Textile Evolutions: How Designers Explore Culture and Identity Through Fibers and Fashion

In Sofi Thanhauser’s Worn: A People’s History of Clothing, she writes that “cloth is often used to symbolize the web of connections between people,” remarking that casual phrases like “social fabric” or “an alliance was stitched together” are rooted in the history of the craft. Wearing clothing is one way of connecting people through expressions of identity and values. The crafting techniques of textiles themselves have been integral to the creation and support of smaller craft communities and the continuation of lineages. Drawing on two cultural examples of textile pattern and color within a historical context, I explore how textiles have become forms of political or social expression and cultural iconography. 

The RISD Museum’s extensive textiles and costume collection ranges from centuries-old works like Navajo cloth to contemporary pieces from brands like Gucci that are actively dominating the fashion industry. Displaying an array of dyeing, printing, and textiles-making processes, the collection is one local source of knowledge for the importance that this medium has on culture and identity. In September of this year, the Textiles and Costume Department of the RISD Museum held an exhibit called Nizhónígo Hadadít’eh, They are Beautifully Dressed, showing a series of Native American Diné (Navajo) textiles. Featuring a mix of modern and nineteenth century work, Diné weavers conveyed cultural and self-expression through various patterns.

Contemporary artist Korina Emmerich’s textiles unmask histories of exploited labor associated with fiber-making and take back identities that endured colonialism. In Navajo culture, early weavings of fabric were made with cotton. After trading with civilizations in New Mexico and the introduction of sheep from the Spanish, Navajo people began to use wool for its warmth and longevity. Many of their weavings used natural materials or animal sourced furs, making it culturally significant. In addition to the material of the fiber in Diné practice, the use of patterning shows cultural aesthetics and ideas. Emmerich’s Ari Jacket, Ari Mini, and Brooklyn Beret draw upon traditional Diné patterns to take back power as their designs are often targets of appropriation. The use of symmetrical and geometric graphics, repetition, and contrasting colors are reminiscent of the idea of Hózhó, meaning harmony, a recurrent theme of Diné work. By using Pendleton fabric, a company that stole designs from Diné weavers, Emmerich’s Ari Jacket epitomizes the goal of her brand: to reclaim a communal identity while “[exposing] and [dismantling] systems of oppression in the fashion industry and [challenging] colonial ways of thinking.” Emmerich shows how textile design can both evolve in response to historical events like colonialism and conserve the roots of cultural identity. Like some of the Diné weaver’s work, textile traditions in other parts of the world have represented cultural practices with specific colors.

 In Japan, different types of apparel and dyes have been associated with class strata and etiquette, providing a way to resist expected social and gender dynamics. In “Redefining Edo Female Identity through iki Aesthetics in Undergarment” (featured in Fashion through History: Costumes, Symbols, Communication), Petya Andreeva explores the subversive power of apparel during the Tokugawa rule from 1603 to 1868. New designs emerged, particularly of  under-garments like the juban, a type of robe worn under a kimono that can be partially shown peeking out of kimono sleeves or in private settings. Because of the shogunate’s (military rulers’) control over social standards at the time, women of a lower class were not allowed to wear the color red. Resisting these regulations, designers used benibana red dye on jubans worn by lower-middle class women. Wearing this color under their clothes was a covert expression of sexuality and self-agency, which was typically frowned upon for women to display.  

While the marking of benibana dye could provide socio-political power for different discriminated communities, women of the samurai elite could wear this as a symbol of status. The MET has a large series of Japanese kimonos and robes in their collection. This late 18th to early 19th century outer robe, or uchikake, below shows the use of red dye. Before the Tokugawa (Edo) Period, uchikake were worn for formal occasions over other garments. Over time, women of the elite began wearing these for weddings, which came to represent their marital joy and happiness. The iconography of the reddish-orange dye was pivotal in women’s self expression, whether it was resistance and sexual empowerment among the middle-class or lasting marriage and power among the elite. 

Technological advancement and industrial globalization in the mid 18th to 19th centuries created lasting conditions of fiber-making and factory labor that have stolen power and independence from many individuals. Historically, fiber craft bonded local communities and provided a means of self-employment for groups of artisans such as the Diné weavers. Much of the fiber was made close to where their plant sources were grown and spun, providing prosperity to local farmers. There was a sense of respect for the crops that produced the material and attention given to the craft process. The introduction of machines threatened the communal identities and agency gained from cultural handicraft. Gravitating towards cheap and quicker labor, dominating businesses invested in manufacturing of fiber and cloth with little regard for the effects on local communities and the workers. These conditions persist today. Thanhauser writes, “In 1850, it was a commonplace for women seamstresses to live near starvation levels while working fourteen-hour days making shirts… Today it is commonplace again.” As clothes are being made faster, and in large quantities to keep up with high consumer demand, it is crucial to acknowledge the exploitation and appropriation of labor and design practices embedded in the history of textile production. Fibers have deep cultural and identity-related roots that are forgotten under the problematic schemes of the industrial revolution, fast fashion, and seasonal trends.

Across the world, textiles have served their importance in heritage and self-expression visible in the style and craft of fabrics. In some societies, they have been a form of resistance and female empowerment. Weaving, knitting, and other textile-oriented crafts have brought together people and been continued through lineages. Various examples reveal unacknowledged histories about the origins of textiles, the communities connected, and the social or cultural power of fashion. Acknowledging how textile craft has changed with the introduction of machine-powered processes, it’s important to consider the clothes we wear and understand the traditions or labor that are behind them. As Sofi Thanhauser notes, “Sometimes the clothes we wear tell truer stories than we do.” 

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Cover Image: Emme Studio, Ari Jacket, Ari Mini, and Brooklyn Beret