Maeve Day 5

Saturday was the first day of testing out our newly formed methodology. People don't really show up until 11 AM, but that gave us time to chat with the security guards and read the materials on Vlisco provided in the study room. The Vlisco materials made it clear that the company is really focused on its ties to African femininity in all its forms--their advertisements were targeting nostalgia and connections to motherhood as well as a high-fashion palate and businesswomen.

How to pretend you aren't observing someone: take pictures of everything else around you.

It's definitely easier to understand how visitors are making meaning from the exhibit when they are with other people, because their conversations and interactions make it a lot clearer what they're thinking and what they find important in the exhibit. I wrote my observations on six maps, but some couples/families stayed together for the duration of their visit, so I was technically observing more than just six people. It's hard to choose which person I want to observe when they walk in, because I only have a split second before they start engaging (or not!) with the exhibit.

People really like to imitate this guy's stance.

The most notable visitor experience I had also raised a lot of questions for me. I was following a member type (white woman in approximately her sixties) for a little over twenty minutes when she went to ask the security guard something about one of the power figures. The security guard (with whom we had briefly interacted at the beginning of the day) then referred her to me. She seemed vaguely knowledgeable about the power figures and African history in general, and her question had to do with something on a label that didn't make sense to her (she was misreading it). Because it was just a question of legibility, I was actually able to clear it up, but I kept emphasizing that I really didn't know much about the figures, the exhibition design process, or really anything in there. She was very interested in the hand gestures the power figures were making and wondered aloud if it might have something to do with the Black Panthers. I was at a loss for words, but managed to tell her that since these all came from the Penn Museum, she might be able to find more information there. Are we allowed to keep the observations even if visitors interact with us? What should we tell guards--and visitors, for that matter--about what we're researching?

After that experience, I decided to go to the library and read a little more about Vlisco on the internet. It was about 1:45, and I wanted the knowledge to be fresh in my mind for the community conversation at 2:30. I wasn't very surprised by how difficult it was to find any information about Vlisco that hadn't been put out by the company itself. I'd be really interested to see a more comprehensive study of their policies, history, and interactions with Africa--since I'm interested in fashion, I'm intrigued by the tangled web of cross-cultural exchange they have woven alongside their textiles.

The best suit ever probably. But it was designed by an African-American--so is it African?

One of the first things that came out of the Vlisco conversation was the acknowledgement that many of us at the table were using the word "we" to refer to Western tastes. Most of the visitors mentioned being struck by the colors and patterns, and wondered at the boldness used in African design. One person mentioned that the effect of this color shock was that it "got me ready for difference," a statement I really liked. Another exhibit was brought up for a comparison point, and while discussing it, a man said that "even though these fabrics weren't made in Africa, they represent Africanness"--something Vlisco would probably love to put in their promotional materials. Some of the interesting questions that arose from the conversation were the problem of who could be said to be influencing whom, what it means to call something African (or European or global), how making meaning out of fabric can be a form of resistance, and who is determining the parameters of African femininity/African taste? I tried not to get too worked up talking about wearing clothing to send messages--it had been mentioned multiple times at the table as an example of something distinctly African, but I wanted everyone to realize that it wasn't so much that African women are the only people using fashion to send messages, rather that they had a much more complex and codified language for it. I have a lot of feelings and thoughts about clothes and their meanings, but I often forget that everyone else in the world isn't sitting around trying to literally wear their hearts on their sleeves.

I love the back of this dress.

After discussing everyone's reactions to the exhibit, the history of Vlisco, and the role of African women (specifically the Mama Benz) in fashion, the conversation shifted to focus on appropriation. The first part of the conversation had been really interesting to me because I am used to thinking of appropriation in a solely negative light. It reminded me that appropriation is about taking something and infusing it with new meaning, which can be negative--like when people wear Native American war bonnets to festivals because it "looks cool" without recognizing the deeper meaning of the garment and the complex history of Native oppression--but it can also be positive, like when African women take numbered fabrics and give them new names that absorb the designs into their cultures. I also enjoyed hearing everyone's personal stories about cultural appropriation, because it really seemed to help clarify the discussion.