Replicas

The one thing assured to start a heated battle in the Lolita community is the topic of replicas. People have debated the merits endlessly, but the part that has been forgotten in all of this discussion is one simple thing:

The truth.

I would love to live in a perfect world where the creative minds that dream up the beautiful things I love retained direct and complete control over their works forever, profiting handsomely every time their works were reproduced or sold.

That would be great, wouldn’t it?

However, that is simply not the case. In the world of Lolita- and the wider world in general- the designers who toil over those lovely prints don’t actually retain the copyright to their works. The company they produce the prints for does.

Hence the brand name liberally sprinkled over everything. And the copyright marks stating the copyright being attributable to the brand.

The reality is that the designers are either working on salary, or on one-time commission. They don't retain the copyrights, and they sure don’t get per-unit royalties, except in the case of named collaborations (possibly).

So, all of those people who throw around much butthurt about “Art Theft” (Yes, I went there) and call anyone who wears a replica Enemy of Art...are wrong.

Dead wrong.  At best, you could call them Enemy of Corporate Profit.

If artists are getting a raw deal, it is because of the exploitive nature of the relationship between labor and capital (OMG! Is this about to veer into Socialist rhetoric? Yes. Yes it is.). Capital sets the terms of employment, and those terms are generally unfavorable to labor. In the world of Lolita print design, what that means is that in most cases, that 4,000th re-release of Holy Lantern isn’t actually directly enriching the artist who drew the design. It is enriching Angelic Pretty- and ONLY Angelic Pretty. We can sit and argue about the “goodness” or “badness” of AP as a company (or any of the other brands, for that matter), but please understand, the company and the company alone profits from print releases on a per-unit basis.

If anyone in Lolita is an Enemy of Art, paradoxically, it is the brands themselves.

What producing a replica DOES do is infringe on the corporation’s copyright. That is against international copyright law, which incidentally, IS enforceable. Granted, it is tough to enforce on producers based in China directly, as China is notoriously lax on enforcement of copyrights, but it can be done. It is done. Many companies that own valuable copyrights go to great lengths to enforce theirs. Many producers of highly sought-after brands build in protection against counterfeits directly into their wares. They are serious about protecting their intellectual property. They are also serious about protecting their customers from unwittingly buying fakes.

What do the brands do to protect their intellectual property? What do they do to protect the buying public? Very little, apparently. AP has a notice on their website saying, “Replicas are bad.” As far as  I know, that is the extent of their efforts.

Apparently, the “aggrieved parties” in this copyright infringement aren’t too concerned about the issue. If they were, there is plenty they could do- starting with larger releases in a range of sizes, easier online transactions for international buyers, and multiple price points for their products.

For the most part, they do none of the above.

The brands have a right to run their companies as they please. I am not against capitalism per se, and I don’t begrudge them profits. I hope they make money, and continue to make beautiful dresses. But for the most part, NONE of the purchases I make in Lolita support the brands directly.

First off, most of my brand purchases are second-hand. I’ve only ever bought directly from Metamorphose. My hat is off to them, because they actually made it practical to do so- they make dresses in sizes I can wear, at prices I can afford, and they put them on a website that is easy to navigate, and they ship directly to me at a reasonable rate. So, they get my money. For the other brands, I go to second-hand shops, buy from other members of the community, or buy on online auctions. They never see a direct cent from me. I’m sure the same is true for many- if not most- Lolitas internationally.

Secondly, I buy Bodyline, indie and taobao a lot, too. The prices are good, and the size range variable. Buying direct from some of these sources can still be a pain, but the prices make it worth the bother.

And yes, I do buy replicas. I mostly buy them secondhand, too- so no direct support of replica makers- though I did buy one from an Ebay shop that was probably run buy a Chinese manufacturer. They were print replicas, and I do not feel a bit bad.

I buy dresses for me. Not for social impact. Because true story- you don’t control social impact. See: Tom’s Shoes. You can walk around all holier-than-thou, decked out in brand, but the truth is a lot of what you are wearing is made in the SAME sweatshops in China the replicas come from.  Or from the Japanese equivalents where old Auntie-samas are bent over their machines in questionable conditions, making bottom-dollar for their work. And still,at the end of the day, the artists aren’t getting the pay or recognition they deserve, and the brands themselves liberally “borrow” inspiration from other sources. There ARE problems in Loliland, but they are not problems you cause by buying replicas, or solve by NOT buying them.

If I’m going to worry about impact, I’m honestly a lot more worried about the impact rigid, dogmatic thinking about class and size and privilege have on the people who wear Lolita. How DARE anyone say that someone doesn’t “deserve” to wear a cute print they love because of the size of their body or their wallet?  If you want to paint anyone in Lolita as a villain, and anyone as a victim, I accuse the replica-shamers as villains, and that makes replica wearers the true victims.

It is fine to decide you don’t want to wear replicas. It is also fine to call out replica-production for what it is- an infringement on corporate copyrights. But don’t hold yourself as superior to other people if you turn around and shame them for wearing replicas. Especially don’t think you are blame-free if you are one of those supercilious hair-splitters who unironically wear Antaina or Bodyline shoes, or carry Loris purses, or buy dress “design replicas” because you can’t “copyright a cut of fabric”. How can one artist (print designer) be worthy of your protection, but another (shoe/purse designer) isn’t?

No, if you engage in the above behaviors, you aren’t “protecting” art or artists. You aren’t standing up for the downtrodden. You are doing the downtrodding.

You are a hypocrite. You should be ashamed of that.

People are more important than profits. Hands-down. Let the companies safeguard their profits. Let Lolita communities safeguard Lolitas.

An Open Letter To People Who See Me Wearing Lolita

Sunday, I went to a meetup with my Lolita community to the local art museum, and then to lunch. It was a lovely, unseasonably warm and sunny day, and people were out in force. By now, I'm used to getting at least a few questions or comments when I am in Lolita, and even the occasional request for a picture. I can't say I eagerly look forward to that type of attention, but it usually doesn't bother me too much. 

What happened yesterday was different. What happened yesterday left me feeling very frustrated. I even felt a bit angry. 

It seemed like every time we turned around, we were being hounded by some complete stranger about our clothes. 

"Are you in a play"? "Why are you dressed like that?" "Can I have a picture?" "What do you call...that?" "Are you supposed to be dolls?" 

It went on and on. The other members of my group were gracious. I didn't feel gracious at all. I felt trapped. Maybe even a little threatened. I lowered my head when the pictures snapped. I mumbled terse responses and looked away. I don't think I was really able to enjoy any of the art.

When I got home, I tried to decide why this bothered me so much. After all, I wear clothes I find cute precisely so people will see them and appreciate them, right? 

Maybe. But to be honest, the "person" I'm most eager to impress is myself. In my Lolita fashion, or any other clothes. I wear them for the way they make me feel about myself. If other people like them too- bonus. But I'd wear clothes (and have worn clothes) that never got any positive reactions at all, if they were things I liked. I've got to imagine the same is true for other people as well.

Why, then, do they treat me like some sort of weird, subhuman specimen when I'm in Lolita? 

Clearly, this experience has me rattled.

So as a catharsis, I decided to write the following letter. I know nobody who was asking those questions, or is likely to ask those questions will read it, but I just want to vent. 

Dear Curious Onlookers,

It's me, the one in the "strange" dress. The one who looks like a "doll". I just wanted to take this chance to give a really thorough response to all of your questions, since you obviously think your questions are more important than my time or my privacy.

First- just to clear things up- I'm not in a play. I have been in plays before, and it was a lot of fun. We performed on a stage. We wore costumes while performing on a stage. We never actually went to a museum, or ate lunch, or went shopping in our costumes. That's not really what acting in a play is all about. I can understand your confusion, though. Watching a group of people not acting, and not on stage, but wearing unusual clothes... that must be so disorienting. I mean, it just screams "play", doesn't it?

Secondly, I'm not actually trying to be a doll. Yes, yes, I know- that show on TV. There are people who want to look like dolls. I'm not one of them. I'm not even really sure what that means. By definition, aren't dolls modeled off of people? So if you "look like a doll", doesn't that really mean you look like... a person?

"But it's the clothes!", you say. Yes, the clothes. Dolls wear clothes. Sometimes, they are frilly clothes. Aren't ALL doll clothes modeled off of real clothes? I've seen dolls in jeans and sweatshirts. Are people in jeans and sweatshirts trying to look like dolls? Do you stop them and ask them, just to be sure?

The real burning question for you seems to be why. Why am I dressed like this? Why am I wearing clothes that don't look exactly like your clothes? Why do I like looking like this? 

I want to. That's why. That's the only answer you need. And really, you don't even deserve that. 

You deserve NOTHING from me. The fact that I deign to answer you at all is a reflection of my desire to be polite, and non-confrontational. Live, and let live.

You should try it. 

I am just a person, like you, living my life. I happen to like certain clothes- so do you. If you would find it irksome to be stopped constantly and engaged by strangers, have pictures snapped of you, be interrupted and put on the spot, know that the same applies to me. Go about your business, and I'll go about mine. 

If you like the way I look, that's great. If you want to politely compliment me, that's nice. If you have legitimate questions about my attire- say, you like the look, and want to replicate it- if I'm not busy, I'll be happy to answer your polite inquiries.

If you don't like my look- look away. Keep your thoughts to yourself. Put those skills they taught you in Kindergarten to work.

 If you don't "understand" my style, look it up. It is amazing what you'll find on the internet. 

If you "get off" on some fetish that involves frills- whatever, but don't assume I do too. 

Oh- and lady with the pink hair- no, I don't have to just "accept" that people will get in my face if I wear unusual clothes in public. I'm not "asking for attention." That sounds an awful lot like the logic that has led to the rape epidemic in our society. My clothes do not, cannot, will NEVER excuse your bad behavior. Shame on you for trying to invalidate my discomfort with your rude and pushy actions by shifting the blame onto me. 

To put it simply: treat me like any other person you encounter. I promise, I'll do the same. 

Regards,

A Frustrated Lolita 

My Favorite Lolita Brand- Metamorphose

Oh, Metamorphose, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways:

1. You offer a wide variety of styles and prints;
2. You take chances, and make edgy choices;
3. Your clothes fit me consistently;
4. You appreciate the kawaii potential of squirrels;
5. Somebody on your design team obviously loves cats;
6. Your website is easy to navigate, and you actually have a section devoted to plus-size;
7. Your prices are more down-to-earth than many of your competitors;
8. There is a sense of fun to your pieces that others sometimes lack;
9. You rock the traditional Japanese-inspired prints;
10. You were my first introduction to the world of Lolita.

Manefestange Metamorphose Temps de Fille ( "Manafestange"? What the heck?) may not be the oldest Lolita brand, or the most well known Lolita brand, but to me, it is the best Lolita brand. For all of the reasons above, and then some, I have more Meta in my closet than any other major brand. Meta makes me smile; it makes me feel good when I wear it. That's what Lolita is all about, right?

Let the photos tell the story:

Bubble Bath print. Look at those lovely details! I love the grumpy kitten!

My squirrel prints. Top: Squirrel to Your Letter. Bottom: Fairy Trump.

Oh, how I want this! Little Squirrel.

Dozing Cat. See what I mean about Japanese-inspired prints? Plus cats. 

This is the kind of dress I first fell in love with when I stumbled across Meta back in 2005 or so. 

                                 

Bodyline- A Choice, not a Mistake

One of the skirts I recently bought. Is it kitchy? Yes. Do I recognize that, and like it all the same? Yes.

In a recent thread on a Facebook group I belong to, people were asked what advice they would give to their "new Lolita" selves. A lot of the answers (and accompanying pictures) were funny chronicles of the awkward mistakes we all make when getting into a new fashion. Of course, as the conversation evolved, it got down to some comments about "bad" places to buy Lolita, and I held my breath, waiting for the inevitable mention of  Bodyline.

 Bodyline.

The mere name sends chills down the spines of many Lolitas. Is it because Bodyline unabashedly sells a line of cosplay items side-by-side their Lolita offerings? Is it the inconsistency of their quality? Is it because of their creepy CEO and founder, "Mr. Yan"?

Yes, yes, and YES to all of the above.

Bodyline has some problems. I won't pretend otherwise. I particularly find the last issue- Mr. Yan, to be troubling. But like anything else, I think you have to submit Bodyline to careful cost-benefit analysis, and I believe the benefits of Bodyline DO outweigh the costs.

First- what Bodyline is not.

It is not brand. Period. Bodyline has an entirely different business model than places like Angelic Pretty, Baby, or Meta. It certainly doesn't operate like Mary Magdalene or Atelier Boz. I wouldn't even put it in the same category as Putumayo or some of the higher-end Chinese makers or the Korean brand Haenuli. You are not going to get carefully constructed designer originals from Bodyline. No limited editions. No exclusive prints. Not going to happen. As a matter of fact, you will get dresses using fabric that is used by several of the smaller Taobao shops- and even some of the bigger ones:

Top- Bodyline "1560" JSK, Bottom- Infanta "Fruit Pies" JSK

That being said, I think Bodyline NOT being brand is one of its charms. Brand is problematic on some levels, too. Brand is very expensive. Brand is hard to buy- both in terms of limited quantities, and less-than-robust online shops for international buyers. They often won't ship directly. And of course, sizing is a problem for many Western buyers. Western Lolitas tend to be larger than Eastern Lolitas- we all know that. I'm not huge by Western standards, and I struggle with some brand - especially tops. 

So what IS Bodyline? Bodyline is a quantity seller- think of it like a big-box discount department store...for Lolita. Because they deal in quantity, they make their stuff readily available. They don't have any need to build a lot of cachet around their product. So they offer lots of sizes, and long production runs at modest prices. Their website is easy to navigate and use- even easier after the recent upgrade- and they ship directly (for free) to the US. All of this benefits the buyer who is looking to buy pieces quickly, cheaply and efficiently. When I just need a basic piece of clothing quickly, or a cheap necklace to go with an outfit, I go to Target. When I want a shopping experience, or I'm looking for something high-quality, or unique, I go to the Plaza. Same concept applies to Lolita. 

I also have to point out that Bodyline, by-and-large, is decent quality. The old saying is true- you get what you pay for, and you definitely get a lot of product when you buy brand. The best made piece of clothing in my closest, Lolita or otherwise, is my Innocent World skirt. The seams are neat and straight, the fabric is smooth, the print is sharp. However, I bought it used, and still payed more for it than a new Bodyline skirt. And it is small. So small, I moved the hook closure over a couple of centimeters to give myself room to breathe. 

I have a dress, two skirts, a cutsew, and a cardigan from Bodyline. They're all decent quality- again, think Target. I would put one of the skirts ( I125- the one with ball fringe) up against my Angelic Pretty or Meta skirts in terms of quality. They all fit nicely without modification, and the OP is downright roomy. The sizing IS a little wonky- the skirts are mediums, the dress is a large, and the shirts are extra large, and they all fit. I chalk this up mostly to me being less than perfectly proportionate, but I do think you have to read their measurements carefully before you buy.

The Squirrel Party print is not as sharp as the print on my Innocent World skirt, but it is still cute and distinct. The little deer decal on my cardigan looks very 70's-doll-clothes kitschy, but that is part of the appeal of it to me. I honestly like many of their prints for that very reason- they look like modern interpretations of old prints you would find on children's clothes or pajamas, or even children's sheet sets! (I swear I slept on something that looked like the carousel print when I was eight...) Part of why I do sweet Lolita is that it has a certain nostalgic appeal for me as a child of the 80's. Bodyline delivers that nostalgia.  As far as the clothes I have purchased, the quality seems well in line with the price I've paid. For what it's worth, I did use the "Yen trick" when I bought all but my first order, and I've never had to pay shipping. If I was paying full US dollar prices for my clothes, or paying shipping, I might be less enthusiastic about Bodyline's value. 

Yes, Yan appears to be a creepy douchecanoe. I don't like supporting a person who manipulates, fetishizes, or exploits young women. But the truth is- and this may be totally unintentional- he also runs a business that is much more friendly than brand to many Lolitas. How much money you have, or the size of your body should not preclude you from enjoying any certain fashion. I strongly believe that all people have the right to enjoy their own bodies, and adorn them in any way they see fit. So, I have to weigh the general creepiness of stunts like the "Mr.Yan Body Pillow" and stories about him setting up manipulative contracts with his models (like VenusAngelic) against the very real service his store provides to the community. Of course, if I hear substantiated reports that he is raping/assaulting people, I'm done with buying new Bodyline, as I would be done with any person/ entity that perpetuates violent crime.

So, that's why I like Bodyline. I see it as a democratizing force in the Lolita community, filling a niche unaddressed by traditional brands. In my personal experience, the quality has been in line with the price paid, and is reasonable- even good-  by the standards I apply to my regular clothes. The simplistic, cartoonish prints actually appeal to my sense of 80's childhood nostalgia, and I find buying from them to be easy and convenient.

So while Bodyline might not be for everyone, I think it is wrong for people to reflexively look askance at it, or make Lolitas who wear it feel "less than" their brand-wearing peers. I particularly would like to see an end to snipey comments in online forums about the noob "mistake" of wearing Bodyline. Wearing Bodyline is not a mistake- it's a choice. Frankly, it's a choice that makes a lot of sense if you are just getting into the fashion, have a limited budget, are larger than comfortably fits brand sizing, or if you like their particular brand of kitschy cute. I feel there is room enough in Lolita for all Lolitas to coexist peacefully, and room for people like me to cross the boundaries and wear both brand and Bodyline without feeling like I am dressing down when I wear my Bodyline pieces.

Taking a Twinkle Journey to Target- Your New Lolita Headquarters

OK- that's a bit of an exaggeration. But still, I scored some great stuff there for my ongoing efforts to complete my Twinkle Journey coordinate.

I bought an Oo Jia replica of the Metamorphose Twinkle Journey OP at a Lolita gathering earlier this summer, and right from the start, I had big plans for this dress. Based on the grandeur of the design, I knew I needed more than just the little headbow that came with it and a utilitarian pair of tights. This print called for something special. It called for bling. It had "hime" written all over it.

But where would I find the bling worthy of my pegacorns?

As it turns out, the friendly neighborhood Target. I was browsing around, looking for clearance deals, and what did  I spy?  Starry kneesocks.  At $1.50, these beat the pants off of even second-hand brand socks. And they were cute. But not cute enough... So I Lolified them by sewing on a little bow and hot gluing on star trim.

Bam! A perfect match with my new, golden shoes. Why gold, you might ask? Because BLING, that's why. These pegacorns demanded bling, so they got bling. 

I'm not kidding. These pegacorns... it's easy to dismiss them as just some cute fairytale creatures, frolicking in a beautiful meadow. But look closer:

Yeah, that's a treasure chest. Overflowing with loot. My personal theory? These are pirate pegacorns who go around relieving unsuspecting travelers of their valuables. In space. Then they go back to their idyllic homeworld Pegacornyx 5, where they engage in ritual revelries involving their treasures under the starry skies. 

You've got to step it up a notch when dealing with swaggy pirate pegacorns. But you can't get too crazy when you are operating on a teacher's budget. So, I was happy when I found some cute little tiaras and wands over in the Target dollar spot. I was excited, but not over-the-third-moon-of-Pegacornyx 5- excited by the bargain bling. So I went to work again:

Out came my trusty glue gun again, as I added on a few more elements to the tiara. Nothing too splashy- just enough to personalize it.

Then, the piece de resistance. I may or may not have gone a little crazy with the wand. I have never owned a wand before. It just felt like more was better with wands:

Yes, those are three separate bows. And the unicorn has a spangle hot glued to her ear. I can't help it- I was born this way.

Like the pegacorns, I'm a hoarder. I scrapbook; I craft. I go to craft stores and thrift stores and junk stores and the Almighty Outlet and I buy bits and baubles and doodads I can't live without, and I store them. And I wait. That little unicorn has been lurking around my craft room for about two years now, patiently waiting to be turned into something fabulous. Wish: granted, by my Twinkle Journey wand.

Blame it on the hot glue fumes- I do ;-)

Lolita's Postmodern Appeal- Part II

In part two on my series on Lolita and postmodernity, I will be examining the critical commentary Lolita fashion represents. In order to do so, I think it is helpful to look at two movies- one which deals directly with Lolita fashion, and one which has nothing to do with it.

The first movie I wish to explore is Goodby, Lenin, a German movie from 2003 about the fall of the Berlin Wall and the reunification of Germany. The central plot of the movie revolves around the main character's effort to shield his dyed-in-the-wool socialist mother from the unfolding events of the reunification after she suffers a debilitating heart attack. He embarks on a program of deception to convince his mother that everything is "business as usual" in the GDR, but in the process, finds his own motivation to keep up the charade. The idea is that he is able to rewrite history- to create the country and reunification story he wishes was the historical truth. He is able to reimagine socialism in such a way that it becomes his mother's ideal, instead of the fatally flawed system that eventually imploded in the late 1980's.

In much the same way, Lolita fashion allows its wearers to rewrite history. The fashion of the eras showcased by Lolita, while beautiful, was often a not-too-subtle statement about the lowly position of women in society. The very fact that women were seen as ornaments without human agency is attested to by the impractical, constraining nature of the clothing they wore.

Lolita, to a degree, engages in a rhetorical exercise of "what if" by taking these highly impractical garments and subverting them. Hemlines are higher and more walkable. The preferred fabric for Lolita- woven cotton- is lighter, more breathable, and more practical than historically accurate fabrics. Much of the "corset lacing" that typifies Lolita is ornamental instead of practical, and worn on the outside. While generally a more "modest" fashion, Lolita is not about policing women's bodies, nor is it about exhibiting them in an overtly sexualized manner. While Lolita is by no means "casual" or "easy wearing" attire, it is infinitely more practical and less constraining than the historical wear which inspires it.

One can argue that this amounts to a "Disneyification" of historical dress; candy-coating and whitewashing the very real, and very problematic elements of objectification these styles were fraught with. However, I believe Lolita is more properly viewed as an act of reclamation, taking what was once a mark of servility and sex-based oppression and remixing it as a statement on nonconformity and historical reimagining. In this way, I believe Lolita is part of the "FUBU" school of social reclamation- like the 90's and 2000's streetwear brand FUBU- Lolita is a style "for us, by us"- designed primarily by feminine-identifying people, for feminine-identifying people, irrespective of the male gaze. With the exception of those people who have fetishized such clothing, Lolita does not meet current societal standards of "sexiness" or "desirability".  The idea here is that wearing Lolita is a subversion of women-as-ornaments-for-men, and becomes women-ornamenting-themselves-for their-own-enjoyment.

Another way that Lolita serves as social commentary and critique is by creating discursive spaces for the examination of  traditional performances of gender, and ultimately the questioning and deconstruction of such performances. An example of this function of Lolita can be found in the 2004 movie Kamikaze Girls, adapted from the 2002 light novel Shimotsuma Story- Yankee Girl and Lolita Girl by Novala Takemoto.

The story is about two teenage girls- Ichigo, the "yankee" or delinquent, and Momoko, the "Lolita". Both girls live in a semirural area in Japan, and are, in their own ways, estranged from the community around them. Ichigo, in keeping with her delinquent status, appears rough, tomboyish, and stereotypically "masculine" in her pursuits. Momoko, by contrast, appears delicate, ladylike, and stereotypically "feminine", as befits a Lolita devotee. However, the movie quickly makes it apparent that not all is as it seems. Under her rough exterior, Ichigo is a gentle soul seeking social acceptance, while Momoko is cold, withdrawn, and singularly focused. The movie ends with Momoko saving Ichigo from angry gang rivals, in a total reversal of the "damsel in distress" trope. The movie is constantly contrasting appearances v. reality, and questioning the validity of gender performance as a means of judging a person's personality.

As could be expected, Kamikaze Girls has a strong fan base in the Lolita community. Aside from the obvious enjoyment gained from seeing one's subculture featured on screen (along with the adorable old school Baby, The Stars Shine Bright outfits), I believe Kamikaze Girls resonates with Lolitas because it is a specific manifestation of the critique of gender performance Lolita makes in general.

Lolita is, in my opinion, a way to express femininity in isolation, or essence, without the cultural baggage. Unlike Momoko, most Lolitas are not "lifestyle", meaning they don't wear Lolita all the time. While most Lolitas will strongly denounce Lolita as cosplay, the truth is that it is an identity they assume- and take off- at will. The fact that there are male Lolitas- some of whom identify as cisgenderd straight- suggests that this is a "portable" femininity they can try on when it suits them. In the same way Ichigo and Momoko "balance" each other in the movie, I believe Lolita is a safe space for individuals to tweak and define their own gender balance. All people exist somewhere on a gender continuum, but it would be my guess that many Lolitas are more gender (and perhaps sexually) fluid than the society at large. Lolita gives people an "anchor" of femininity when they feel they need it, without encumbering them with the issues that surround more traditional aspects of gender performance in today's society. By making femininity an outfit you wear, it subtly critiques the notion of gender as a viable construct.

Lolita's Postmodern Appeal- Part I

What is postmodernity? That is a question I have been wrestling with since my graduate study days in the late 1990's.  The best definitions I have seen focus on postmodernity's critique of the modern using pastiche, simulacra, and irony. Simply put, the postmodern is (was) a movement beyond the modern by taking pieces of the modern out of context, then reconfiguring it to create a not-quite-accurate recreation as a means of commentary or critique. For me, the postmodern is best understood through architecture, where the pastiche and ironic qualities are self-evident:

 Kengo Kumo, K2 Buildings, Building Tokyo 1991

If you "get" this building, you "get" postmodernism. Look at all of those historical styles, jumbled together. Look at the outsized Ionic column at the center of the composition, just begging you to contemplate the centrality of Western culture and it's impact on the world we live in. And if this crazy trainwreck of a building doesn't make you smile (or at least shake your head in bemusement), you are truly dead to irony.

There are some who argue that we are  beyond postmodern- "post-postmodern"- and in the larger society, this may be true. There is one place, however, that I believe the postmodern aesthetic and spirit live on, and that is the world of Lolita fashion.

Lolita fashion came about in the 1970's in Japan as an extension of the worldwide fascination with romanticized Victorian historical dress (think Gunne Sax here in the west)- and I contend- as an extension of the new postmodern ethic. It is no surprise that Japan was the home to Lolita, as their rich history of "cultural borrowing" made them supremely comfortable with cherry-picking the most appealing parts of western historical dress, and reassembling them into a frothy pastiche that bore the unmistakable mark of Japanese kawaii aesthetics. Lolita grew to worldwide fame in the 1990's- at exactly the same time postmodernism was reaching its zenith- and became recognizable as the fashion subculture that exists today.

Top: "Otome" or maiden style from 1979- this is very in-line with the whole historical romantic/Pairie Style movement in the west (even though true "historical" Japanese maidens would have been rocking yukatas and kimono!) 

Bottom: 90's Lolita from the pages of Fruits Magazine. Notice how "Gunne Sax-y" the top still looks.  Both pictures are from this blog post, which is a great succinct history of Lolita.

Lolita has become much more than just a tweaking of western Victorian-era styles. Today, Baroque, Rococo, Empire, Regency, Edwardian, post WWII  "New Look", traditional Asian, punk, and even 1980's children's wear influences can all be clearly seen in Lolita style. With all of that historical input, the resulting pastiche is not unlike the building above, in fashion form: 

http://theheianprincess.tumblr.com/image/71857471294

She's wearing an Empire/Regency bonnet, very Rococo-esque sleeves and frills(including a faux stomacher of sorts), the print on the dress appears to be hoop-skirted Victorian ladies at a ball, done in a style reminiscent of children's "Holly Hobbie" bedsheets of the 70's-80's, on top of a poofy skirt held aloft by 50's New Look-esque petticoats that cuts off at the knees like an early 60's dress. Whew! If that doesn't make you smile, or at least shake your head in bemusement, you are truly dead to irony.

So, the pastiche/simulacra side of Lolita is pretty easy to understand. But, what about the commentary/criticism? Is the above outfit intentionally ironic, or did it just end up that way? I would argue that the look above is very intentional, and that ultimately, that is the heart of Lolita's appeal. 

Before I move on, I would like to concede that every designer (and wearer) of Lolita is not making a conscious choice to incorporate elements from exactly the eras represented above, in exacting combination, to make a specific comment on society/fashion/women's roles, etc. In the same way that many pieces of postmodern art or architecture have been made as general commentary, or to appeal to a real, but perhaps unexamined impulse of the popular culture, so are many Lolita outfits a visceral interpretation of the zeitgeist of the 21st century global community from which they arise. That being said, for those inside the Lolita community, the commentary is profound, moving, and deeply embedded in the constant tension between their self-concept and the larger society's definition of their roles.