Around the World in 80 Dresses

At many places on my travels in Islamic countries I encountered sign boards enforcing the veil. The reality is not far from the sign boards I saw in Kuala Terengganu, East Malaysia, and in Abu Dhabi: everywhere women in black abaya and hijab like shadow images. Any colour is denied in public albeit there are variations of black. It all depends on who and where. Elegant ladies in a mall in Dubai, mother and child in holy Qom or the more modern version of the two girls in Tabriz, both Iran, black is the dominant colour. Felicia Engelmann titled her book on Islamic fashion in big cities appropriately Dresses make people, veils make women . In 2016 Dolce & Gabbana advertised a trendy collection for Middle Eastern customers showing a model in embroidered black wearing fancy sunglasses and handbag. © Dolce & Gabbana In Kuching in Malaysian Borneo with their strong Chinese and indigenous minorities the rules are less strict even in public service. Colours ...

When in Hongkong do as the people from Hongkong do. That’s what I thought. So, first thing I bought a couple of ample jackets, silk, cotton, flowery, in subdued colours, whatever. And I went to a tea house to taste fragrant Chinese tea. No, I was not ashamed to behave like a silly tourist. I got that Eastern feel I had longed for.  I didn’t care that hardly any fashionable young Hongkong lady does wear these heirlooms any more. They may remind them of their grandmothers’ attire. That’s why one finds most of them at vintage shops.    New ones are the asymetric black jacket from Taipeh and the black and pink from KL.  The latter softens the boyish look of my flanell bermudas from Comptoir des Cottoniers.   I just like the comfort of those ample jackets so much. Any boring black pant gets a new life combined with a lovely Chinese top. Try it.

  As to see beautiful sarong-kebaya combinations you will have to travel to Bali. This island so distinctly different from other parts of Indonesia is imbued with Buddhist traditions. I had the chance to attend a royal funeral in Ubud and to witness this important event where a gamelan orchestra played, ladies wore their finest and a sarong seller offered her ware stored in a bundle on her head.   In Malaysia the sarongs are called songkets .  The main techniques are batik (see also post  A New Take on Batik, March 18 ) and ikat . Ikat is the name of a long process of binding the yarn to resist colour and dying it several times to obtain the pattern. Sarongs are now mainly confined to dancing performances and museums.  I bought the batik cloth with the blue flowers from Tiga Serangkai Design in Eastern Malaysia and the black and brown one in Malaysian Borneo from Sarawak Design. In the olden days my red sarong with the golden threads would ha...

The sarong with a tightly fitted blouse used to be the everyday outfit all over South-East Asia. Now, it has given way either to Western fashion like in Thailand or to Islamic attire like in Malaysia and Indonesia. The sarong and blouse or kebaya (see post Betty's Kebaya, June 24) is often reserved for ceremonial events or for women working in the tourist sector.   Only the Buddhist country Myanmar and Bali, the Indonesian Buddhist province, are holding on to the tradition of beautiful sarongs. You just have to look at Myanmar’s political icon Aung San Suu Kyi and you can see how becoming this uniform is.     Have you ever tried to row a boat while standing on one leg only? The fishermen on the Inle Lake in Northern Myanmar are performing this acrobatic act every day. I took a boat on this beautiful lake to visit the Khit Sunn Yin Lotus Weaving Centre perched on stilts over the waters. The Lotus weavers still practice hand weaving for traditional sarongs....

  I met Betty at a coffee shop in Singapore’s Thomson neighbourhood where she was living. She hails from a Eurasian family, the smallest ethnicity in this cosmopolitan city-state. Her Portuguese ancestor married a Chinese lady and they stayed in Singapore ever after... Once Betty invited me for New Year’s Eve to celebrate with her close knit family. With our chopsticks we tossed the traditional salad from its huge bowl into the air as high as we could. The winner would have good luck for the year to come. Later on we exchanged presents in little bright red parcels and played cards. Behind the façade of their sky scrapers and glitzy malls Singaporeans are traditionalists and love to spend time with the family clinging to their customs in a speedily changing environment.   When I unwrapped my present I was thrilled. I found a beautiful kebaya which had belonged to Betty’s mother. In the olden days Singaporean Eurasians and Peranakans of mixed Malay-Chinese parent...

Le pays des couleurs /The Land of Colours was a childrens’ book my daughter got for her French lessons when she was a litte girl. There the grey earth was gradually occupied by colours, the green frog, the yellow butterfly, the red rose. In a sari shop in India I feel like entering this magic country. I prefer living in colour said David Hockney and moved from his native Bradford in England to sunny and colourful California. So do I. I like black and white, grey and maroon every now and then, but I somewhat pity Parisian girls who seem to think they have to wear black and grey exclusively as a sort of fashion code. We forget that we also wore colourful suits and dresses not long ago. Even the men did. Look at 18 th and 19 th century paintings with their silk in gorgeous pistachio green, dove blue and pastel pink. Francois Boucher, Madame de Pompadour, © Alte Pinakothek, München, info@pinakothek.de Wherever Indians live there is colour. I sample Sari shops from Dur...

The classic white linen dress seems to hint at lazy days on a promenade at the Mediterranean coast sipping a fruit sorbet and admiring the yachts in the harbour. Instead orang-utangs climbing the trees of the rainforest are coming to my mind. I bought the dress at Mango ’s in Kota Kinabalu on Malaysian Borneo of all places.                                                                                                          Shopping may be globalized  but my memories are not. I can still feel the sticky heat on my arms, smell the scent of the spices wafting from the stalls at the road side and see the passing Malaysian women in their elegant sarongs. Happily, we still have to go places to experience the wo...