ESSAY—SERIOUS PLAY: 'PERCEPTION IS REAL, THE TRUTH IS NOT'
An essay by Sifra Coulet about the exhibition Diapers in Diamonds. In collaboration with Mister Motley.
A dead serious dress-up play. I keep thinking about that when I see photos of the Diamonds in Diapers collection by artist and fashion designer Jose Marie Sta. Iglesia. He graduated from the Royal Academy of Arts at the Textile and Fashion department with this collection. During his current working period at the Hague collective Das Leben am Haverkamp, he is given the opportunity to further develop the work. Prior to the exhibition, I delve into his graduation work and sources of inspiration.
In the graduation catalogue of the Royal Academy of Arts, I find beautiful photos of a fashion show. . With serious expressions on their faces, masculine models wear extravagant gowns that often leave their shoulders and midriffs exposed. Dressing up is a game, but as Dutch cultural historian Johan Huizinga described the playing human in his influential book Homo Ludens (1938), these models also do so in full seriousness. “... [I]t plays, and it knows that it plays,” Huizinga writes about the human as a playing species.
I wonder for a moment if the models could have been feminine looking. However, I can't seem to imagine that without losing the sense of dressing up and play. I think that has to do with the casting of the models. They are not androgynous types, but rather 'rough and raw' like Sta. Iglesia himself describes them. Not sturdy or muscular, rather slim, but often with facial and body hair and coarse facial features. The sense of dressing up and play that I associate the photographs in the collection with arises from the contrast between the rough masculine bodies and the voluminous, carefully draped textiles in which they are wrapped.
The fabrics that Sta. Iglesia uses, look both supple and stiff. He uses sharp pleats, but takes the space to let the textile fan out lushly. In soft shades of pink, blue and grey, either combined with denim or subtle houndstooth check print. A single black piece combined with a skirt of colourful sequins completes the composition, in my opinion. Its grandeur counterparts the rest of the collection, which is more light and frivolous. These pieces are embellished with applications: feathers, pearls, but also gold-coloured forks. I admire how the clothing retains a certain subtlety despite the volume and materials used. The stylized beauty of the items forms a beautiful contrast with the unpolished bodies of those who wear them.
I’m fortunate enough to have at least one garment in my closet that fits me like a glove. Every time I put on this silk jumpsuit, I feel how the fabric effortlessly follows every curve of my body and tightens slightly in just the right places. I aspire to have my wardrobe filled with these types of clothes only; clothing that, more than a second skin, is a kind of 2.0 version of my body. The garments from the Diamonds in Diapers collection are the superlative of this. Where I wear the silk jumpsuit, which metaphorically lifts me up, Sta. Iglesia's pieces seem to elevate the models. I’m not just looking at a more beautiful version of the models, but at a completely new, improved version. The space they literally and figuratively occupy, wrapped in his creations, makes them larger than life.
For the Collection, Sta. Iglesia drew strong inspiration from the former First Lady of the Philippines, Sta. Iglesia's country of origin: Imelda Marcos. I watch The Kingmaker, a documentary about Imelda Marcos and I'm torn between fits of incredulous laughter and horror. Marcos initially reminds me of the character Hyacinth Bucket in Keeping Up Appearances, a British sitcom from the 1990s. Hyacinth is a woman who does everything she can to give the appearance that she belongs to the upper class. She is continuously hindered in this by her lower class sisters and brother-in-law. Hyacinth remains sympathetically amusing in her vain attempts to 'transcend' her origins, as she sees it herself. However, Imelda Marcos quickly stops being funny.
Imelda Marcos is the widow of Ferdinand Marcos, the president of the Philippines from 1965. His dictatorial regime came to an end in 1986 after a people’s uprising, causing the family to flee the country. After a number of years, the family (Marcos senior now deceased) returns to the Philippines. Imelda Marcos continues to exert influence and is closely involved in the political campaigns of son Ferdinand Marcos Junior. In 2022, he becomes the new president of the country after being elected.
With the title of his collection, Sta. Iglesia refers to the fact that Marcos, when fleeing the Philippines, hid diamonds in the diapers of her grandchildren. For Sta. Iglesia this action of Marcos touches the core of the controversy. He states that he is interested in that spot between perfume and rot that Marcos occupies. I'm also intrigued by Marcos when I see the film. It appals me to see how ruthlessly she continues to persist in her own myth. In this story she is the mother of the Filipino people, who generously gives money as she passes by. The woman who manages to stop wars by befriending dictatorial world leaders in a single encounter. The muse whose job it is to display beauty and opulence to uplift the people.
Meanwhile, the same people are being cheated out of trillions and opponents and activists are being violently silenced. Marcos continuously withdraws from the facts, whether it concerns the accusation of murder or when we see her accidentally knocking over some of the framed photos of herself with world leaders on display. She doesn't even blink her eyes, but continues speaking unperturbed and guides the camera with a wave of her hand to the photos that are still upright. The camera zooms in on one of her employees, who is quietly cleaning up the shards.
“Perception is real, the truth is not,” Marcos believes. With her meticulously groomed appearance, her incredible array of clothes and shoes, and the lavish interior of her apartment, Marcos represents a specific kind of luxurious beauty. It is precisely this kind of beauty that Sta. Iglesia grasps with his collection, by creating beautiful armours to completely wrap yourself in. Not to subtly highlight some of your own beauty, but to portray a self-created character. A character who is bigger, more beautiful, better than you think you are. The term dress-up and play also comes to mind when I watch Marcos. It is bitter and almost unbelievable to see how many people still value the character of Marcos in the film. They worship this cruel mother as the bright star in the dark night she imagines herself to be.
The models that show the collection of Sta. Iglesia, play their game seriously, but self aware. Marcos, however, has long since passed that point. I doubt she ever realised that perception is only real in the truth of the game. She has unfolded the game board for the Filipino people and determined the rules of the game. But what if even the most loyal participants are finally played out? What then remains of the perception of the mother, the muse, the myth? The work of Sta. Iglesia is a great attempt to wake up people and perhaps part of the Filipino people in particular. To remind them that a game has been going on for a long time and that they are still seriously, but unconsciously, participating in it.
Read more about the exhibition Diamonds in Diapers here.