How 6 Indigenous Designers Are Using Fashion to Reclaim Their Culture

The line between inspiration and appropriation in fashion is oftentimes blurred. Nobody knows this better than the indigenous community, whose sacred prints, hand-burnished leatherwork, and beaded appliqués have been imitated by fashion houses for centuries. This type of cultural appropriation, where labels draw from deep-rooted design codes without crediting the culture they are taking them from, is particularly harmful to indigenous people, who have been, and continue to be, marginalized. But now, a new crop of indigenous designers in North America is fighting back, using their collections to spotlight cultural activism and grassroots movements that are more important now than ever—especially given recent events, such as the pipeline protests at Standing Rock.

These unique designers hail from a variety of distinctive tribes, from Ojibwe to Kiowa, and are fusing their cultures’ time-honored craftsmanship with new, unexpected flourishes, such as graphic silk screen or 3-D printing. The unifying message? Reclaiming their heritage in a time when indigenous people continue to remain invisible. The collections, which range from jewelry to ready-to-wear, find inspiration in traditionally meaningful elements such as animals, historical government documents, and ornate regalia pieces, such as the powwow dresses worn by Crees, Crows, and many other groups, each one different in nature. “The biggest misconception about indigenous design is that it’s all the same,” said designer Bethany Yellowtail. “Crows are very different than Navajos, and Cheyennes are very different than Ojibwes. It’s really important to tell those stories through our design.”

Thankfully, indigenous fashion is finally gaining some ground. This week, Toronto will follow in the footsteps of Australia and Vancouver, British Columbia, by hosting its first-ever Indigenous Fashion Week. This four-day initiative will give designers a much-needed platform and serves as a promising counterpoint to the pervasive appropriation still found on today’s runways. “When an indigenous person can take up space and present an honest, individual point of view of who they are, that is incredibly powerful,” said designer Evan Ducharme. It will feature runway shows from designers such as Ducharme, panel discussions about cultural appropriation, and a shoppable marketplace stocked with authentic indigenous-made products. (Last year, the “Native Fashion Now” exhibition also launched at the National Museum of the American Indian in New York City, which displayed the disruptive works of more than 60 indigenous designers.)

Below, meet six rising indigenous talents from across North America as they sound off on their latest collections, the need for activism, and the power of reconciliation.

Bethany Yellowtail
Label: B.Yellowtail
Tribe: Crow and Northern Cheyenne
Based in: Los Angeles, California

Indigenous activism is gaining further momentum, and Bethany Yellowtail, one of the most prominent indigenous designers working now, is fueling that energy. The women’s ready-to-wear designer—who was involved in the Women’s March and Standing Rock protests last year, and starred in a six-part docuseries, titled Alter-Native—uses her platform to spotlight protest fashion. Protesting has always played an integral role in the history of indigenous people: From Sacheen Littlefeather refusing Marlon Brando’s Academy Award, due to the unfair treatment of indigenous people in Hollywood, to the recent Standing Rock protests, the indigenous community has proven to be its own biggest agent for change.

Drawing from that history, Yellowtail released a capsule collection in December that specifically looked at the activism work of her ancestors. It resulted in Yellowtail’s version of traditional wing dresses and skirts, all inspired by notable Crow and Northern Cheyenne women who have served in battle. “This collection has an intensity about it, but you can really see the traditional elements,” said Yellowtail. “It’s inspired by frontline defenders, and the women leading our community. [During the protests,] I connected with brilliant women from all walks of life—women getting arrested on the front lines.”

Yellowtail also created pieces specifically for participants of last year’s Indigenous Women Rise: Women’s March. She debuted a limited-edition silk scarf named Women Warrior, which was printed with a scene of her Crow culture’s war bonnet dance. “It’s important that fashion gets involved in a way that’s not just for a trend,” said Yellowtail. “It’s for the long-term, because these fights are ongoing.”

Yellowtail was born and raised in Montana between the Crow Indian Reservation and neighboring Northern Cheyenne Indian Reservation. At 18, she moved to Los Angeles to study design at the Fashion Institute of Design & Merchandising and launched her label in 2015 after working for private labels and brands such as BCBG Max Azria. “I realized that there isn’t a space that authentically represents native people,” Yellowtail said. “I was working for brands that would come out with ethnic or indigenous-inspired collections, but I didn’t connect with them. It was a light bulb moment. I needed to create my own space.”

In addition to her own line, Yellowtail also launched the B.Yellowtail Collective, a retail platform on her website that supports other indigenous artists and designers, from First Nation people in Canada to artists in the northern Plains. She hopes it will help promote a sense of economy and self-autonomy for designers in more segregated reservation communities. “There are so many brilliant artists in indigenous communities, but many times they don’t get their work sold for what they’re actually worth,” said Yellowtail. “On the site, they get the majority of the retail cost, and they’re getting it paid directly to them.”

Keri Ataumbi
Label: Ataumbi Metals
Tribe: Kiowa
Based in: Santa Fe, New Mexico

Keri Ataumbi is fusing the old with the new. Through her jewelry label, Ataumbi Metals, the designer combines her Kiowa culture’s organic materials with innovative, high-tech finishes. “I combine traditional indigenous elements, like quillwork or featherwork, with traditional and contemporary goldsmithing techniques, like [computer-aided design] and 3-D printing,” Ataumbi said.

Ataumbi was raised on the Wind River Indian Reservation in Wyoming and later attended both the Rhode Island School of Design and the College of Santa Fe. She began showing artwork in galleries, but by 2012, she shifted her focus to her true passion, jewelry, launching her label in 2014. “By that point, my work had already started to be collected by museums and by private collectors,” she added.

She currently creates her jewelry from her Cerrillos Hills studio, located just outside of Santa Fe. Highlights in the latest collection include Ataumbi’s statement earrings finished with porcupine hair or pheasant feathers—materials that are traditional to Kiowa craft—and 18-karat gold. A buffalo intaglio ring is finished in gold and diamonds, while a gold and silver hoop necklace mimics the hoops used by powwow hoop dancers. “I’m interested in making work that combines elements that we as indigenous people hold valuable—elk teeth, buffalo, feathers—with elements that are considered valuable in the popular culture such as diamonds, high-karat gold, and precious stones,” said Ataumbi.

The designer explained that consulting her community’s elders has been key when approaching any historical or spiritual references. This is something Ataumbi said nonindigenous brands often fail to do, which leads to an insensitive appropriation of sacred items—such as headdresses—that should never be used in a fashion setting. She hopes her own line will inform consumers about the context and thoughtfulness that goes into indigenous design, something even she must consider. “I’m very conscious of the elements from my culture that are inappropriate to share through my work, and other elements that can be a tool to help create connections and honor our traditional aesthetics,” she said.

Curtis Oland
Label: Curtis Oland
Tribe: Líl’wat Nation
Based in: Toronto, Canada

For his menswear brand, Canadian designer Curtis Oland is looking to natural elements to challenge the industry’s problem with wastefulness—an environmental focus that continues to stand at the heart of indigenous culture. “My aim is to evoke more thought about where our things come from,” said Oland. “There is so much spiritual energy that is imbued within a garment. There’s energy from the deer that gave its hide, from the worms that created the silk, from the sheep that gave its wool, and from all the human hands that these materials pass through to get to me.”

Considering the indigenous community’s connectedness to the earth—or Turtle Island, as they call it—the designer’s focus on nature is indeed rooted in his upbringing. Oland grew up in British Columbia’s Okanagan Valley, where he didn’t live on a reservation but was surrounded by indigenous practices. “What inspires me most is the teachings I grew up on—the respect and appreciation we must have for life and one another, and for the gifts we receive from the earth,” said Oland. “I strive to be sustainable and ethical with the production of my garments and position myself within the industry to foster change.” Oland eventually moved to Toronto to study design at Ryerson University. In 2014, he debuted his first men’s collection during Toronto Men’s Fashion Week’s Emerging Menswear Designer Award competition, which he won.

His most recent collection, titled Visceral Architecture, was inspired by the raw, and “grotesquely beautiful,” elements of human biology. “I was thinking about the miraculous structure that is the body,” he said. “We try to turn a blind eye to the uncomfortable thought of flesh and bone. I wanted to portray these grotesque visuals in an elegant form.” Pieces in the collection included a focus on raw, unfinished materials, including leather trousers and trenchcoats, or thick, intestine-like wool belts. Even Oland’s simpler pieces contained deliberately unorthodox details, like a short-sleeved top that is spliced at the side and then laced up.

Though he has currently put his own label on pause to consult with a brand in London, he plans to return to his label soon to continue his eco-minded focus. He will also participate in an exhibition during Toronto’s Indigenous Fashion Week.

Jamie Okuma
Label: Jamie Okuma
Tribe: Shoshone-Bannock and Luiseño
Based in: Pauma Valley, California

Multi-platform artist Jamie Okuma may design ready-to-wear and accessories, but her work is also considered to be art at the highest degree. The Shoshone-Bannock and Luiseño artist, who is based on the La Jolla Indian Reservation, began experimenting with art and fashion design when she was only 18, and launched her fashion brand in 2015. “I’m completely self-taught,” said Okuma. “My whole career has been a work of trial and error.”

Her fashion pieces, which double as artworks, have since caught the attention of global museum curators, appearing in institutions such as the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art, where her beaded shoes, titled Adaptation, are currently on view. Her ready-to-wear is also currently on display at the Texas Fashion Collection at the University of North Texas, and she recently won the Best of Show award from Heard Museum Guild Indian Fair and Market for her soft sculpture Protect, Honor, Cherish, featuring a Shoshone mother and her child in a cradleboard.

Okuma is best known for her “indigenized” takes on luxury brands. Her most recognized work is her hand-beaded Christian Louboutin shoes, which have been covered with intricate patterns of swallows, or embellished with porcupine quills and chicken feathers. The pieces take up to six months to create and convey a cheeky reversal of roles when it comes to appropriation: indigenous designers drawing from mass fashion brands, instead of the other way around. (Insider tip: She’s also currently working on customizing a pair of Giuseppe Zanottis.)

Last year, Okuma also debuted a new ready-to-wear collection during the “Native Fashion Now” exhibition in New York. The capsule included amped-up interpretations of traditional ribbon dresses and jingle dresses seen at powwows. For Okuma, though, creating indigenous design has never been an outright desire—instead, she found power in using fashion to reclaim her heritage. “When I was younger, I wanted to go mainstream, meaning being just a designer—not a native designer,” said Okuma. “Now, I realize that’s not a bad thing. In a world where we are not supposed to be labeling, I feel I need to embrace it. Nobody can do indigenous design better than we can.”

Okuma is currently working on her Fall couture and ready-to-wear collections. And though her pieces have traveled around the globe, Okuma said living on her reservation continues to foster her greatest moments of creativity. “Being connected has never been a struggle [for me],” said Okuma. “I have lived on the reservation since I was 4, and I’m working here as well raising my family. The culture is around me at all times.”

Evan Ducharme
Label: Evan Ducharme
Tribe: Métis
Based in: Vancouver, British Columbia

For women’s ready-to-wear designer Evan Ducharme, exploring his Métis heritage provides a constant source to satisfy his curiosity. The designer, who launched his brand in 2012, was born in Winnipeg, Manitoba, and grew up on the lakeside community of St. Ambroise. “It’s been Métis territory for over 100 years,” Ducharme said. “Growing up there really ingrained that sense of pride in being indigenous, and it’s been an invaluable resource to draw from for my work.”

Ducharme learned to sew from his family of dressmakers. In 2010, he moved to Vancouver to study at the Visual College of Art and Design. Fast-forward to this past August, and Ducharme debuted his latest collection, titled Atavism, during Vancouver’s inaugural Indigenous Fashion Week—an initiative that allows for authentic portrayals of modern indigenous culture. “Something like fashion, which is incredibly visual, is the perfect medium,” Ducharme said.

The designer, who will also showcase at Toronto’s Indigenous Fashion Week, plans to reveal a new collection that will serve as an extension from Atavism, which embraces time-honored practices from his Métis heritage in new ways, as seen in his embroidered T-shirts and dresses. “One of the main pieces of handiwork is the weaving of the Métis sash, which was originally done by hand and then later done with a loom,” said Ducharme. “We created an embroidery technique where we take a similar thread and patterns, but then apply it onto an athletic mesh.”

The collection also includes graphic prints of a historical census document Ducharme found while researching his family lineage. “My great-grandfather was listed with a French racial origin, then it was scratched out and replaced with Indian tribal origin,” said Ducharme. “Whoever was collecting the census didn’t know how to list him.” He digitized the print and applied it onto bomber jackets, pencil skirts, and clutch bags.

Louise Solomon
Label: Hand of Solomon
Tribe: Ojibwe
Based in: Toronto, Canada

While much of the indigenous population still continues to live on reservations, Ojibwe jewelry designer Louise Solomon is redefining what it means to be an “urban native.” Solomon, who is from the Chippewas of Nawash Unceded First Nation, was born and raised in downtown Toronto. Her fine jewelry label, Hand of Solomon, was launched in 2013 and reflects the designer’s upbringing in the city. It fuses elements from her culture—birchbark work, moose hair tufting, fish scale art—with modern motifs, like precious metals and gems. “A biomechanical look is my favorite—a piece that is grounded in nature, but has a futuristic look,” said Solomon. “I aim to bridge both spaces, and show what being indigenous in this time and space means to me.”

Solomon studied jewelry design at Toronto’s George Brown College. Though she grew up in the city, she said she has never felt disconnected from her heritage. “I may have been the only indigenous student in my school, but it never was a problem,” said Solomon. “Seeing my friends’ beautiful cultures and traditions sent me on the quest to learn more about mine and reach out to elders and knowledge keepers, who have given me a better understanding of who I am.”

Standout pieces from Solomon’s latest collection include braided wedding bands inspired by sweetgrass, available in a variety of finishes from sterling silver to 18-karat gold. Her medicine wheel pendant, made from four colors of Swarovski crystals, represents her culture’s four directions teachings, or the call to live a complete and balanced life. Her latest collection was also inspired by wolves and includes wolf claw castings made into chains, pendants, cuff links, rings, and earrings. “Indigenous people and the wolf have very similar stories and share many commonalities,” said Solomon. “To me, the wolf represents family, pride, and resilience—qualities that are so important for us to instill in our youth for a stronger tomorrow.”

By showcasing a more urbane take on her culture, Solomon hopes her nontraditional approach will shed light on the diverse backgrounds and teachings indigenous people hold. In other words: No more generic stereotypes. “The more we talk about cultural appropriation and bring it to light,” she said, “the closer we can come to reconciliation.”

Let’s block ads! (Why?)