ONE
Introduction: Creating African Fashion Histories
Politics, Museums, and Sartorial Practices
JoAnn McGregor
IN RECENT YEARS, there has been a surge of interest in African fashion among scholars, the media, and businesses in and outside the continent. Indicative of this new visibility was the opening of the Brighton Museumâs Fashion Cities Africa in the autumn of 2016. This was the first ever exhibition dedicated to the work of contemporary African fashion designers in a UK museum. It showcased the work of creatives from cities at the four compass points of the continent: Casablanca, Lagos, Nairobi, and Johannesburg. For the exhibitionâs curators, the focus on contemporary designers âseemed to offer a way out of the disciplinary and ethnocentric limitations set by our historic collections, which were largely amassed in a colonial context.â1 African material âtraditionally fell into the museumâs ethnographic (now, optimistically âworld artâ) collection. Unlike objects from certain parts of Asia, few African objects made it into the museumâs Fine Art or Decorative Art collections.â2 At the time of the exhibition, there were no African textiles to be found in Brightonâs fashion and textiles collection. Situating the work of African designers in the context of the continentâs rapidly changing cities provided curators with âa useful new directionâ and created an âexciting, dynamic backdrop,â not least because the cosmopolitanism and buzz of these cities had inspired the designers themselves.3 The prism of the city enabled the Brighton Museum to display âa wide diversity of fashion practices, from street-style to tailoring and coutureâ; moreover, curators felt it âgot aroundâ various difficulties of who constitutes âan âAfricanâ designerâ: âAnyone working within the fashion industry, in its broadest sense, in that specific city would count.â4
The exhibition thus not only rode on a wave of popular and academic interest in African fashion5 but the curators sought to use Fashion Cities Africa to confront the coloniality materialized by the historic holdings of museums. By exposing and seeking to repair racialized exclusions and the persistence of Eurocentric regimes of knowledge and representation, the display addressed issues that are also at the heart of this volume. The exhibition deliberately crosscut conventional museum divisions that depict the world of fashion as specific to the Westâs historical development, casting it, in Jennifer Craikâs terms, as a âmarker of civilization,â while treating African clothing practices as âdressâ or âcostumeââthat is, as static, traditional, and bound by social status and communal values.6 Its ânewnessâ exposed the extent to which broader museum practice in the West continues to reproduce coloniality and its racialized epistemologies. This despite the intensifying pressure to âdecolonize,â which has âmade decolonization an ever-present part of museum debates and increasingly also museum action plans.â7 The initiative showed how African fashion practices are themselves a âpolitical languageâ that can be âused both to constitute and to challenge power,â in Jean Allmanâs words.8 By drawing attention to the chasm between the dynamic world of sartorial practice and the history of museum collecting from the continent, the exhibition was clearly âgood to think.â9 But it was more than that, because it was also an attempt to transform practice, address the colonial past, repair its damage, and make the museum a more welcoming and inclusive space. It underlined both the urgent need for, and obstacles facing, efforts to bring about significant institutional change.
Creating African Fashion Histories is about the relationship between African sartorial practices and museums past and present. In the burgeoning new literature on contemporary African fashion, it is the first volume to focus on this intersection between fashion practices and museum work. This gives it a unique lens through which to explore the nexus between power, knowledge, and representation in both colonial and postcolonial contexts. Historicizing African self-fashioning in relationship to museum practice offers a new vantage point on collecting, institutional practices, classificatory systems, and modes of public display that have been closely enmeshed with colonial and postcolonial governmentalities. This relationship is particularly revealing, we argue, because of the stark disjuncture between the shifting currents of African fashionâas forms of embodied self-expression embedded in changing global markets on the one hand and the disembodiments, dislocations, and decontextualizations of museumsâ conventional displays and the racialized frames that colonial collections materialize on the other. This book has been written in the context of renewed pressure for change in academia, museums, and fashion schools following Rhodes Must Fall, the Macron report on repatriation, and the challenges of such activist networks as Museums Detox in the United Kingdom, Museums Hue in the United States, and the Research Collective for Decoloniality & Fashion.10 We do not aim to contribute directly to debates over what âdecolonizingâ means, but the chapters are informed by and speak to these discussions.11
This volume arose as a product of a series of initiatives on African fashion on the part of the Brighton Museum, which included the exhibition Fashion Cities Africa in 2016, a conference on African fashion history, and a project to build a new collection of post-1960 African fashion, in which the museum devolved decisions on purchases to a community-based panel formed of local people with lived experience of African fashion alongside academics (in which two of the editors of this volumeâNicola Stylianou and JoAnn McGregorâparticipated alongside arts consultant Edith Ojo, curator of world art at Brighton Museum, Helen Mears, and others).12 These initiatives followed criticism from local Black heritage groups, who had singled out the museumâs use of colonial-era African collections as particularly problematic and offensive. As Ojo, Mears, and Stylianou explain in the final chapter, these holdings were âperceived as a direct product of British imperialism: acquired under conditions of violence and evidence of the systemic subjugation of African peoples and their cultural practices.â The fact that these collections were mostly inaccessible, locked away in storerooms, was seen as a deliberate exclusion of Black people and was the cause of frustration and regret. As Divya Tolia-Kelly, Rachel Minott, and others make clear, museums are widely experienced by people of color as âunsafe spacesâ that invoke a range of difficult emotions, from anxiety and pain to anger.13 Colonial collectionsânot only those that are lootâpowerfully represent the failure to deal with colonial persistencies and racialized exclusion today. Researching, collecting, and curating African fashion histories, and doing so in a manner that was collaborative with African diaspora, offered a potential route forward for the Brighton Museum. The curators intended their various African fashion initiatives to address these criticisms and to work toward inclusivity and thus in the direction of decolonizing their own museum practice. The final chapter of this volume reflects critically on the extent to which the museumâs ambitions were achieved.
So why focus this volume solely on African fashion in relation to museum practice? Is it possible to research African fashion histories without perpetuating ideas of the continent as other? The idea of African fashion itself is problematic (as are any other regional qualifiers) given the deliberate innovations that define fashion and the premium it places on borrowings from across geographical and cultural boundaries. Moreover, top artists and designers from the continent define themselves in global terms rather than as African designers, as the chapters by Harriet Hughes and Beth Buggenhagen discuss. We argue that it is important to document histories of self-fashioning that have been denied in a manner that centers African agency and renders visible the depth and diversity of histories of style, situating practices within globalized interconnections. Rendering this history visible can help challenge stereotypes of the continent as âotherâ that continue to eliminate so much of the continentâs fashion history by deeming it inauthentic or un-African. It can reveal and disrupt colonial thinking manifest in the dress/fashion distinction. Essentialized stereotypes of African-ness and characterizations of the continentâs fashion histories as absent, shallow, exotic, disconnected, or derivative of the West stubbornly persist. They are upheld not only in museums and fashion schools in the West, but also within Africa, from South Africa to the Moroccan fashion schools and museums that M. Angela Jansen discusses in chapter 7.14
Figure 1.1. Fashion Cities Africa at Brighton Museum. Lagos. Photo: J. Pike.
By bringing together debates over museums and African fashion, Creating African Fashion Histories takes forward both fields of scholarship in a variety of ways. First, as the Brighton Museumâs initiatives and rationales suggest, curators have much to gain from a better understanding of and closer interaction with the dynamic world of African fashion. Writing on African fashion history, as we shall see, revolves centrally around global connections, modernity and hybridity, agency, self-expression, and embodiment. It demands attention to political, economic, and cultural contexts. The contrast with histories of museum collecting and display could not be more stark. Second, though perhaps less obvious, scholars of fashion and museum history can also gain from a better understanding of museumsâ dress holdings. Research on African fashion and dress history is notably longer established and better institutionalized in the United States than in Europe.15 Yet it mostly neglects museum sourcesâoften for good reasonsâwhile the now substantial body of work on empire and museums has had little to say about historical collections of African dress/fashion specifically.16 But collections related to the dressed body, and African collections in particular, are potentially especially revealing.
This because the dressed human body is such a potent means of personal and political expression; items of dress occupy the boundary between public and private, individual and social worlds.17 Joanne Entwistle, a founding figure of dress history, describes dress as âsituated bodily practices,â and as such, it is appear the very antithesis of conventio...