Abstract

The V&A is one of the few museums in the UK with a dedicated hall for fashion exhibitions. This unnamed, circular room may not be as expansive as other stages in the same museum, but it makes up for its lack of square footage with an also circular mezzanine. This space has recently hosted shows about Mary Quant and Dior, and recently presented Africa Fashion curated by Christine Checinska. The exhibition focuses on notable designers from the continent, traditional and new techniques, the importance of fashion in 20th-century African and diasporic cultural politics, and contemporary trends. Checinska’s curatorial voice is evident throughout, especially when she criticizes the lack of African self-representation in the V&A museum until very recently (Checinska, 2022a). The exhibition covers a respectable seven decades, taking the independence movements of the 1950s–1960s as a starting point. Africa Fashion is a celebration of freedom that rejects European colonial standards by some of the most brilliant and capable designers in contemporary fashion and art. It is not only a long overdue effort in decolonialism by the V&A, but also a beautifully curated exhibition on a par with the shows of Western designers the museum has presented.
Upon entering the exhibition, we encounter not only fashion, but the critical importance of cultural and artistic production as such during the emancipation from European colonial governments. Establishing the socio-political context of decolonization is especially important for a Western audience that remains largely ignorant of the complex cultural realities of 20th-century Africa. By strategically mentioning prestigious events such as the first World Festival of Black Arts (FESMAN), attended by the likes of musician Duke Ellington and writer Langston Hughes, an international artistic landscape is revealed. This diasporic attention underscores the exhibition’s argument that the West’s lack of attention does not mean nothing was happening.
The theme on the first floor is historical context. The first fashion displays are dedicated to important traditional textile techniques and their cultural significance. A generous collection of samples for each craft is provided, allowing for an understanding of the variety and versatility of the cloths, weaves, printmaking processes and dyes. Our attention is then drawn to the works of historically renowned African fashion designers, such as Shade Thomas-Fahm and Alphadi. By showing samples of their couture creations and providing reference texts about their lives and craftmanship, a direct comparison is drawn to more famous European designers. It raises the question: so why is it that Vivienne Westwood is a ubiquitous household name, but not Chris Seydou? This question is ever present in the viewer’s mind, room after room, as dozens of unique, labour-intensive, breathtaking garments are encountered in awe.
The last room on the first floor is dedicated to fashion photography. On the walls, a few images by Hamidou Maiga are windows into 1970s Mali. The use of props and poses gives them a unique whimsy and an almost ironic, self-aware kitsch. They also, however, illustrate what high-concept fashion was at the time – high and tight denim bell bottoms, huge tinted glasses. The compositions feel like a reinterpretation of Western fashion photography through a low-budget but high-creativity lens – Wes Anderson meets Nollywood. In sharp contrast to the over-edited prints on the wall, family photo albums are displayed in their original form. Within these self-adhesive pages, we witness regular people dressing up for weddings and parties. The 1960s and 1970s trends such as mini dresses and bell bottoms are present but, even in the black-and-white snapshots, the patterns and textures reveal unparalleled handmade traditional textiles.
The upper floor of the exhibition focuses on contemporary designers. At the top of the stairs, in front of a metallic sequinned triangular backdrop, is a garment named A Dialogue Between Cultures, by Artsi Ifrach for Maison ARTC. The garment is inspired by the burqa, but is entirely covered in handmade embroidery of religious symbology and carries a Nelson Mandela quote. Described as a ‘bridge between historic and contemporary fashion’ (V&A Collections, 2021a), the piece sets the tone for what to expect from the new African fashion houses: attention to detail, precise haute couture craftmanship and a strong political message. A standout display is about the Ghanian textile tradition of Kente cloth: intricately woven colourful prints, which became symbols of pride in both the continent and in the diaspora. The colours carry specific meanings, and the warp and weft of threads create intricate patterns that are named for their significance to the weaver (Padilioni, 2017). The Kente is also praised as a form of silent protest in the initial stage of the exhibition, with a plaque celebrating it being worn by the Ghanian prime minister Kwame Nkrumah when visiting the White House in 1958. While there is little to fault in this exhibition, it could have benefited by having examples and display of Kente cloth inserted into the political context section.
The exhibition benefits from its experimentation with diverse means of showing its objects. An entire series of garments behind glass windows would probably tire the audience and diminish the possibility of individual pieces standing out. Africa Fashion is obviously focused on garments, accessories and textile samples, but it creates breaks through the use of video installations, photos and illustrations. By entering small rooms to watch a Lagos fashion week show, or to hear about a designer’s inspiration, affords the visitor a multi-sensory aesthetic and epistemic experience. For instance, projected on the dome of the upper floor, Who Dey Shake (Ogunbanwo, 2022) functions as a fashion editorial in a magazine spread. Trends and designers are mix-and-matched to create looks shown on models whose dancing is inspired by Bata and Yoruba traditions (Checinska, 2022b).
One of the lasting consequences of colonialism was the imposition of a gender binary. A quote by photographer Stephen Tayo sits on a plaque by the entrance of his own corner of the exhibition, focused on drag artistry: ‘Fashion holds more than aesthetic value for the Nigerian. Gender performance is one of the most prominent uses of dress, the rules we follow are perversions of a more fluid precolonial history’ (Tayo, 2022). The liberation of African dress from the Western gender binary is a theme of many designers shown. Brands such as Nao Serati do not acknowledge pieces as masculine or feminine, choosing instead to present iterations of workwear that mix aspects of male tailoring with exuberant fabrics and details more commonly found in womenswear (V&A Collections, 2021b). This ethos is also echoed by streetwear house Orange Culture. Designer Adebayo Oke-Lawal initially created the line to explore male vulnerability and defy toxic masculinity; it is now a non-binary brand (V&A Collections, 2021c). These contemporary examples echo the historical garments that start the show, such as the dashiki and khanga: clothes and textiles designed and engineered for their formal properties as well as their ability to communicate aspects of one’s social persona and cultural standing.
What the exhibition movingly and forcefully demonstrates is that sometimes a return to tradition is a tool for liberation and originality rather than the repetition of the same. This is certainly the case in African fashion, both then and now. By foregrounding what is perceived in the West as creativity, quality and prestige, an exhibition such as Africa Fashion challenges the stronghold that European and North American fashion markets have on the public’s perception of innovation in fashion. The invitation for direct comparison between a small selection between a myriad of African techniques and designers to those of more Western fame is a tool for decolonization of the fashion industry. Introducing the standouts of this underrated market to the British public contributes to the normalization of the idea of African fashion as on a par with the European haute couture scene. The support of such an influential institution in this effort cannot be overstated, especially considering the museum’s longstanding impact on curatorial practices worldwide. However, the commitment of the V&A to expand its curation from beyond the Western canon should remain now that Africa Fashion has ended its run.
