Diamantes and development
on It began in Africa (Kenya), 27/May/2011 21:00, 34 days ago
I recently bought a new dress. Now, when I say new, what I really mean is a some westerner's cast-off, sent to a charity shop or clothes bin and then shipped out to the developing world as "aid". These items are then bought in bulk in countries like Kenya and sold-on at low cost. Urban myths abound of expats finding clothes they threw out last year being flogged for 50 bob in the local market (my dress cost 400 bob/ approx.£3.20).Some argue that this influx of cheap clothes has undermined local suppliers and prevented a home-grown tailoring industry from emerging; certainly the second-hand clothes markets sprawl across Nairobi like a rash. One of the things that makes me chuckle here is seeing people wearing Tesco fleeces or ex-Post Office jackets - I even saw a lady today in what was clearly a stag-do T-shirt once upon a time, bearing the legend 'FBI - Female Body Inspectors'.Now, I like my "new" dress, but it hasn't quite managed to fulfill my growing need to go shopping. The problem is that I don't just want to do any old shopping - I want to go to a beautiful shop with lovely things, where there are various sizes available for every item, where everything has a fixed price, a hanger and a smart bag, where the changing rooms are spacious and clean. The market experience (rummaging for hours to find something that you both like and is in your size, then standing behind a grubby curtain to try it on, then haggling for ages for something that looks a bit tired anyway) just doesn't quite hit the spot.The other alternative is to find a local tailor and ask them to make something to measure. It's very affordable here, but not without its peril: volunteers' experiences to date have been varied, shall we say. There is even one dress of which we are not allowed to speak, it was so bad. Then there is still the haggling, and then the re-negotiation (because negotiation is never truly finished here), then the process of explaining what you want only to get something else entirely. I am still trying to psyche myself up for this particular scenario.On the one hand this shopping craving makes me feel pretty guilty. I'm surrounded by people scraping by on naff all, but I still can't help popping onto the Topshop website on my lunchbreak 'just to see'. Plus, of course, our ability tobuy cheap, almost disposable clothes back homeis hardly helping the world's over-consumption problems.On the other hand, Kenyan women can be very glamorous. The newspapers are full of aghast men complaining about how much money their girlfriends demand for fortnightly trips to the hairdresser's; despite perilous pavements and open drains women still totter to work in skyscraper heels; and my Muslim boss colour-coordinates her headscarves and eyeshadow (impressive work).As with most things in Kenya there is a big divide in women's dress by age, by social class and between Nairobi and the rest of Kenya. In the city hip young women wear skinny jeans, off-the-shoulder tops and insane heels; in the country, women keep their hair covered and wear demure skirt/ top outfits in traditional African fabrics. Kenyan's are generally very smart though, and like to indulge in the odd grumble about half-dressed, scruffy Mzungu NGO workers cluttering the place up. Work wear, in particular, is very conservative, and I fail epically to meet basic standards on this score, somehow always seeming to look like I've just fallen out of a backpackers' hostel.So as with most things Kenyan I remain conflicted and confused. Is it less socially acceptable to have my shoulders uncovered or to wear trainers at a meeting? Are Kenyan women modern or traditional? And how do I fit into that? Does how I dress reinforce or challenge stereotypes about Western women? And should I even care?