Wwhaossylvia?

Remembering Singapore’s Renaissance woman, Sylvia Kho (1917–2013)

Thequestion posed in German composer Franz Schubert’s immortal art song, “Who is Sylvia?”, may be answered in this appreciation and retrospective on Singapore’s Renaissance woman, Sylvia Kho (1917–2013), innovator and entrepreneur in the arts of fashion, beauty and decoration. As Singapore’s foremost bridal couturier, creative, multitalented Sylvia could perform even the most mundane of tasks with a certain, unmistakeable Sylvian flair.

She not only changed the course of local sartorial currents, but created a whole new industry centred around one of society’s most important rites of passage – the institution of marriage, and she is wellremembered by hundreds of local and regional brides from the 1950s to the 1970s. Perhaps what is not so well-known is the other side of Sylvia… the story of a life nothing short of amazing.

Sylvia’s STORY

Many suns ago, at the invitation of local rulers, Hakka and Cantonese miners carved out uncertain futures – their yield of tin ore from the mountain ranges of the Malay Peninsula. Breaking their backs and fettered by indentures, these men from South China toiled amidst harsh tropical terrain. Kanching in Selangor, in the Federated Malay States (1896) was a tin mining and commercial centre, the seat of the Cantonese secret society, Ghee Hin Kongsi, whose name meant “the rise of righteousness”. Within this extraordinary setting, unfettered unions unfurled, free from familial constraints and traditions.

Hakka tin miner and rubber planter Wong Yat Hin didn’t conform in seeking a bride from his native South China. He had however, one unusual criterion – his

Sylvia Kho was Singapore’s foremost bridal couturier, innovator and entrepreneur in the arts of fashion, beauty and decoration

future wife had to be literate (obviously he needed someone to keep his books). She would subsequently act as his interpreter, conducting negotiations on his behalf to secure a dredge for his mine in Kanching.

Enter Chia Kim Siew, a Teochew Peranakan girl and a teacher who lived in Singapore’s St Margaret’s School, one of the few girls educated in English. The headmistress thought Kim Siew was of marriageable age and thus indulged in judicious matchmaking, pairing her with Wong.

Women of the Chinese Peranakan community (which developed out of early liaisons between Hokkien traders and indigenous women of the Malay archipelago since the late 14th century or so) were generally excellent housekeepers running their households with an iron hand (with or without velvet glove). Thus Peranakan women were not only skilled in needlework, but mistresses of their kitchens, concocting masterpieces of their complex, labour-intensive hybrid cuisine with a toss of spice or sprinkle of herb.

Needlework in her blood

Presenting three heirs and eight heiresses to the Wong family, Kim Siew ruled the roost in Kanching. All girls were given sewing and beadwork lessons daily. Discipline reaped rewards. Fifth daughter Sien Moy, or “Sylvia”, could from an early age draft, cut and sew a pattern by herself impressing her needlework teacher to such an extent that she was asked to teach her peers upon attending school in later years. She also sewed Peranakan-style bed accessories for the nuptials of her father’s estate workers. Her siblings were equally capable.

Their wise mother ensured that there was a time to play and work, and a time to pray. Her Christian beliefs firmly instilled in her children from a very early age shaped their characters and formed the cornerstone of Sylvia’s ventures. The five girls briefly attended Selangor’s and subsequently Singapore’s Methodist Girls’ Schools.

During the Depression, the family moved to Senai, Johor and they managed to attend school in Singapore where Sylvia ably looked after her sisters, a fact which was never forgotten in later years. Her entrepreneurial streak had begun to surface as she utilised her skills and love for sewing to support her siblings. Handmade Chinese-style “frog” buttons sold for two cents each. “Special” ones cost $5 each! She could sew Peranakanstyle slippers for men and women or embroider cushion covers.

The second world war

The arrival of the second world war touched Sylvia in a series of remarkable events.

Sinister 7 December 1941 marked not only the catastrophe of Pearl Harbor, but the landing of Japanese forces on Kota Bahru, Kelantan on Malaya’s east coast. The next day, the first bombs fell on Singapore causing 61 deaths and over 700 injured. Sylvia who then trained as a nurse at the then General Hospital, came face to face with the horrors of war.

From an early age, Sylvia could draft, cut and sew a pattern all by herself, impressing her needlework teachers

In these circumstances, as Sylvia’s family was in Malaya, going back was not an option. She, as well as the brave medical and non-medical staff of the General Hospital, soldiered on whilst artillery shells fell in the hospital vicinity. Medical staff, young medical students and nurses who were her friends were killed.

Intriguingly, it was the impending fall of Singapore that set in steady motion a sequence of remarkable events changing the course of Sylvia’s life. While wondering and praying over what to do, the thought of getting a steamship ticket to leave Singapore entered her mind. Desperate to join her fiancé Kho Hock Chiao in the Dutch East Indies, (now the Republic of Indonesia) Sylvia tried to get a passage on the last vessel out.

As she nervously queued up to secure a ticket, an elderly English lady in the queue at the ticket office fainted. Nobody helped her. Stepping forward to assist and revive her, she lost her place in the queue composed entirely of British nationals. One man refused to let her back in as she was Chinese. Her kind act did not go unnoticed and a staff member quietly handed her a ticket.

Afraid that she might not make it to the harbour in time to board the vessel, she panicked as air raid

sirens began to sound and bombs began dropping. Then seemingly out of nowhere, a British officer drove up and offered to escort her safely on board, straight to the Captain.

That night, the vessel was shelled by Japanese warplanes and began to sink. The Captain, a Christian, asked his passengers to pray, so down on their knees they went. Amazingly, the boat limped on for five days, and even as provisions and water ran out, they survived.

Arriving in Djakarta (as it was then spelt), she met people who helped her get accommodation and transportation to her fiancé’s family in Semarang. Her guardian angels continued protection there. Ever diligent, her time in Semarang after her marriage was well-spent learning dressmaking, cookery, hairdressing, cake decoration and other craft from Indo-dutch teachers setting the tone for future endeavours.

Leaving Semarang was as memorable as her arrival. The end of the Japanese Occupation of the Dutch East Indies brought about a period of instability before the formation of the Republic of Indonesia. As Sylvia was then a British subject, she left, standing in a truck along with three others all the way to the airport. En route, a hail of bullets hit her truck as it sped. Upon arrival at the airport, the driver, a British officer, told her her life had been saved by God, that he saw bullets flying by her and not hitting her.

“Saylacesandofferhersomeguipure...” whisperedbixiouingazonal’sear. (Unconsciouscomedians, -Honoredebalzac)

Back in Singapore

Following Balzac, Sylvia now back in post-war Singapore offered brides exquisite guipure and chantilly lace, ethereal tulles and the smoothest satins. Nobody had seen or felt such materials. The secrets of creating exclusive wedding gowns were gleaned from extensive study and buying trips to the UK, France, The Netherlands and the US. French lace manufacturers feted her, providing limousine services on the tarmac upon her arrival in France. Her purchases of lace pieces manufactured on small hand looms were veritable works of art, each pattern now no longer available.

Ever the consummate artist, she brought perfection to her craft by going not one but hundreds of steps further. The luxurious laces she acquired were not simply transferred onto gowns – each motif was individually cut out and repositioned on the gown she was working on, then ornamented with seed pearls or other decoration.

She introduced flexible stiffeners, then unavailable locally, for that full skirted “can can” effect needed in wedding dresses (her competitors used cane inserts which popped open if extra weight was added to the garment by way of a train).

The move towards a stronger Occidental influence in attire had begun. Every article she produced bore the “Sylvia Kho” mark of quality. Besides gowns, brides wore veils and headdresses, the last either imported or stitched personally by Sylvia. While her gowns have been showcased, her bridal accessories were in a class of their own. Hand-stitched headdresses of guipure lace flowers reflect her Peranakan training and heritage in their utmost delicacy, fine stitch work and liveliness.

To complement the whole outfit, Sylvia offered makeup and beauty classes and services, hairstyling and even made wax-flowers for headdresses. Never one to do things by halves, she opened bridal, hair and beauty boutiques around town in Outram Park, then Tanglin Shopping Centre and thereafter Orchard Towers, after initially working from her tiny bedroom in Tiong Bahru, where she simply transferred her baby from bed to floor, laid a plank on her bed and started to cut gowns.

Although helped by a team of seamstresses later, she personally cut every gown and attended fittings. Susan Chong, her niece reminisced that her aunt had cut her wedding veil freehand in a flash. Such was her expertise.

Sylvia’s creativity knew no bounds. Thinking out of the box, she realised that adornment extended beyond the bridal pair to their carriage, so she placed bridal dolls on wedding cars, now a practice taken for granted. Quickly spotting opportunities, she provided gowns for rent for budget brides. As she put it simply, “There was a need...”

Her clients evidently agreed. They straddled every stratum of society from VIPS to politicians and royalty to the girl next door. Her daughter Sophie recalled that if a bride faced financial problems, Sylvia would waive the cost of the gown or accessories.

Perhaps the most beautiful aspect of Sylvia was the God-given ability to help anyone – customers, friends, her staff or even strangers. Her businesses not only made brides beautiful as her tagline proclaimed, they were her vehicles for healing relationships and changing lives, thanks to her deep Christian love and concern for people. Her counsel, indeed, went beyond the dress. ag

Every article she produced bore the “Sylvia Kho” mark of quality, from hand-stitched headdresses to gowns and veils