‘Cause Tramps Like Us, Baby We Were Lawned To (Get) Run (Over)

I would have written this in February but I’ve been stuck in traffic outside a lawn exhibition since.

If you live in the open in Karachi, and not under a rock, you cannot have missed the wave of lawn related advertising that has been crashing upon our shores for the last few weeks, leaving sensory carnage in its wake. 2011 has seen a record number of brands flood the market. Some 30-odd designers have lent their names to collections, and if you count the textile mills without big name designers attached and the imitation lawn print makers the number reportedly edges well over fifty.

They call me Jofa, say it like Sofa, you look tired hon, lean on my Ottoman.

Women are unislamic. Look instead at my jeweled balls floating heavenwards.

Because April 1st was already taken, fool!

I love the way those bubbles of lightness float across pastel space almost as randomly as the way I park.

I must buy this aqua ensemble because it looks ridiculously expensive and so did my husband.

Nishat Textiles' Pink Lawn: why men don’t make passes at girls who wear glasses?

The trauma of a bad billboard or magazine shoot begins to seem like a pleasant memory, though, once the actual sale begins and you happen to be caught in the whirlpool outside. At such times, it becomes apparent why the sale is called an ‘exhibition’, consisting as it does of a shameless display of the worst attributes of most of the women who flock to them. Pushing, shoving, cattiness, oestrogen levels run so high that the hosts with the most have started arranging for Portaloo trucks to be parked outside so women can flee to the bathroom (in packs) and cry in each others arms at the way so and so kept them from buying the last print #666 K-21 Rs 2650.

Queue? Isn’t that a letter in the alphabet?

You’ve probably gathered by now that this is a rant about the willing vacuity and utter and complete lack of civic sense displayed by raving lawnatics rather than a critical analysis of the industry itself. That has already been attempted, in depth, by Karachi Feminist, in two posts about the exploitative working conditions of the women whose field work powers the business of what she dubs ‘blood cotton’. These include greater exposure to pesticide as the appetite for the fabric leads bosses to drive their crews harder, and the absence of any substantive wage increase, regulatory framework or protective rights umbrella for the vast majority of cotton pickers in Pakistan.

She makes a strong case for more ethical consumption and the reformation of labour laws. The benefits of the industry’s growth should, in theory, trickle down to the faceless pickers as well as the individual designers, fashion houses and textile behemoths who package the final product. As this industry continues to explode, each link in the chain from plant to pocket needs to figure out a way to satisfy its desire for dirty, pretty things without making innocent bystanders pay for it.

Pesticide in print? We’re SO ahead of that fashion curve…(Photo: SDPI)

But buying clothes, as some people will tell you, never killed anybody. How exactly is lawn singlehandedly responsible for the pitiful state of workers' lives? Should we also stop buying unbranded fabric, cushion covers, tablecloths, t-shirts, shifts from Sheep, pants from Ego and kurtis from Khaadi? Should we, like, not wear any clothes at all?

Please do. You must. We absolutely insist. Just make sure you’re ok with any hidden costs too.

And don’t act like this is what cars are for when you go to buy them (Photo: Ittehad Textile Mills)

In conclusion, I would like to remind you, in the words of lawn's latest self-appointed messiah, that it is not just a fabric…it’s a lifestyle. It’s a philosophy. It’s a religion. It’s a science. With rockets in it.

Or as his Press Release puts it:

"On the announcement of the launch of The World of HSY Prints, head designer and CEO of the HSY design house Hassan Sheheryar Yasin has said “The World of HSY’s first collection of prints introduced for S/S 2011 is a celebration of self expression, striking a balance between tradition and experimentation where our designs mirror the emotions, cultural heritage and characteristics of the modern Pakistani woman. Having successfully launched couture, resort and prêt lines over our decade long history in fashion, this year we are proud to extend our repertoire to our first ever luxury print collection”"

All of which is aptly communicated by a giant billboard of a man in a suit.

Come, my witless flock, let me fleece you.