IS IT A TREND OR IS IT THEFT?
The international fashion industry has been accused of appropriating African cultures, writes Rea Khoabane
UN secretary-general Ban Ki-moon told Vogue magazine in 2012 that Africa does not need charity, it needs investment and partnership.
When it comes to the fashion industry, top brands Vivienne Westwood and Stella McCartney of Britain, Australia’s Sass & Bide and Italy’s Ilaria Venturini Fendi have been running initiatives and working with African communities to create patterns, prints and designs inspired by the cultures of the Kikuyu, Maasai, Samburu and other East African ethnic groups.
But such initiatives have led to controversy. In the past five years we’ve seen international luxury brands like Louis Vuitton commit what is called the “appropriation” of culture from the continent. In 2012 the luxury brand was accused of exploiting the cultural identity of Kenya’s Maasai, with their famous red and blue checked robe, the shuka, in its Spring/Summer men’s collection.
This month New York University held a three-day conference in Johannesburg, Black Portraitures, where speakers discussed topics like African history, identity, gender, art and preservation of African fashion from “global misappropriation”.
But does Africa need such conferences, given that African culture itself is influencing the world?
Locally we have designers such as Laduma Ngxokolo and Sindiso Khumalo making inroads in the global fashion world with clothes inspired by their Xhosa and Zulu cultures.
Author Hlonipha Mokoena, an associate professor at the Wits Institute for Social and Economic Research, prefers the term “cultural appropriation” to “misappropriation”, saying that the latter implies that there is something amiss in such appropriation.
“Cultural appropriation is the borrowing, in whole or in part, of elements from another culture without acknowledgement,” says Mokoena. The best analogy is plagiarism, in which one writer presents another’s ideas as their own.
“There is nothing wrong with borrowing and using other peoethnic ple’s cultures. It is when it is not acknowledged that it becomes problematic,” she says.
Kenyan leader and elder Isaac ole Tialolo is chairman of the Maasai Intellectual Property Initiative. Together with the Washington-based Light Years IP, an NGO which specialises in securing international property rights in developing countries, he has been travelling around Maasai regions in Kenya and Tanzania holding meetings and workshops to assist to preserve the Maasai aesthetic as a brand. The plan is to create an assembly of Maasai elders trained in intellectual property who would act as a legal body negotiating with companies via a licensing agent, to enable the group to develop its economic rights.
Mokoena believes the tradeoff between “taking” and “benefiting” is a difficult one to think about, especially since what is usually being “taken” are ideas and images that are not subject to traditional copyright conventions. “The reason why so many cultures are susceptible to being ‘appropriated’ is that there is no protection against this,” she says. However, she questions the very notion that there is something called “African culture” that needs preserving. “There are many instances of African culture that are themselves the result of Africa’s contact with the rest of the world — Dutch wax print, seshweshwe and maskanda music. “These are African not because they are originally African, but because they represent the African creative consciousness of improvisation. They are African because they have been given new meaning and life in Africa. Therefore, what needs preserving is not ‘African culture’ but Africa’s limitless ability to improvise,” says Mokoena. There are countless examples. Dutch wax print became popular in West Africa when Dutch trading vessels began introducing the fabrics in the ports of the region in the 1800s. Today these colourful prints are synonymous with African dress. Seshweshwe gained popularity in the Eastern Cape and Lesotho after 19th-century German and Swiss settlers imported the blaudruck (“blue print”) fabric for their clothing. King Moshoeshoe I was presented with the fabric by French missionaries in the 1840s and popularised it. The Zulu musical tradition of maskanda is believed to have emerged after guitars became available in KwaZulu-Natal and self-taught players developed its unique sound.
Even the Maasai shuka had its origins in tartan introduced by Scottish missionaries and traders.
Before their country was colonised, the Maasai would have worn cow skins reddened by soil.
South African trend analyst Nicola Cooper, a specialist in the mix between globalisation and the local called “glocalisation”, believes fashion is by nature an exploitative industry.
“Fashion has always used culture, subcultures, and countercultures to sell garments — from hip-hop to skateboarding to gender fluidity or androgyny, S&M or sadomasochism, to feathered headdresses, Catholic rosaries and wax print. And it is not just luxury brands who are doing it, fast fashion constantly appropriates.
“This is how fashion has alShe ways operated. Unless there is a seismic shift in the very framework that is the fashion industry, this will not change,” says Cooper.
believes there has always been a tremendous interest in African fashion, and in Africa fashion is big business: the combined apparel and footwear market in sub-Saharan Africa is estimated to be worth $31-billion (about R438-billion), according to Euromonitor International.
Africans need to understand their own cultures before trying to preserve them, Cooper says.
Recently South African fashion photographer Trevor Stuurman was endorsed by Instagram for his brilliant work as an advocate of African fashion and culture.
Yet two weeks later, he received a formal e-mail from the social media site telling him to remove his photographs of Himba women because they were “inappropriate”.
Stuurman had photographed the women from northeastern Namibia in traditional dress with their hair covered in red ochre and breasts exposed.
This is the same social media site where celebrities such as Kim Kardashian post their nude pictures, which are then labelled as “pop culture”.
This prompts the question: who gets to decide what is culturally appropriate and according to whom?
“Popular culture has always relied on cultural appropriation,” says Mokoena.
“Pop culture relies and depends on novelty for its viability and appeal. Every pop star and singer has to release an album of ‘new’ material or they will be out of business.
“The problem comes when pop culture borrows from black culture for the novelty value, and as one writer put it, doesn’t even contribute to the replenishing of this stock of black creativity,” says Mokoena.
“The explosion of social media has allowed more people to be vigilant about appropriation and to call designers and creatives out if they are engaging in such appropriation,” Mokoena says.
Stuurman believes it is essential for cultures to preserve their cultural identity.
International trendsetters think they can pick and choose the bits they want to portray. “African culture is not good enough, just a piece of it.”
But the reality is much more intricate and dynamic.
“From the bold prints to the bright colours to the intricate beading and weaving techniques, right to our infectious energy and our fierce courage, it’s a whole package,” Stuurman says.
Popular culture has always relied on cultural appropriation Many instances of African culture result from contact with the rest of the world