'The Other': Orientalism in Fashion

Smart. Stunning. Supine. Asian.

Having stolen hearts in Netflix’s Squid Game, Hoyeon Jung graced readers on the cover of Vogue’s Feb. ‘22 edition. On the cover, Her Louis Vuitton dress shines with ambition, while the luminous matching cape cements her look with an overt diversion from her perceived femininity. Her look is striking and brimming with confidence, filled with surety and undertones of apotheosis. Previously a model, Jung was taken by surprise at her growing fandom, and even more so, appreciation by the public-eye for her untraditional taste in personal style which she has described as “a little more traditional and grungy.” Her look reflects this, a simple Henley top with a pair of washed jeans, yet it speaks to her incontrovertible sense of individuality. What are the social nuances and implications of Jung’s “self-described tomboy-ish” choice of garments?

Jung’s denial of the stereotypical, oriental view of Asian women is daring and tenacious because she refutes the colonial ideals that have shaped society’s perception of her. Her subversion of modern feminine styles is particularly counter-indicative of the narrative of Orientalism, a social theory presented by Edward Said in 1978 which describes the exoticization of Asian culture and in many cases, the dehumanization and delegitimization of the developing world. This fetishization is particularly salient in the fashion industry, which is steeped in colonialist and imperialist ideals. The issue runs deeper than capitalism or the patriarchy; rather, it bleeds into the very fabric of this racial tapestry. Even through the terminology of “Asian,” colonial narratives are pushed in the commodification of Asian culture—Asia is not a monolithic group, but a group of more than thirty nationalities.

An example of fashion-based fetishization is the geisha of Japan, and by extension, the ubiquitousness of kimono (着物). The silken garments are over 1200 years old, and are the pride of Japanese culture and heritage, yet they are fetishized by the West for their association with exotic females, when in actuality, kimono literally means anything ‘that is wearable’ in Japanese (kiru - to wear + mono - thing). These portrayals have persisted into our time, manifesting in multiple forms in the fashion industry and outside. Be it through the mystique of what the East has to offer, or simply what the West cannot attain culturally, the aestheticization of Asian culture is shocking.

This ornamentalisation of Asian women evokes Said’s definition of “inertia”, specifically one where the Asian woman “never spoke of herself, she never represented her emotions, presence, or history” (Said 1979). This narrative plays into creating the duality of Asian culture in a state of passiveness and exotic primitivity opposing the ‘sophisticated progressiveness’ of the Occident. Jung’s fashion choices are a protest to the expected garbs and identity of the South Korean female, and urge readers to push the boundaries of reasonable fashion, regardless of their ethnicity or stereotype.

Oriental discourse in couture is not a new idea. The Met Gala was infamous for its 2015 China: Through the Looking Glass theme, in which houses like Yves Saint Laurent transformed Chinese garments into Western ‘masterpieces’. The exhibition truly stood as a monument of the silencing and invisibility of Asians (which is not a monolithic group, but rather, a group consisting of 30+ nationalities), wearing chinoiserie sewn with the colonizer’s thread. According to Andrew Bolton, curator of the exhibition, “When you posit the East is authentic, and the West is unreal, there’s no dialogue to be had.” This goes hand-in-hand with the Orientalist belief that the East contains much more knowledge and culture than the West, according to Said.

By giving into the fantastical and otherworldly narrative of Chinese fashion, the meanings behind the construction and purposes of the garments are lost in a chaotic tension between the forbidden sensuality of the East (mimicked by houses like Dior and Givenchy through the use of select Chinese fabrics in Western-style cocktail dresses), and eroticism ( displayed by Balenciaga and Maison Martin Margiela through the use of ancient styles of Chinese dress draped in brocade and organza to reveal a Sinitic paradise). These views of China are extremely problematic in and of themselves, but should be met de rigueur even more so when we consider the Met as one of the foremost museums of artistic and historical exhibition in the US. It’s baffling how exquisite yet crafted a lie like China: Through the Looking Glass can be, especially in defining Chinese fashion and femininity through the lens of orientalism, even though the narrative applies to much of the East (Indiennerie, Turquerie, Egyptomania, Bohemianism).

While Jung wasn’t the first to defy these stereotypes, her aesthetic intelligence and defiance are extremely meaningful to the larger mission of recognizing and unlearning the colonial mindset because fashion has carried these notions since it began; for Jung, a South Korean woman, to eschew these confines is a potent remark against the status quo of the industry. Fashion can be our means of unbridled dissent and disapproval of the Western conception of Asia and the depiction of her culture. As a young Asian person engaged in contemporary culture, Jung makes me confident and refines my identity as a “fashionable” individual to dismantle racist systems through my learning through spreading awareness and bringing unperceived issues to light.

Idiosyncratic. Ostentatious. Disruptive. Asian.

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For more on the relationships between western fashion and orientalist influences, please read Adam Geczy’s “Fashion and Orientalism: Dress, Textiles and Culture from the 17th to the 21st Century”!