PATRIOTIC CLOTHING 2017

My second collection of “patriotic clothing” in a haute couture edition from 2017. I presented it during nine shows, including its premiere at the LAVA FESTIVAL, where Siksa performed live—wearing hussar wings designed by Kacper Szalecki—the song “Poljestrowe ścierwo,” on the Fashion Stage at Opener Festival, and at other events, such as my school’s graduation gala (the collection, incidentally, turned out to be my bachelor’s thesis and my farewell project with that school)—though at school they forbade me from playing that song. In the collection, I drew inspiration from contemporary patriotic clothing, Baroque styles, and Sarmatian noble attire based on optical illusions. It comprised 15 looks. – I was looking for inspiration that would offer an alternative to trends coming from Western Europe, which is why I turned to the myth and aesthetics of Sarmatism, particularly popular during the Baroque period. I based the construction of the garments on 17th-century tailoring methods used in the creation of Turkish attire, which the Sarmatians imitated. In the 17th century, the underarm seam was not marked, and the shapes were constructed from straight lines. I drew information on garment cutting methods from a text by Przemysław Mrozowski: “Clothing as an Expression of the National Consciousness of the Polish Nobility in the 16th–18th Centuries.” He writes: “It is interesting to note that the tailor had to cut the fabric in such a way as to use all the scraps (…) The cut itself was not complicated; the garment had a semicircular opening around the neck, was open in the front, with the right side overlapping the left.” 

 The outfits in my collection were put together according to the same principles. I also used prints that I designed myself. I didn’t leave any scraps behind either. Among the “most patriotic” pieces were, among others: a bodysuit made from sleeves cut from white-and-red soccer jerseys and a sports dress inspired by the kontusz. - “Evening tracksuit”—an outfit made of burgundy tie fabric with gold, white, and red stripes, - “Papal tracksuit” – an outfit sewn from shiny white fabrics with pants adorned with gold stripes; the pants also feature a patch with the Christogram IHS – a coat made from a blanket, modeled after a burka. The burka was brought to Poland by the Tatars, later adapted by the Cossacks, and subsequently by the hetmans of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth. – The burka is made from a blanket purchased at the Bałucki Market. The tiger’s head alludes to the leopard-print furs worn by magnates. – A design inspired by a 17th-century Turkish caftan. During the Baroque period, Christian liturgical vestments were sometimes made from Turkish fabrics. (“Entries in 17th-century inventories indicate that authentic Turkish garments were also occasionally worn in Poland. They must not have differed greatly in appearance from Polish attire, since they were often part of the everyday wardrobe of both nobles and townspeople.”

The immediate starting point for my design project was a painting by the Flemish Baroque artist Cornelis Gijsbrecht, *The Other Side of the Painting*, along with selected events from the history of clothing and the atmosphere of the place where I live.

For a long time, I lived in Bałuty. It is the city’s most famous and, at the same time, most notorious district. The rough-and-tumble elegance of Bałuty’s residents, its numerous secondhand clothing stores, and Bałuty Market—places I frequent—provide the backdrop and atmosphere for the garments I designed.

In search of inspiration that would offer an alternative to Western-dictated fashion, I turned to the noble myth of “Sarmatism,” which was particularly popular during the Baroque period. In my designs, I drew inspiration mainly from cutting methods typical of 17th-century Oriental tailoring, in which no underarm cut was marked, and shapes were constructed from straight lines. I obtained information on clothing cutting techniques in Turkey from a publication by Przemysław Mrozowski. He writes: “It is interesting to note that the tailor had to cut the fabric in such a way as to use all the scraps (…) The cut itself was not complicated; the garment had a semicircular neckline, was open at the front, with the right side overlapping the left.” The silhouettes in my collection were designed according to the same principles—to fully utilize the prints I designed, avoid generating scraps, and use 100 percent of the raw materials. The shapes are dictated by the limitations imposed by the surface area of the raw materials I use.

The fabrics and raw materials I used came mainly from “secondhand” sources. I sourced them primarily from thrift stores. That’s where, for example, the tablecloths and work polo shirts came from; I used them whole, pinning them to a mannequin, sewing them together after folding and draping them appropriately, and constructing original forms from them. I upcycled old sweaters, scarves, and pants, using fragments of them to create patchworks, appliqués, and structural additions. The textiles also come from the cheapest fabric stores, which mainly carry surplus fabrics imported from the West. These fabrics come from production surpluses or were rejected by stores due to damage or manufacturing defects. I chose the cheapest materials or received them for free as a bonus with other purchases (because, for example, no one had wanted to buy them since the store first opened). I found many materials abandoned in the school’s sewing workshop—for example, fabric swatches and scraps. In addition, the collection features inexpensive technical waterproof polyester fabrics intended for backpack production, as well as polyester velour. I printed original designs onto the polyester fabrics using the transfer method; these designs were created using the Paint graphics program. The collection is complemented by textiles not typically associated with ready-to-wear clothing—such as ribbons for decorating flowers, the aforementioned blanket, and haberdashery foil.

polishfashionstories described my collection most aptly:

“Where the colorful aesthetics of Sarmatism—which dominated Polish Baroque—meet the working-class clichés of communist-era fashion. Armada used secondhand clothing and elements of pre-owned textiles and transformed them into new forms of garments that border on haute couture. The final effect presents a playful yet grotesque interpretation of the style of ordinary Poles, incorporating its most characteristic elements.”