“The times they are a-changin’,” rasped Bob Dylan. He could be singing the soundtrack to the story of Pakistani fashion.
Surf back towards reviews of Pakistani fashion from about a decade ago and you’ll be swept away by glowing details of shows where fashion was akin to artistry, and a very exclusive selection of the country’s crème de la crème and top stars thronged to the front rows of catwalks. There were shows that were staged in unconventional locales: train stations and dilapidated historical sites. There was also talk, of how fashion was blossoming into big business. Major international journalists visited sometimes. And reviewers hinted at a very real possibility of fashion going international, and of style taking over the country’s consciousness, leading to a better dressed Pakistan.
Fast-forward to the present and local fashion is predominantly just pushing forward a bling-infested Pakistan. Shrouded in masses of tulle. Wearing a peplum, maybe. Or perhaps a kaftan. There is a jaded weariness lacing reviews of local fashion weeks. There are more bad collections than good ones. More atrocious designers than spectacular ones. Bucket-loads of badly fitted clothes created from fabric that you could easily purchase from the local bazaar around the corner. Lacklustre fashion weeks instead of spectacular ones.
This is hardly a good beginning to a review on the recently culminated ‘Winter Festive ’19’ edition of Fashion Pakistan Week (FPW) but it is a true one. Fashion’s scintillating dreams of bringing about sartorial changes and pushing boundaries have faded. They have been replaced by a droning deluge of collections that are often untidy, forgettable, same-looking, and seem like they have been stitched by the darzi down the road rather than by a designer atelier. The catwalk at FPW is a case in point.
“The times they are a-changin’,” rasped Bob Dylan. He could be singing the soundtrack to the story of Pakistani fashion.
The event spanned three days and I waited in vain, as fashion critics do, to spot sparks of brilliance that would lead me to declare a certain day to be the best one at fashion week. But there was no best day. Yes, perhaps there were a few collections — I can count them on one hand alone — that showcased clothes that were beautiful, but their impact was lost by the flotsam and jetsam that surrounded them.
Why was this the case? Commerce is an obvious factor. Brands want to show clothes that can sell rather than focus on artistic brilliance. These sellable, wearable clothes tend to be boring. The same economic factor leads to many brands backing out of fashion week — participation fees are expensive and, in these hard times, they decide to make do with exhibits and fashion shoots rather than go all out with a show.
At the other end of the spectrum, there are the designer heavyweights who now want to demonstrate their clout by orchestrating solo shows. They do this with great fanfare and attention to detail, building their image as luxurious, covetable entities. These brands once used to be amongst the top few at multi-designer fashion weeks, and the quality at these events now suffers due to their absence.