Kuzu zampo la, y’all!
Squeaking in just before the skies opened up with 24 hours (and counting…) of continuous rain from Cyclone Montha which moved up from the Bay of Bengal to collide with a low pressure system from the Arabian Sea right over the eastern Himalaya, Bhutan’s first ever Fashion Week converted Paro town’s Main Street into a glamorous red-carpeted runway under unseasonable grey skies and light sprinkles.
Elegant spectators pause on the stage before the fashion show begins on Paro’s Main Street. Note Paro’s Rinpung Dzong providing a scenic backdrop in the back left.
October and November are typically the best weather of the year in the Himalayas, with summer monsoon rains leaving lush greenery as they clear for crystal blue autumn skies. Visitors flock to the Himalayas for festivals and trekking.
This year, however, the October festival season began with torrential rains on October 4 and 5 that raised rivers and swept away several villagers in Bhutan (two of whom were rescued in a seemingly miraculous recovery) and many more in Nepal and India.
I had hope to visit the region of the sacred Mount Jomolhari this weekend to scope out a potential research project, but watching the weather forecast, and particularly deteriorating conditions with the approaching cyclone which has now stranded hundreds of trekkers in Nepal and Tibet, I postponed that trip.
Instead, I fulfilled a bucket list goal of attending an international Fashion Week.
My two most stylish friends on campus were eager to attend.
Tshering and Helen were delighted to find seats close to the runway. Tshering is wearing a traditional outfit of kira, wonju, and toego, topped with a shawl to ward off the autumn chill.
Over the course of Wednesday morning, nine Bhutanese designers showed their styles, interspersed with musical interludes from some of Bhutan’s hottest musicians, like JD rebellious.
Organic colors
Bhutan is renowned for its ancient and sophisticated textile tradition. The dyeing and weaving of cotton, silk, nettles, yak hair, and sheep wool into textiles and clothing has been cultivated to an exuberant extent, reaching its zenith in the nineteenth through the mid-twentieth century when synthetic dyes began to replace the natural ones devised from numerous fruits, herbs, vegetables, roots, and leaves: indigo for blue and teal, lac for shades of red and purple, rose madder for orange through red, brown, and black.
Many of the styles built on this tradition of organic dyes and handwoven cloth, demonstrating how these earthy colors could be adapted to contemporary designs.
Flowing layers of indigo and vegetable dyed fabric by Namstitch by Namsay Dema
The kira is modernized in a blazer and full skirt in earthy fall tones that would look at home in New York or London. Note the embroidery of the endless knot, a sacred Buddhist symbol, on the gold skirt and jacket by Druk Lokpa
I adore the traditional stylized cloud designs on this rust skirt suit by Druk Lokpa
Re-inventing traditional textiles
Hand-dyed and handwoven textiles are then tailored into the traditional gho for men, a plaid robe with large white cuffs, tied tightly at the waist and ending in a kilt, and the kira for women, a single large piece of fabric wound around the body and secured with clips and the shoulders and a tight belt at the waist. Underneath the kira is a wonju, a silky collared blouse with no closure. The outfit comes together with the toego, a jacket held closed by a brooch. Central to Bhutanese culture, these traditional garments are required dress in government offices (including JSW School of Law) and at official events.
One of my favorite designs demonstrated a new way to wear the kira — horizontally and billowy, rather than tightly vertically wrapped — and topped with a bright blazer.
An elaborately woven kira worn horizontally, rather than vertically as usual, by Dakini by Jyenn
The designs on the kira are all woven into the fabric, which can take up to a year to weave
Another reinvention up-cycled an old, vividly embroidered kira into a vibrant jacket dress.
Jacket dress from antique kira by by Dakini by Jyenn. The family I stayed with in eastern Bhutan during my earlier research gifted me an antique kira similar to this one. I wonder if I should turn it into a jacket so it doesn’t languish in the closet.
The neck wrapped scarf is reminiscent of the rachu, a red striped and embroidered shoulder scarf that women wear over their left shoulders on formal occasions. The letters on this scarf spell out the sacred mantra Aum Mani Pede Hum
Another way to wear the rachu is as trim on a long, lean vest, as in this outfit by Dorothy Gurung of Druk Fashion House.
The kera, the embroidered belt used to tie the kira at the waist, also makes beautiful trim for a vest from Dorothy Gurung of Druk Fashion House.
Up-cycled contemporary fashions
Among the cleverest looks were those that riffed on traditional Bhutanese styles, up-cycling old ghos and kiras into trendy contemporary shapes.
Up-cycled gown, made from old ghos and kiras, by Ida Ghalley, a Danish-Bhutanese designer. Note the similarity of the textile in the gown and that of the Minister of Industry & Commerce in the chair behind the model
The back of the up-cycled gown by Ida Ghalley. A surprising aspect of some of the more contemporary looks is how bare they are. Bhutanese clothing is typically modest, loose, and covered.
A trendy and bare cocktail dress with a flowered hem made from fabric typically used for ghos by Yeshi’s Crafts.
A humorous cocktail dress riffs on Bhutan’s obsession with the chili pepper, showing a garland of chilis wound around the dress, by Yeshi’s Crafts. If not for the current storms, red chilis would be drying in the sun on the roof of every house.
Wonderful woolens
Though I am now a daily kira wearer for meetings and teaching, the outfits that seemed most wearable in my regular life were those that incorporated colorful Bhutanese textiles into simple classic shapes. The intricate patterns give such a dramatic lift to standard outerwear.
My absolute favorite was this gold lined black cape with embroidered trim - like sunshine peaking out from dark clouds - by Dorothy Gurung of Druk Fashion House.
My other favorite was this red coat with embroidered trim by SHE Bhutan by Gaymit
Kuensel, the national newspaper, posted a video on Facebook that captures the energy and creativity of Bhutan Fashion Week (unfortunately, the video doesn’t seem to be available anywhere else):
The interplay of age-old organic dyeing and weaving traditions with contemporary shapes was a fascinating example of the constant re-working of history with innovation, spirituality with technology, the artisanal with the prefab that is a constant and continually shifting dynamic here.
While the crowd was enthusiastic about the novel designs, friends and internet commentators grumbled about the lack of kiras and ghos in the show. They had hoped to see more stylish and imaginative permutations of the traditional dress, rather than wholesale reinventions for the international market.
Which raises the question: who is Bhutan Fashion Week for? The styles seemed to reach toward an international market more than the domestic one.
Bhutan’s textiles are so unique, intricate, and soulful that they surely deserve a market beyond the Himalayas.
In the age of fast fashion and instant gratification, can hand-dyed fibers and handwoven textiles find an international audience that values their rootedness in history and tradition? Will the Bhutanese market continue to value these handmade heirlooms?
As I departed Paro town to return to campus with my colleagues, one of them remarked that she herself had woven the kira she was wearing. Being unable to so much as knit a scarf, I was agog at her artisanal ability. There’s such power and self-reliance in being able to clothe oneself this way.
I was reminded of the time that I gave a weaver several hundred ngultrums (local currency) to purchase some thread, and told her that blue is my favorite color. A few weeks later, she provided me a simple, hand loomed, striped kira that I continue to wear weekly and treasure greatly because of its intimate history.
May you find color and creativity wherever you look until next time,
Tashi delek!
Rinpung Dzong at the edge of Paro town