, both graduates of the couture-focused Pakistan School of Fashion Design in Lahore, are evangelical about what the country has to offer, citing the Zardozi embroidery technique, which uses gold thread, beads and seed pearls to embellish fabric. “The world gets their embellishment done from India, but when you see the clothes that are hand-embellished in Pakistan, it’s inarguably some of the best in the world,” asserts Rokni.”It’s generally a South Asian tradition and the skills are very much alive here.”
The Lahore-based school, now known as the Pakistan Institute of Fashion and Design (PIFD), was established in 1994 with the aim of giving Pakistani textiles a competitive edge in the global market. Textiles contributed 7.4 percent to GDP in 2011, accounting for over half of all exports, worth around $11 billion. “Our fashion school was primarily to develop us into making value-added products for the textile industry, but our fashion industry also started to develop and flourish,” Rokni points out.
Yasin describes his clothes as “uber-masculine with a touch of contemporary,” summing up his signature style as “rock, royal, gent.” “That’s ‘rock’, for rock star, ‘royal’, for all the embellishments, and ‘gent’ meaning very classic,” he says.
And he dismisses the image of Pakistan as a place where men only ever dressed in the traditional shalwar kameez, as outdated. In fact, he says well-off Pakistani men in the 25 to 35 age group are increasingly interested in fashion, irrespective of whether they opt for Western or traditional South Asian styles. “Our clone culture, where we used to seem like clones in white salwar kameez, has started to fade away very rapidly,” Yasin adds.
Few would deny that Pakistani fashion still has a long way to go to reach even the majority of the middle class, let alone poorer sections of society.
But an appreciation of fashion can sometimes be found in unlikely quarters, adds Mohsin Ali, a member of the Hazara community from Quetta in southern Pakistan. Ali set his sights on a career in fashion after learning about PlFD from a television programme. But his father, a Muslim preacher, was horrified at the prospect of his son dressing women in revealing clothes and having physical contact during fittings.
“There was a little bit of a drama from the family,” he highlights. There was, however, such a positive reaction from Hazaras after media coverage of his designs, described by fellow designers as “ethnicity on speed,” that his father dropped his opposition. “It was a proud moment for me to represent the Hazaras, because the designs are inspired by the culture,” he says. “Now, lots of people go to him (my father) and say ‘we saw him on television and we are truly proud’. For him, it’s far more than working with girls, the whole meaning has changed.”
Published in The Express Tribune, December 15th, 2013.
Mention religious extremists to Pakistan fashion designer Kamiar Rokni and his irritation is clear. “One of the things we feel diminishes our work is whenever our story is linked to Islamic fundamentalism and whether we are doing this to fight extremism,” he says. “We’re not. We’re doing this for the business of fashion!”
Tired of the country’s “bombs and burqa” image, Rokni is far from alone in his desire to see fashion for fashion’s sake. Certain precautions are unavoidable, however, and the locations of fashion shows are never disclosed in advance.
“It’s the one thing we do to protect ourselves,” says Rokni who runs the House of Kamiar Rokni label with two of his cousins. “Apart from that, you just have to have faith and carry on.”
Fellow designer Hassan Sheheryar Yasin, founder of the HSY label, is equally keen to distance himself from any political motive. “We’ve been lumped up with a very bad, dark cloud that’s been over our heads... but this really isn’t our war,” Yasin says.
Extremism aside, the designers, who recently held a catwalk show in Paris, say Pakistani fashion is finally starting to establish itself. From an industry made up of just a handful of designers and models in the early 1990s, fashion shows attracting foreign buyers are now held regularly in Lahore and Karachi. Its leading figures are gossip column and glossy magazine staples and haven’t failed to incite controversy.
Designer Safinaz Muneer sparked outrage last year, when she told Hello! Magazine that Pakistani employees could spend 1,500 hours on embroidery and that “will cost you nothing.” However, the row failed to dent sales and the designer denounced critics demanding to know what they had contributed to the industry.
Rokni and Yasin, both graduates of the couture-focused Pakistan School of Fashion Design in Lahore, are evangelical about what the country has to offer, citing the Zardozi embroidery technique, which uses gold thread, beads and seed pearls to embellish fabric. “The world gets their embellishment done from India, but when you see the clothes that are hand-embellished in Pakistan, it’s inarguably some of the best in the world,” asserts Rokni.”It’s generally a South Asian tradition and the skills are very much alive here.”
The Lahore-based school, now known as the Pakistan Institute of Fashion and Design (PIFD), was established in 1994 with the aim of giving Pakistani textiles a competitive edge in the global market. Textiles contributed 7.4 percent to GDP in 2011, accounting for over half of all exports, worth around $11 billion. “Our fashion school was primarily to develop us into making value-added products for the textile industry, but our fashion industry also started to develop and flourish,” Rokni points out.
Yasin describes his clothes as “uber-masculine with a touch of contemporary,” summing up his signature style as “rock, royal, gent.” “That’s ‘rock’, for rock star, ‘royal’, for all the embellishments, and ‘gent’ meaning very classic,” he says.
And he dismisses the image of Pakistan as a place where men only ever dressed in the traditional shalwar kameez, as outdated. In fact, he says well-off Pakistani men in the 25 to 35 age group are increasingly interested in fashion, irrespective of whether they opt for Western or traditional South Asian styles. “Our clone culture, where we used to seem like clones in white salwar kameez, has started to fade away very rapidly,” Yasin adds.
Few would deny that Pakistani fashion still has a long way to go to reach even the majority of the middle class, let alone poorer sections of society.
But an appreciation of fashion can sometimes be found in unlikely quarters, adds Mohsin Ali, a member of the Hazara community from Quetta in southern Pakistan. Ali set his sights on a career in fashion after learning about PlFD from a television programme. But his father, a Muslim preacher, was horrified at the prospect of his son dressing women in revealing clothes and having physical contact during fittings.
“There was a little bit of a drama from the family,” he highlights. There was, however, such a positive reaction from Hazaras after media coverage of his designs, described by fellow designers as “ethnicity on speed,” that his father dropped his opposition. “It was a proud moment for me to represent the Hazaras, because the designs are inspired by the culture,” he says. “Now, lots of people go to him (my father) and say ‘we saw him on television and we are truly proud’. For him, it’s far more than working with girls, the whole meaning has changed.”
Published in The Express Tribune, December 15th, 2013.