Myanmar to Korea: Traditional Dress

Growing up in the UK as an Asian minority, I often neglected my heritage more than I should have. After all, when it comes to filling in forms - something one has been constantly doing in the past month, (UCAS!) - my ethnicity is summarized and ticked into one tiny box: 'Other Asian'.

Aside from political correctness, peers and adults alike in school never really had a clue where the hell I'm from. And their guesses, some more educated than others, were always close but so far. Either ways, it wasn't entirely their fault that my country, Myanmar formerly Burma, is such a "hidden gem", or rather more infamously known in its recent past as a pariah state.

 Honestly, having found an interest in Korean culture was actually one of my earliest 6 year old memories I was openly able to share with not only my mum, but later my group of best friends in high school. It was by chance I sat down one afternoon with my mum to watch one of the biggest K-Dramas to hit Korea that year: 'Full House', starring bright faced Song Hye Kyo and Rain 비. The Hallyu wave had hit Myanmar three years prior with the broadcasting of 'Autumn in my Heart'; the film was so widely acclaimed across the nation that fans began to refer to the drama simply by the characters' names: Eun-Seo 은서 and Jun-Seo 준서. Since then my mother has long veered off the path of the K-drama addict, only briefly revisiting the scene in 2012 to watch 'To the Beautiful You' with me, arguing that Sulli was the complete doppelganger of my friend Isabel >_< ; in fact she finished the drama before I ever had the chance to as well! Hence the fateful entrance of this "hidden gem" into my life, a pastime that has become more than just that, (as in upgrading to a degree level), has altered my attitude towards my own heritage and others lack of regard for it.

  

Two men wearing
longyi while paying
homage at a pagoda. 

As a child, the closest I would come to my ethnic identity, aside from speaking the language as my mother tongue (with imperfect pronunciation and a colourful but limited vocabulary range) and eating the food every day (which I mostly take for granted), is when I dressed in the clothing of my home country. Given that these weren't everyday dress either, they were pretty damn special! Neither of my parents wore traditional clothing at home either - with the exception of my father sometimes wearing the casual longyi - so it was an occasion to be donning the costumes. But upon researching further into the history of Burmese clothing, which is really just a blanket title for the multiple variations of indigenous ethnic dress from the country, specifically women's clothing has evolved greatly just within the 20th century itself. In a nutshell, rationing during WWII led to shorter quarter sleeves from traditionally long sleeves to eventually end up with even no sleeves! With the emergence of cinema and film stars, fabrics for blouses aain kyae အင်္ကျီ turned sheer and higher waisted than the prim overcoats and blouses of the 19th century.

Nonetheless, the dresses my sister and I had gotten measured and sewn custom made from Myanmar were actually more modernized than we'd imagined. Unlike most countries nowadays, even urban city dwellers, like the Yangonites of our hometown, still retain the customary fashions of their ancestors by mainly sporting the typical fabrics, textures and cuts of old Burma. Of course this cannot be said of recent times: colours and patterns particularly are brighter and bolder in today's fashion trends. However, the long skirts (htamein/longyi) women wear, maxi skirts as we would identify it in western styles, are still the same in length and flow. Much less gown-like than maxi skirts but with freer movement than the sarong-like wrap around skirts I grew up wearing with belts, in order to avoid an "accident", i.e. the skirt dropping to my ankles.





Drawing of Myanma aawitcaar with 

   her wearing a gold necklace shwe swaer
   kwoe and a side fastening blouse called 

   a yin phone     



   Drawing of Myanma aawitcaar with 

   her wearing a gold necklace shwe swaer

   kwoe and a side fastening blouse called 

   a yin phone     



 

 

When comparing the Burmese way of dress to the Korean traditional dress, hanbok, both costumes configure completely different silhouettes, that as far as I know haven't been shared in its exact likeness with other neighbouring countries' national dress. As mentioned before, due to the variety of traditional Burmese dress (the outfits depicted in this article mainly of Bamar influence), the overlapping of designs do occur, and can give the impression of an overarching shared sense of identity, (that can be found at the National Races Village Park). But ultimately, even the spoken tongue in the different states and regions are distinct and are not traceable back to one originating mother language.

In this aspect, I truly admire the unity in which traditional Korean clothes tie regions together. Whether it's Hanbok 한복 in the South or Joseon-ot 조선옷 in the North, the texture and forms of traditional Korean dress has maintained its antiquity even through modern times when one typically reserves their Hanbok for special occasions. Through means of innovation, Korea's general demographic may have opted for the convenient wardrobe of the West, but it doesn't mean Hanbok will only be seen once a year either! The preservation of such an important factor of one's culture - with various pieces of Hanbok displaying essences of shamanistic motifs or royal emblems as well as its nomadic roots - is highly regarded today as a century ago when all wore the Hanbok in their everyday lives. This is highlighted by the fact that in 1996, the South Korean Ministry for Culture, Sports and Tourism declared every first Saturday of the month as Hanbok Day. In addition to that, the comeback of Hanbok more recently, reworked and modernised, has thrown Korean fashion into the international realm as well. Many famous Korean fashion designers have remodelled the iconic proportions of Hanbok, noticeably its high waisted skirt and short waisted bolero style blouse top. But not in a way the Hanbok becomes unrecognisable, but more appealing to the youth while still giving prominence to its heritage. One of these many fashion designers I have come to admire is Hwang Yi-Seul, AKA Dew Hwang. Here are some of her designs:

 

This first piece shows off the waist with a beautiful floral print skirt, adding a slender bow as an embellishment right above the hip. The sleeves of the blouse cuts before the elbow; the clean lines elegantly reminisces of the early Hanbok form while remaining 21st century chic. The colours are light and are very spring-like.

           

The next piece couldn't be anymore casual and easy for a Tuesday morning on campus. *imagining the situation with me in it xD * The use of denim revamps the whole Hanbok movement: as well as the easy-going folded back cuff look the model sports with this little number on. The A-line skirt, although on the short end, and dongjeong 동정 collar are what conserves the Hanbok features.

The third piece is by far my favourite: a classic winter look with its plum colour A-line skirt, still high waisted but lower than the first piece. Matched with the black chunky heeled boots and the cream coloured fur scarf against the off white long sleeved jeogori 저고리,  this piece presents a crisp fresh look, distinctly of Korean influence, without becoming too periodical an outfit.

The final number is modelled by no other than the designer herself, Dew Hwang 황이슬. She is dressed in a simple forest green pleat skirt, a relaxed silhouette of its uniquely preceding fuller and more elaborate Hanbok skirt, chima 치마. A more prominent Korean touch would be the 4 piece norigae 노리개 ornament tied to the left side of the chima's waist. Hwang keeps the outfit on the more candid side of the palette, by keeping the jeogori beige coloured: like how most working class women in Korean history would have their hanbok every day.

Drawing of the traditional Korean Hanbok: a

hair ornament called binyeo 비녀, stiff V neck collar
dongjeong 동정, bolero style inner jacket jeogori 저고리
 and an adorned ribbon worn long on the chest

goreum 고름.

Drawing of the lower half of the Hanbok: the A-line

skirt chima 치마, often disproportionate to its short waisted jeogori by 4 times the length in some instances; sokchima 속치마 is the multi layered underskirt that gives the hanbok its fuller gown like look; and hye 혜 is the fashionable pointed end shoes Korean women would wear.

And so to round this post off, the pictures below show me trying on both my native dress htamein, and the traditional Korean hanbok.
Though I do no justice to either outfit, one can see the sokchima's ribbons shamelessly peeping from under the jeogori >_< Plus the goreum rides up way to high on the jeogori. If anything, my photo shows how NOT to wear a hanbok.
As for the Bamar dress: it took me ages to find one that fit as well as that one did, and in the end, my leggings makes an unwanted feature in this awkward pose I'm throwing. The patterns in this particular number are seemingly of Thai influences as well. Although the neighbours often share more than textiles in cultural exchange.

Me dressed in a hanbok 한복 @ the Korean
Cultural Centre UK. yellow jeogori, pink
chima and a maroon goreum

Me in one of the many different styles of
traditional Burmese dress. [photo taken
@ Broadway Studios lol the pose is eek] 

-Louise c:



This song makes me reminisce of a time I've never lived through. Weird what music does, huh? Watch "Reply 1988" in the meantime! [I swear Hyeri is my aunt in back in the 80s!]