Disclaimer: firstly this is super long so if you are interested to hear what I have to say about specific issues there are some subtitles so feel free to skim through those. Secondly I’d like to make it understood that although my life is made more difficult by the expense of fees it is not made impossible so I am not effected to the same degree as some students. Thirdly I acknowledge I am white and therefore privileged and this will limit my understanding of this issues and hence what I have to say and I ask you to please keep this in mind while reading. Fourth – and finally – this is not meant to target any specific individual or group so please DO NOT TAKE THIS PERSONALLY
We Rise : A glimpse of the mass support that arrived at the meeting on Jammie PlazaOoh and all the photos are my own
Hi all,
I know I have been absent over the last couple of weeks but it is not because I have forgotten about the blog but rather that the topic which I wished to write on, South African student movement ‘Fees Must Fall’, was one which I have had a deep desire to write on yet one that I found extremely difficult to verbalise my thoughts on.
When I feel strongly about something I battle to give it justice in my writing. Eventually however I always suck it up and try my best in the end because the need for exposure and to put these ideas out there is greater than that of my creative inadequacies.
Oh Dear Lord: throughout this ordeal religious groups and leaders have shown their commitment and support to this causeI have been reading and rereading and watching and seeing things to do with the past couple of weeks that have invoked a series of conflicting emotions in me. I was horrified, terrified and stressed but also I was amazed, inspired and full of hope. Because of this, I could not sit and say nothing about the past couple of weeks. As someone who takes part in writing on a regular basis I needed to say write something of importance but it was so difficult to find the words to represent how I felt.
The #FEESMUSTFALL movement started at Wits University and slowly moved across the country till it was nationwide. It was originally a response to massive increases imposed on next year’s fees. These increases would make it even more difficult for most students to afford the already high costs of tertiary education especially those coming from underprivileged backgrounds. The expense of university as it stands already creates a separation between those people who can further their education and their futures and those who cannot based on socio-economic status and in a country like ours where race is a notable difference between classes (mostly due to the horrific racial segregation that existed in our past) this limits equality and economic growth of the majority of the country. An idea from the movement was that tertiary education should not be a luxury afforded to the rich but rather a right and an opportunity for all. This was part what pushed the movement to no longer be simply about the increase but rather that the government and the university management should be making plans and pushing to have free education on a university level to allow for the best outcomes for all young people in the country.
The movement bought disruption and inconvenience for some but for others in bought hope and unity. Below I am going to discuss some of the ideas/issues/talking points that have come out this period.
Police Brutality
Amidst the protests, the chaos and everything else that has occurred recently existed an extreme reaction from the police. Now before going into this I acknowledge that information around this issue has been portrayed with bias from all involved including the students, the police and of course the media and I have considered this as best as possible when forming my opinion.
See Me: it reads “Fuck the police”Now in my mind and what I have experience when involved in the protests is that they have been remarkably peaceful and many of those involved have taken a specific stance at maintaining the peace even among their peers (which I definitely respect about my generation). Aside from this there have been individuals, as is expected, who are extremists and those who have taken advantage of the situation and shown violence but for the majority the protests were NON-VIOLENT. Despite this there have been instances where the police have reacted aggressively.
I will focus on what occurred at UCT but it has happened all over the country with many students being attacked with water cannons, rubber bullets and stun grenades far too liberally but I don’t have enough knowledge to discuss these specific instances.
The first bout of violence was when students occupied Bremner/Azania House (managements building) and due to a court order by the university (this has since been lifted and apologised for) disallowing this disruption, the police were called. This was to remove the students from a sort of ‘sit-in’ type meeting both in and out of the building. The police struggled to remove those who were there and so responded with stun grenades. To my knowledge the students were not accommodating to the polices’ requests however they were non-violent and I honestly don’t see how this came about. It was a response which was far too extreme for the situation and lost the police any respect that the youth may have still held.
After this incident one might expect for students to react violently in response yet the peaceful approach was maintained.
It was then that the big event happened. This was the march on Parliament. The aim was for students to disrupt Parliament, where the budget policy was being addressed, to make the government aware of the students’ demands and force them to acknowledge and deal with it. There was a large riot police presence however the students still heavily outnumbering the armored men.
Other than a minority of individuals who were being violent most students remained peaceful. They did break through the gates into the precinct of parliament. Thousands of people moved into the open area enclosed by the gates. This was when they were then hit with masses of stun grenades. With only one small opening, many student were stuck unable to get out fearing for their safety and minor injuries did occur. Some students were also arrested (Side note: it is illogical to charge a small percentage with a ‘crime’ that thousands committed. This does not fulfill the ‘fairness’ of justice). From my point of view, and I was at home recovering from dehydration and glued to the live stream of eNCA, the violence was unnecessary and horrifying to watch. I was appalled, devastated and on the verge of tears as I watched people I know get tossed around like dolls and engulfed in a haze of white and pink smoke.
I can sympathise with the idea that the police were overwhelmed and the anger that the students were feeling could have both intimidating and frightening. At the point where the students became trespassers and broke the gate (and the law) it is possible that force would have been used however at no other time was extreme force of that kind necessary or helpful. The students were desperate but they were being peaceful and the ease at which the stun grenades seemed to be launched was alarming particularly since much of the crowd is shown to be standing still when they were attacked. The students were armed with water bottles, strappy shirts, shorts and sneakers while the police had batons, stun grenades, shields and heavy armor. Not really a fair match.
The use of violence against students mobilising for equal opportunity in education is reminiscent of South Africa’s dark past and definitely not something I thought I would see in my lifetime.
And on that note the lack of care and desire to come out and try and create peace from the president and other leaders situate right inside that building was frankly disgusting. There was no movement from our leadership to come out and protect their children and this is something I will always hold against them. It also gave plenty of opportunity for opposition parties like the EFF and DA to take advantage of the situation which the ANC couldn’t be bothered to even try do.
The white student (note this is where generalising happened – try not to get offended this may not apply to you)
One of the media’s big talking points was the ‘diversity’ in the movement due to the involvement of students of all races/genders/ethnicities/religions etc. This has had mixed responses.
Watching: Anonymous perched on Jameson HallThe first issue was that there were still many wealthy (mostly white) students who hid in their ignorance and did not take part, opposed the movement and didn’t even try understand the issues. There were students fighting as this was their only chance at still being able to afford university next year and alongside them were students who were so comfortable in their wealth that they wasted more money on flying home (or going to the beach in the first days of protests yet complaining about not being able to go to varsity. I see your hypocrisy holiday makers.). This showed a massive divide between socio-economic class and an extreme lack of empathy from wealthy students.
But adults, the media and everybody else were amazed by the uniqueness of our generation and the love and hope that we held and although the idealistic part of me has always believed this I had issues with this.
a – The movement stood for something important and in my opinion should have been appreciated regardless of how many white children got involved. ‘Whiteness’ should not have had to legitimise this cause for the media and for many of those who externally took an interest.
Fuck It: a protester expresses their frustraitionb – When it comes to the youth, white university students have been involved for a while. In the late 80s and early 90s protesting was a regular part of life for many young white people in the country. Students are more open minded, more involved and terrified of FOMO and so they take the opportunity. This is not to discredit the passionate involved white students. Please take part forever it is far more productive than you flying home for the week. Anyway my point is that I don’t think this says anything in particular about our generation. In my opinion it is when we are old and grey then we can see whether we are actually different. Will our dinner parties be diverse? Will we get involved with mining protests or support teaching strikes? Will we empathise with our peers or will we run away to Australia and criticise the government on Facebook? I think at that stage we can determine how different we really are.
c – The pat-on-the-back for getting involved. Ah… now I think its nice that so many people got involved and the strength of unity and mobilization of students was shown but I don’t like the fact that white students that got involved were thanked and commended but for the black kids it was just another day on the block? Thanks for the honour but you can take it back. Sure, welcome to the party kids but if anyone needs honouring it’s the black students for not giving up and persevering for the great length of time it took for us to finally decide to get involved.
Also a word on the Facebook education/rant posts on white privilege. Although these posts have been a little aggressive and motivated by generalisations I (personally) definitely see them as necessary. They are targeting those white (or other type) privileged students who do not understand how their role in this movement is limited or stipulated by their privilege as well as the importance of understanding one’s own privilege. Now those who this does not apply to, to the same degree as others, may get offended by this but it is important to not focus on yourself as an individual but the necessity of the overall white student population and realise the degree to which you have to monitor your privilege. Plus Facebook is as good a place as any for students to vent their feelings on the topic and it is important that as a reader one takes it with a pinch of salt. Read it, appreciate it and understand its applicability to you and then move forward as best as possible AND DON’T TAKE IT PERSONALLY.
Also watch out there will be a post on white privilege coming soon.
Beyond Us: in this shot Cape Town can be seen in the background and it’s hard not to see the power a group of this size can have. Glimpse the People: taken from on the roof of Jameson Hall
Government vs management responsibility
Who needs to be accountable for all this? The violence? The consistent fee increase? The lack of empathy or care for the future of the youth?
We are the People: Look its AllZuriIn my opinion the responsibility falls both on the shoulders of University Management and the government.
Simply put:
University management was not transparent, they did not put in enough effort into implementing solutions to reduce costs (FOR EXAMPLE SUSTAINABILITY/ENVIRONMENTAL PROTECTION/IS IT REALLY THAT DIFFICULT GUYS???), they did not take sufficient steps to hear out the issues of the student body and shifted the blame to individuals or student groups (as they have been doing the whole year) rather than help improve communication and deal with issues when they occur. It is the role of the Vice Chancellor and management in general to represent the students and their concerns to the government when necessary and it took them far too long to make take up this responsibility.
Balde, You ain’t so sharp: Blade, Minister of Higher Education, was held accountable by studentsAnd IF they did in fact do all of this and we just couldn’t see it then they really battle to understand the meaning of TRANSPARENCY and basically every VC in the country failed dramatically in this area.
And as far as the government. They did not show care for the safety of students, they showed little initiative in finding solutions for these issues and obviously the corruption and greed which exists within the political structures is still not be dealt with effectively. There is little to no role models in leadership which students can look up to and it is disappointing that a government in which most members were denied an equal opportunity to education at all from the previous Apartheid system are inflicting a very similar limitation on their own people.
Why is it that only when students are crying out and marching in the street and when the country is bought to a standstill do any of the ‘powers that be’ start to pay attention?
My role
So what did I do? Who was I in this movement? My friend and fellow blogger Refiloe Mokgele (All Zuri) wrote about the various people that could be found in and around this movement. As I read it I couldn’t help but categorise myself.
I’d say I am, as Fifi puts it, a ‘passive creative’ – “Taking amazing pictures/ writing poems as the masses of protesters pass by. Posting on social media.”
One thing about the movement was that it was insanely photogenic so I can’t even claim good photography skills here. I loved documenting and sharing the movement but I must admit I was one of many and although I am proud of the art that I managed to produce I can’t honestly say it aided the movement in any way.
Faceless: This is my faceless man. He represents the anarchistic, unidentifiable type attitude of the movement much like the mask did in V for Vendetta. She represents the good Samaritans who gave endless aid.Going into this I would have considered myself brave and involved etc. But looking back the truth of the matter is that although I believed in the cause and was passionate I also felt very lost and hid behind this confusion that I felt and spent too much time contemplating life in my room and not being outside taking part. Personally I have learnt a lot for myself and what I should do in the future but as far as this specific movement I guess I disappointed myself by not doing as much as I could have.
However on the days that I did go out (then falling into the category of Newbie) I enjoyed it but was definitely just a foot soldier/part of the crowd and it was weird for me to be surrounded by so many people as dedicated to a cause as I was, if not more dedicated. I was intimidated and in awe by what I saw and it gave me great hope for my generation. It humbled me as I realised that I really am very small and insignificant next to students, not that much older than myself, who lead a revolution. To those students I commend you and I apologise for my lack of participation.
What I did do (a lot of) however was explain very patiently too many of my ignorant white peers why this movement was worth and continuously forced people to consider the movement in what they were doing and made it my mission to be informed so I could inform others. I’ve always been better at words than action and I felt the need to do as much as possible from a vocal perspective (although this does not make up for not taking part).
Bread Break: Taken at Clarinus Village Residence UCT while protests take a moment to breath after walking down main road in 30 degree heat
The power of the youth.
This was probably the most important thing to note and despite its repetitiveness throughout history it is something which we as a country and internationally forgot about up till now.
The youth have innocence and they have passion and they have hope and obviously they have numbers. The youth has always had the ability to see things for what they really are and step away from the corrupted world that surrounds them.
“Youth is the trustee of prosperity” Benjamin Disraeli (1804-1881)
Amandla: There are no leaders, only strong voices to encourage us forward. Taken in Clarinus Village Residence UCT dining hall.
The future is the destiny of the youth and it up to us to control that destiny. We also have the energy and inspiration that our parents once had an already used up. South Africa is tried of fighting but we have never fought and we are ready to fight. We are called born frees and yet the environment we have lived in is not free from racial or sexual injustice. It is not free from corruption and poverty. I am still impowered because of my race and I still live in fear because of my gender.
We are the kids and we are here to change this and to strive for the freedom that is owed to us.
…
A word on Twitter.
I was honoured and inspired by the beauty of what my peers managed to write about the past weeks’ events and I believe that the power of social media was definitely taken advantage of to mobilise my generation. Maybe the fact that we are so glued to our screens is not such a bad thing after all.
Lost Words: The power of words has been shown in many posters held by students in this fightI am absolutely appalling on Twitter so I really am inspired by those of you who use it so incredible well. It is a beautiful medium that I am now inspired to use.
The skill of the youth at representing such complexity so eloquently is remarkable and commendable.
And lastly a quote from Desmond Tutu
“Give young people a greater voice. They are the future and they are much wiser than we give them credit for.”
Apologise for the long post and watch out for more posts on other important issues like outsourcing, the role of women and how to exist in a national shutdown.
x J
Fear the Educated Youth: For they understand their power
I am always noting sexism around me, always pointing it out and telling people off for their offensive comments. Usually they are small, sleight of hand if you will, basic stereotypical and deeply entrenched sexist things but it is rare that I hear something blatant enough to enrage me.
Now understand the context of me being tired and overworked but also at the stage in my progression as someone striving for gender equality where I am tired of trying to explain why I feel dismissed in a calm eloquent manner which is more concerned with not offending the perpetrators than standing up for myself. However I am not trying to excuse what I did today. It doesn’t need an excuse as I do believe it was within reason.
Picture an engineering class, bored looks on their faces, sprawled about the room with no idea of order what so ever. We had a project due today and most people are tired or not there. There are about 15 girls and maybe 50 boys present. Now our lecturer asks for a volunteer to do an example on the board. Most of us don’t know what’s going on or really care at this stage, he isn’t a good lecturer, no one particularly likes him and it’s been a long day so as usual no body responds and after trying various people the only person who actually knows what’s going on finally ends his misery and goes to do the example.
She gets it all right, knows exactly what to do and ends up with the successful answer and probably teaches us more in those few minutes then he does in an entire lecture.
As she goes to sit down he pats her on the back and says to the class, “look guys, if this girl can do it, you boys can definitely do it too”….
The class expressed some surprise with most people noting that the sexist comment was well beyond acceptable even for those who do not particularly care. At first I didn’t realise what he had said. I suppose subconsciously I didn’t think I would hear such a comment in a university setting. As the lesson progressed I started to get angry.
To some it may seem that a comment, that an unthoughtful few words is too insignificant to get angry about and although there is much to do with sexism that is far more physically and emotionally harmful than this, this is a fundamental representation for how women are treated in our society… Especially in a degree like engineering.
With a few words he dismissed everything she had done, her work, her effort, and her brain were swept to worthless because of her gender. THIS IS WRONG.
I am taking steps in the direction of no longer keeping quiet and so after the lecture I went to him and expressed that what he had said was dismissive and offensive and that I thought it was unfair. I tried to explain that we already in the minority and we are already treated in a derogatory fashion and it does not help for someone of authority to add to this and teach our peers that this behaviour is okay.
I did succeed in making him uncomfortable and he did admit the error in his ways however did not apologise and it took most of the day for me to calm down in fact I think I am still shaking.
Some of my peers do think that I shouldn’t have said something. They think that it may jeopardise my academic success if I don’t keep quiet. My response to this is: Firstly, there are people who risk their lives for gender rights, I genuinely think this is the least I can do. Secondly if this does affect my academic relationship there are more than enough routes for me to protect myself and I stayed well within my rights. And thirdly, let us not get too melodramatic, I do believe his head is a little too big for me too affect him to such an extent.
What I do not understand is why I was the only person who said something? Why weren’t my peers similarly reeling in anger?
This treatment is NOT okay.
Being a girl means you have a specific body part. It does not mean that something must be easy if you can understand it. It does not mean we have to conform to specific roles or characteristics. It does not mean we can be silenced and dismissed with a few words.
We are supposed to be equals. We should be allowed the opportunity to prove ourselves as anything that we want to, whether it be an anthropologist, a financial accountant or even an engineer.
And NOBODY no matter what position you are in should be allowed to dismiss us.
The University Cape Town and specifically for me the Engineering department is not doing enough to prevent gender discrimination and exclusion.
This is not fair, and it is not right and it needs to change.
Doing something as a girl should not be synonymous with something being easy.
I have never wished to be a boy and I like who I am and what I am but I do find that I get treated differently and I don’t get treated at the standard that I would like to be which is increasingly frustrating.
Women’s Day (9 August) in South Africa exists to commemorate an event in our history where women stood together despite differences like race or religion and displayed strength and bravery. We are supposed to look back and learn, appreciate and try and utilise the characteristics that those women stood for. Sadly I don’t believe that this is really achieved at all. Women’s day for me was about a failing ANC Women’s league and a distasteful and rude stationary advert which symbolised the lack of forward progress towards equality.
#HappyWomensDay compliments of Bic PensTo start with the latter… This was an advertisement by the company Bic, a blue pen staple, who, on Women’s Day, decided to put out a special message just for us. It read: “Look like a girl, act like a lady, think like a man and work like a boss”
Um hello? I would like to know who was the idiot in charge who authorised it? There is no way to view this where it is not insensitive, infuriating and rude. I am not surprised that somebody came up with this what I am surprised at is that they thought it would be okay to publish this and that the appropriate moment was Women’s day.
I am angry. I am furious in fact and I am battling to come up with an eloquent way to call them sexist pigs.
This proved to me that we haven’t made much progress. Every day I fight to have words like “cunt” and “pussy” taken out of people’s vocabularies as an adequate way to degrade someone. Calling someone a vagina to make them feel insignificant is not appropriate. And because adolescent teenage boys are so self-absorbed that they couldn’t care less about how there selfish use of language could be adding to a socially accepted way to entrench the dismissal of women, I am constantly hitting a brick wall. Despite this I had faith that the more grown up version of society at least kept their ill-use of words to themselves but Bic showed to the entire world that this is not true and left much of equality-aware society reeling with shock.
The other issues is that of the ANC Women’s League. Now much like the Youth League they rarely come into much focus despite the desperate need for them and the very many problems surrounding their specific group of people.
This organisation is a subcategory to the current leadership of our land and is intended to represent the issues specific to women and try and draw attention to gender equality within the decisions made by our government. Now on a whole this group doesn’t really do much. Occasionally they get involved but it is rare that the general public sees any kind of representation or results.
It is very difficult to make a comment on this because of the complex political association and for the most part this isn’t really comment about the ANC. Women are one of the groups of society which are not yet at a level of equality to their counterparts and so in decisions made by whatever group in any part of society their needs to be a consideration of the effect this will have on gender rights now the ANC women’s league is supposed to be representing us in government.
On Women’s Day for the first time in months the general public were exposed to the organisation and this was in celebration of women and the only thing that really come out of it was the idea that maybe South Africa could have a female president for the next round. I felt like I couldn’t really celebrate anything because in the last year, in fact the last couple of years we still haven’t made much progress in gender equality in this country (hence Bic’s ability to publish such an incredible failure of an advertisement) and so I felt the celebrations were sort of self-congratulatory and unreasonable and put a damper on the day for me because it simply emphasised the lack of achievements we’ve made recently in the struggle to uplift our gender. Although without looking at the general politics of it, it is about time that South Africa got a female president from whatever party.
On a more personal level women’s day did allow me to appreciate the strength that some women manage to show despite adversaries and a lack of encouragement but it also made me sad that even in my own degree there still is such a low inspiration for young women in this arena that we still only manage to make up a quarter of our classes.
I want to not acknowledge myself as a woman but as a person and I don’t want the fact that I am female to define the choices people make in viewing me or dealing with me. However this is an idealistic view and I cannot live in this society and expect it to come true on its own without dealing with it.
And so I will claim my gender (or sex depending on how you define the words) and I will claim my right to being treated equally to my counterparts.
But why would I place such an issue alongside a fashion post? The connection may not be an obvious one but to me it is crucial. Fashion has for many years been a fundamental part of the so called female-culture and it is linked to much of the dismissal and issues associated with our struggle. Religious control is maintained by female dress code, media created body image is entrenched by clothing, even rape is excused based on women’s outfits. And yes I will not deny that male stereotypes are effected by outer dress as well but I do not believe it is executed to the same degree.
Fashion has formed a part of ever leap of empowerment that women have made. With freedom came pants, short skirts and bikini bottoms and today they may seem trivial in some cultures although in others with more entrenched gender inequality we still note women whose freedoms are even dictated in there dress sense.
For me clothing has never acted as a way to fit in with the commercialized norm but has rather been a tool for me to fight stereotype and express myself physically.
Fashion, like most art forms, can be utilized on the path to revolution. At the moment fashion is being abused as a way for women to be shoved into stereotypical roles and their supposed freedoms abused. Whereas I’d like to inspire a generation (of men and women) who use their clothing to express rather than conform and to break gender defined roles.
When I cut my hair I got questioned, dismissed, and left out. My decision was not accepted or liked and most girls and guys did not appreciate what I was doing. To my peers it was strange and required bravery and stupidity but why is this so? My male friends are going through stages of growing their hair which they now have the freedom to take control of (something I believe they should have had in school too). But, if they one day decide they are bored and cut it off to what is considered the standard, no body bats an eye or cares. It’s there decision and their haircut doesn’t seem to have the magically Rapunzel like properties that ours does (this might be because princess stories -also deeply sexist- weren’t a major focus of their childhoods).
Girls should be allowed to make decisions about their looks without being judged. Currently we tend to make fashion choices based on the dictation of society, a male run society, but I yearn for the day when we can choose to wear whatever we want and it not be questioned. Where you can wear a short skirt because you feel good in it and not have your motives interrogated or your body judged.
In this particular look I am wearing an old trench coat, new MRP Shoes (which have been declared to me as guys styled shoes but I don’t think any style should belong to a specific gender), my favourite pair of TopShop Mom jeans and my usual sweater-and-collar look.
I probably drink to much coffee on a regular basis
Now many aspects of this look could be described as boy-ish or masculine which I have two issues with. This first is that I genuinely believe that a choice in clothing should not have to be defined by gender. What do your sexual organs have to do with your clothing? And secondly the description of something as being that of a gender which is not your own is often intended to be off-putting and derogatory. Boys tend to not like be called feminine and girls tend to not like being called masculine. I wish for a society in which we do not fear being associate with another gender. Gender should not define our thoughts about ourselves or others.
There are plenty of colours in the world other than Pink and Blue.
“All through life there were distinctions – toilets for meb, toilets for women; clothes for men, clothes for women – then, at the end, the graves are identical.” – Leila Aboulela in Minaret
All photos on Middle Campus of The University of Cape Town by Refiloe Mokgele from allzuri.blogspot.com
I have been enthralled by the artistic expression that fashion has to offer for quite a few years now and I have spent a lot of time trying to develop an individualist style and learning to understand the role that fashion can play in one’s life but to be completely honest I have been relatively selfish in my fashion adventure. I haven’t really tried to branch out and actually interact with the world of design and blogging and I certainly haven’t grasped the role that the industry has in South Africa and Africa. I am quite frankly very ignorant about this world especially in its grander parts.
On Thursday the Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week Cape Town officially started and being young fashion-enthusiast myself and two friends declined the call to work on integration and derivation and rather, clad in student-budget class, we joined in with the bloggers and designers, celebrities and politicians to marvel at the art of fashion.
Trying to find an outfit was difficult. I am still relatively new to this and don’t quite own enough statement pieces to safely have an outfit on standby for such an event so I had to do some creative thinking. I wanted to stand out but still form a part of the style contingency that would be there. I decided to go with classic shapes but do something drastic with clashing patterns. It seemed perfect considering that complementing and contradicting within style is probably one of the most notable elements of my aesthetic. I wanted a neutral base to work on hence classic black pencil skirt and stockings (as Cape Town is currently very cold), chunky black heals and my oversized black coat. To this I added –now brace yourself – a purple plaid collared shirt, a red plaid sleeveless cardigan and a blue almost tropical scarf. Now this was crazy and the colours were everywhere but by some miracle it actually looked cool.
When the whole belted scarf trend first came around I didn’t really like it and I swore I would never take part but like most of my hypocritical declarations, I saw the light and decided to try it out for the first time last night and… I actually don’t think it’s too bad. For regular day to day fashion I wouldn’t wear as many layers but for this event it was adequate and the belt acted to mould all the chaos back together.
Also I have been trying out new hairstyles and so have dipped into the middle parting arena and I actually like it despite the fact my hair was not cut for this but I think the slightly lob-sided look is quite edgy and different and suits me.
My compatriots and I formed a killer trio with Fifi transforming her patterned dress into a super cool long top (a trend which has recently grabbed my attention and which challenges the traditional pant-shirt silhouette) with black cigarette trousers, an edgy leather jacket and chunky boots and Tshiamo wearing a statement patterned dress with an oversized coat and the most incredible heels. They are pointed and chunky. This is the combination of two of my favourite classic shoe trends. I never thought the world would be so great as to combine them into one amazing pair.
But I do have to admit that even though we pulled out the stops as best we could we still fell a little short and ended up chilling on the edges. The standard was incredible and the mixture of patterns and shapes was unbelievable but it certainly acted as a great inspiration for next time.
We went to two shows which were both vastly different and the experience was inspiring.
The first show was by Marianne Fassler. Now despite my lack of fashion education even I have heard this name. She is a rather wacky looking old women with bright red dreadlocks and the ability to make beautiful clothes. As far as fashion in the South African version of the industry goes Fassler holds quite a sturdy position in it and its history. She has been working in and around fashion for over 30 years and has managed to develop a distinct style while being clearly inspired by the bright and diverse cultures that she is surrounded with. Her clothes are aimed at real woman who are interesting and quirky and one can certainly empathise with this when seeing her items. They involve a large complexity of shapes, colours and textures all of which could relate to a woman of this kind.
The show itself was disappointing. The energy of the music and the models didn’t match up to the brightness and variety of the clothes themselves and I felt like this let the designs down. When shuffling through photographs afterwards I made new assessments and noted beauty in them that I had overlooked previously because at the time the atmosphere of life and this chaotic vibrancy that seems to accompany anything Fassler does was dulled down completely in the actual show and I personally felt like I couldn’t really make a connection with the pieces.
This does not mean that I deny their beauty. They were beautiful items and although some could have possibly been removed to refine the show the individual artistry that developed in each outfit was incredible. Fassler managed to elegantly bring together modern trends like mesh and leather with her traditional style of brightly coloured South African inspired patterns.
This look (like me) classes patterns. I like that it puts traditional patterns on a more modern shape.
I like this looks playful child like shape yet it’s neon colours and mesh materials changes the dimension of the look
The layered materials here are very interesting while the t-shirt style sticks to the common trend
The next show was one called Habits. This comes from a Cape Town based company run by Jenny Le Roux. She started up Habits, the store, in 1989 as a place where she could create garments that she enjoyed and it has grown ever since. Prior to this, her mark on the industry was as long time editor of the Fairlady and this seems to have given her an acute awareness of the development of fashion. The companies slogan states “mostly made in Cape Town” which is testimony for how hard Le Roux and her team strive to support the local industry. I can really appreciate this as although there may not be as much experience here the inclusion of more South African can be very influential for the future of the industry and will only help it grow.
We had not planned on going to this show and so we had no expectations and even now I am stilling stunned by the experience. The clothes were spectacular but there was also a focus on the show itself and a dramatization of the progression of the fashion and this had an incredible effect on how it ran as an entity. The show started with a montage of photos and clips on the inspiration Le Roux had had and this helped set a foundation for the clothes themselves.
Then it started…
It sort of reminds me of Red-Riding HoodThe first model was showed in a cocoon-type blanket and appeared through mist and almost equivocal music and this gave a very illusory effect and increased suspense. She then glamorously unwrapped herself in a sort of personification of the start of the show and the covering turned into a beautiful Japanese inspired cloak which then lead into a snippet of beautifully crafted and elegant items all of a similar theme. There were large, full skirts, beautiful coats and these grandiose
OH MY GOSH I LOVE THIS SOOOOOO MUCH. SOB SOBpyjama-suits which are now etched into my collage of fashion dreams. I can just picture myself walking into an event and turning-heads in the extravagant design. Ahhh I WANT IT NOW!
But just as we, the audience, adjusted to the pieces everything changed. With a switch of music and a fluctuation in the light complexity a new set of works with a completely different atmosphere came out. For the next larger part of the show we saw a range of light-wearable items with a ‘beachy’ feel to them. These were cool, mono-toned clothes which moved effortlessly and were accessorised with large chunky beads, contrasting colours and oversized bags. This may seem like a common theme for a show and although this section of clothes was the most ordinary part an up-beat atmosphere was maintained and the show utilised a clever pattern of colours to keep us entertained. These clothes were beautifully made and very practical, accessible and on trend and it was nice to see the versatility that a fashion designer can have.
It has a collar = I like it
Think Blue
Orange
After this we entered a section categorised by its colour, white, which came with a light harmonious and very eerie tone. Again (to keep things interesting) it had its own mini-induction. This had four “milk maids”. The girls came out together in similar soft outfits to the previous models but they were all white and had the typical milk maid hair cap on. They were very juxtaposition to the previous works and certainly evoked a curiosity in the crowd. They were followed by an entourage of white garments which increased in lavishness as they went on. Starting with simple looks and ending on a look that resembled a traditional wedding dress. Now for me this was the one look I didn’t really like as it was very a classic shape but I do think that it was used in part to again add to the essence of the show. Now we moved through from a maid to a bride and these represent some very well-known domestic roles woman should ‘supposedly’ take. This was then broken by a cheeky song by notorious fashion-rule-breaker Lady Gaga called The Lady is a Tramp and the looks accompanying it were dark colours which very obviously contrasted with the white but the styles themselves added a similar contradiction. Where the previous items had been elegant and pretty and symbolic of the purity which is associated with white, the new set of looks were edgy and dramatic and almost controversial.
The looks were all still beautiful with amazing shapes and materials and I have been returning to look at them the whole day simply to admire the genuine allure and charm of the pieces. The material was distinctly apt for the looks and fell so naturally into these incredible shapes and I think this set of looks showed off the true art of fashion.
But the looks were more than this. They encapsulated a rebellion against tradition and the sexist regimes which try and control women and their fashion. The looks were incredible but there was no hiding in them. They honoured the elegance of a woman’s body and utilised sheer and lace materials, making looks that were almost completely transparent but this didn’t look crass and instead of leaving me uncomfortable, I was left in awe.
It bought to mind the recent campaign, Free the Nipple, to allow full female breasts onto specific social medias because currently there are no restrictions on men but women still have to cover up. Now sure we have been taught the societal convention that our nudity is different from that of a man and we need to be hidden even more and have ‘discretion’ and so forth. WHY??? I don’t know or understand the logic behind this and although there might be some abuse if it does become a reality, I do still believe that we should not have to be ashamed of or have to hide our bodies, namely our breasts, and the looks that Le Roux put on the runway certainly were not obeying these so called normalities and it was a beautiful thing to see not a horrific one. They inspired personal bravery and belief for woman rather than dismissing us and our bodies.\
This combined with Lady Gaga song which in itself has a deeper meaning about defying stereotypes on women, had an amazing effect and I sat wishing that the show would never end. I felt inspired and revitalised and pretty damn impressed that this all came from fashion.
When Le Roux came out I applauded as loud as I could because she had from those inspirations in fashion history that she had shown us in the beginning grown this enticing and fascinating show that condensed ideas of art and growth and feminism and courage and so forth all into one continuous, clean well-structured show and I am so thankful that I got to see it.
I am definitely going to try and improve my knowledge on fashion like this because it has the most amazing potential in influencing society to some form of greater change.
Check out allzuri.blogspot.com to see what Fifi has to add about our day at the runway.
Lately I have been increasingly frustrated with the injustices of the world around me and the forceful yet common sexism which hits me everyday and yet every time I try and put my ideas and experiences into words… they fail me.
And isn’t that expected.
How can one describe such a complex and massive issue, that controls every moment of our lives as woman, into a few paragraphs. I don’t think there is anything that exists verbal or physical that can adequately depict the problem that we face everyday.
However, while saying this, I do continue on my journey to try clarify and verbalize the problems I see in a approachable manner but this continues to be a slow process and I am angry now. I am angry and I don’t know what to do.
But I have always believed that flinging your emotional passions into various forms of art has to be productive in some manner so I ventured into the world of stream of consciousness and wrote a poem about how I am feeling.
The whole point is that it remains unedited so please keep in mind that the emotion is more important than the poetic devices. I am no Ingrid Jonker but I have tried my best. Here is a taste of angry-Jemma thrown at poetry (Please let me know what you think).
YOU
Everything
Everything that I want to be
Is dictated, told, created, informed, wanted
By you
Everything I am was decided by you and I cannot be anything and I cannot be nothing without it being your decision
And yet you wave it away
You tell me that I am free and I believe you
But it’s a lie
Because that freedom is still made by you
Not by me
And you don’t get itI scream and I shout and I cry and I pour my words out but they feel so useless
You say you understand
You say ‘you’re different
But you still don’t get it
You still don’t see
And I feel so alone in my quest-
You have each other, this big unquestionable force
‘Awe bru’
And my sisters?
My support?
You got them first and I’m pulling at the knots of their blindfolds but I don’t think I’m strong enough to get them off…
Not yet
I feel so angry, so frustrated, so lost
Don’t you see,
I can’t discover, I cannot create, the smallest parts of my identity still belong to you and so it becomes impossible for me as me to make an impact on the world
When I was at school I participated (for many years) in a club called Writer’s Circle. It was an after-school activity which involved a few girls who were interested in writing. I did this throughout my high school career. I’ve always loved writing but I wasn’t very good at it. Attending these lessons and being surrounded by girls who were equally as enthusiastic as I was helped me grow as a writer. I was able to improve my own skills in a positive environment and was exposed to other styles. When I went to university I had to leave this behind. After 5 years of having to write something new every week, I felt creative-writing withdrawal so a friend and I decided to gate-crash the current circle while I was in Jo’burg. We wanted to really feel a part of it and so even went as far as to write a piece on the theme they had been given for homework.
I was busy and distracted and so left the writing to a rushed 15 minutes just before the lesson but I was still pleased with the outcome and simply excited to be writing creatively.
The week’s challenge had been to write a work from the perspective of a child, aged 5 to 13, and the topic was ‘A lesson I will never forget’.
The piece I wrote was called ‘Books are for Boys’ and here it is:
Daddy teaches me lots of things. Always when I am with him I must learn. He has this room in the house. It is big and round and the walls are made of books. I am not allowed in this room without daddy. Me and Amarah call it the secret room because it holds all the worlds secrets. Daddy is so smart, he knows everything.
Every night me and Amarah and daddy have learning time. Daddy told me I must know all that is in the world if it is ever to be mine. It is his job to teach me. Daddy gets home in the evening, eats what mama has made and then rings a special bell and yells “Tahil,” and we must come. I am older so he addresses me. I sit on his lap and Amarah sits at his feet.
The other kids get stories before bed but not us. We learn about a different thing everyday.
Well we used to.
We don’t anymore. Amarah isn’t allowed in now. Daddy doesn’t teach her anymore because he is angry.
Amarah went in to the secret room without daddy. Amarah loves books. She can’t read them herself but she always sits and holds them and pretends to. Daddy has this old book. It is as heavy as an elephant and is as old as the prophet.
Amarah has always wanted to read it but daddy said no so she went in without him. When he found out he was very angry. He shouted so loud like a giant. I was scared so I covered my ears and hid.
Now Amarah has a scar on her face like mama’s.
Amarah doesn’t learn from the books anymore. Amarah doesn’t like books anymore.
And I now know books are for boys and not girls.
This is a very rushed and roughed piece and by no means my best work but I enjoyed writing it so much that I had to post it. I believe that sexism is very much alive and I wanted to somehow show this because it is currently an issue at the fore front of my mind. I also wanted to show how easy it is to manipulate and change a child’s bias.
I mean no offence by this work and it is purely fictional but I was just very excited to write it and wanted to share some of my more creative work with you because I don’t think you get to see that often.
Plain Old Glasses 