ARE LOCAL DESIGNERS TOO GOOD FOR US?

Many of us really want to support the local fashion industry; not as a favor to local designers but because we simply love the clothes. The fact that we are boosting local businesses in the process is a bonus. 

The problem is we have no idea where to buy locally designed clothes.

There is 36 boutiques, which is one of the very few online stores that offer a limited range of some great local designers; its convenient, the website is simple to use, its safe and I can buy a dress at 23:00. 

Parkhurst in JHB  is the other place where you can find cute boutique stores that carry local designs.
I really don't know any other places in JHB that offer a wide range of local designers under one roof.

I feel like there is a missing link between the consumer and the designers. 

Fashion is a business like any other; the number of units sold multiplied by the price per unit gives you your turnover. Therefore to increase your turnover you need to increase the number of units sold.  You can increase the price, but only to a certain point as consumers will only buy a product at a certain price range..My point is if designers need to sell products to customers to make money why then is there such a gap between the two parties...

Are designers already selling enough?

Which stores carry local designers? And why don't designers have websites with their latest lines and more importantly where to find their latest lines? I'm not talking about a long list of stockist that at most times don't event have the latest merchandise..I am talking about a real time link with accurate information of where to buy a particular piece.
This may not apply to all designers but certainly applies to many..

Let me give at least three examples:
1. Faeeza Khan's fab shweshwe print skirts were featured on Elle magazine some months ago; I called around, googled, came up empty handed..I did however find her fabulous blog during the search(:

2. Again some months ago, I went to a fashion show courtesy of Elle magazine; there were some lovely Christopher Strong dresses I had to have..Looked around, went to Parkhurst, called the company; All I got was sorry we are based in Cape town..*sigh*

3. More recently I saw a wonderfully floral Thula Sindi dress to die for on Grazia magazine; I called the stockist's number.. and it just rang unanswered..I really love this dress so I tweeted the designer himself..

You know that feeling..like you are the only one who wants the relationship? Are local designers too good for us?

Check BBM..

I had lunch with a friend I hadn't seen for a while. After 2 hours of greatness, we said our goodbyes and went our separate ways. Almost immediately I reached for my BB and I put up a status update: “Thanks for lunch, had a gr8 time *bbm kiss*” I did this, even though I had already told her what a wonderful time I had just minutes before. I was surprised at the incessant need I seem to have to share every great moment with everyone. It turns out I am not the only one with this affliction; minutes after my departure  my friend  also put a bbm update about lunch. LOL.

On a daily basis I subject my friends on BBM with daily updates of my life from a great cup of coffee to a the horrible Jo'burg traffic, most times accompanied by photos. Where is this need to journal and share mundane details of our lives with everyone coming from? My need to document my life began in high school when I started keeping a journal. I soon realized in Varsity that if something is private, do not plaster it on a book that you leave unlocked in a room shared by 3 girls. So I dumped dear diary and kept my feelings to myself.

Then came social media; this is a different kind of documenting. This is almost like writing an article about an hour or two of your life to be viewed by all 300 of your “friends”; therefore everything said is neat, cute and tied in a bow. If you are to post photos, only the ones that resemble a younger Naomi will do. Social media is really there to show everyone how fabulous your life is; Lunch at Tashas! Just bought a new pair of shoes-(have got to kick this addiction); Beautiful flowers from BF-(look how great my life is). It’s all superficial; it may all be real but our lives are not an episode of sex and the city all the time. Truth is no one wants to put something real on a social network; no one shares the pain of a cheating boyfriend, or the shame of sinking into debt or what an ill advised plan it was to have 4 kids.

I’m not bothered by all the sharing whether factual or fiction. When something great happens sometimes you just want confirmation; you want someone else to say “Wow that is wonderful!” What we put on these updates is reflections of what we wish our lives were; what we are striving for. Lots of shopping, a great relationship with God, a perfect partner who surprises us with weekends away and cute lunches drinking cocktails with great friends. Maybe if we pretend long enough,  one day we will have all these things... in that order. Good luck with that!

BIKINI @ THE BEACH!

The summer holidays are not complete if I don't go to the beach..it’s a culture I grew up in. Sometimes I find myself craving the smell of the ocean, the sound of the waves crashing vengefully against the rocks and the snow white colour of the waves. The excitement of the looming beach visit is unfortunately marred by the recurring dreams I'm having about the dreaded bikini. In my dreams I mostly just curse the French for inventing this so called "emancipated swimwear"..

Every year I buy a cute two piece with the naive intention of wearing it and bearing all at the beach, and I always end up wearing just the top with shorts. The two piece bikini feels a little too much like underwear to me..and don't forget the fact that it also looks very much like underwear. This is not a question of body image or whether you are thin or fiercely real; for me this is a question of comfort...

Some women look and feel great in a two piece bikini; but for the rest of us going to the beach in that 'state' can be a nightmare. 

 I could not understand why the fashion world embraced the bikini so warmly and why they would call it emancipated beach wear. It just seemed to me that a random man a long time ago, decided to put a woman like so many times before in a skimpy little two piece to prance around in. This may sound like the ramblings of a feminist; and maybe they are. I cannot ignore the overwhelming presence of bikinis in every clothing store indicating to me that there is a high demand for this scanty swimwear, and that many women may not share my sentiments.

I started thinking that maybe the emancipation is not of the two piece swim suit but of the woman who has the choice of whether or not to wear the two piece swim suit. The very existence of the bikini may feel like an insult to some, but the emancipated woman knows not to feel pressured to wear these briefs. She is also smart enough to know that if it doesn't feel good, it probably won't look good either.

I have not waged war on the bikini, and I have not written off swim wear altogether; Once I got past the fear of the swimsuit section, and looked beyond the two piece I found some wearable beach wear.

The kaftan is the most useful of the lot in my opinion; you can cover up before and after the dips, or while you bask in the sun.

I am going the one piece route this year..and will be keeping the fabulous kaftan close by..

MIRROR MIRROR ON THE WALL, WHO'S THE SKINNIEST OF THEM ALL?

It’s no secret that popular culture celebrates the ‘thin’ and associates them with being happy and beautiful. This misconception has somehow been entrenched in our brains, so much so that the very thought of 5 more kilograms in our bodies is enough to send us into a deep dark place. I recently went into such a dark place when a lady at the canteen innocently commented that I had put on weight; she said “unonile” (you've gained weight) with a misguided enthusiasm. Those few words sent me into shock followed by an immediate wager of war against food, and in seconds I went from “happy” to insecure and miserable.

As the voice in my head was outlining a boot camp-like exercise regime and eating plan for the next few weeks or at least until those pesky 5 kilograms fall off; I realised how willingly and easily I become unhappy. I was reminded of an ancient Hindu saying that "the mind is maya" (mad). According to this  ancient belief  the mind will actively seek circumstances and reasons to make it unhappy. I couldn’t help but feel my mind had indeed gone mad; I was having a good morning until my mind without my consent decided to make this woman’s comment the "falling of the sky". At that moment I made my entire existence about a number on the scale, I reduced myself to something very small.

The obsession with being thin however tacit, is present around us. This calorie counting preoccupation is un African; this can be proven quite simply by observing any grandmother’s reaction to a few extra kilos on a beloved granddaughters butt. These extra kilos are met with praise and pride, and seen as a true testament of the said granddaughter’s happiness. So then it appears the obsession with being thin is a new age phenomena amongst Africans. Fashion has certainly played a big role in the rise of the skeleton age, with models that are too thin giving the impression that those gorgeous clothes are made only to look good on the thin. Every other advert on TV seems to depict a thin seemingly happy person; magazines are also not without blame.

What baffles me is how all the fiercely real* ladies I know don’t spend their days counting the number of calories they have consumed, or obsessing over how much of those calories must be burnt off. I’m very envious of how unapologetic these ladies are, they don’t base their beauty on a number nor do they base it on the unsolicited opinions of others. These fiercely real woman carry a few extra pounds and they are not asking  anyone for permission or approval.  

This to me offers conclusive proof that self esteem, self image and confidence have very little to do with what the scale reads and more to do with one’s internal image and sense of self. 

Our definition of what beautiful is cannot be left to others to scope out; we must be in a position to tweak and tweeze this definition as we choose. We the descendants of voluptuous women like Sarah Baartman have a beauty incomparable to any other; and any attempt to align or match it to others does a great injustice.

Instead of watching the scales like a hawk lets watch our blood pressures and sugar levels. I personally am tired of the weight watch, and to quote Jessica Weiner; “Life does not begin five pounds from now”

* Fiercely real <Ladies with curves and owning them>

THE HAIR ISSUE

A discussion amongst friends on facebook got me thinking about the hair issue, and with some doubt I decided to blog about it. I know a black girl’s hair is not open to any kind probing, unless the discussion revolves around how great the hair looks and how one can get one’s hands on it. 

The facebook discussion was not focused on hair alone, it interrogated the “beauty” standards women and men put on African women. Weave your hair; lengthen your lashes so you will be beautiful. Is this our definition of African beauty, was the main contention. This reminded me of a recent article on British Vogue tackling a similar debate. The article titled “I AM NOT MY HAIR” tackled the controversial; do I weave because I’m trying to be white question. The hair issue at hand seemed to be the question of whether as Africans we see our beauty as somehow associated and intertwined with our hair?  The other underlying motion is whether I am less African when I weave or straighten my hair? 

The wigging and weaving of hair is a practise as old as time. The ancient Egyptians wore wigs to shield their shaved, hairless heads from the sun. Black Supermodels like Naomi Campbell wore wigs and later weaves to protect their hair from the constant styling that was abrasive to their afros. Many women weave for convenience; but we cannot deny that there is usually an intended consequence of beauty when one “gets one’s hair done”. We also must admit that there are Africans who believe the closer to western you are is the closer you are to beauty. These poor souls are lost. One woman braids her hair; the other weaves, then shaves all her hair off and at some point dreadlocks it.  If the woman’s beauty that glistens on the outside reflects her inward state then who cares what hair she has on? *Being black is not a matter of pigmentation - being black is a reflection of a mental attitude.

 

^{*Steve Biko- I write what I like}