Nicole Perry
The cover of the July 2014 Elle UK magazine featured the American singer and record producer Pharrell Williams wearing a ‘hipster Headdress.’ The backlash to the magazine cover was swift and damning, with fans of the artist using the hashtag #nothappy, a play on his award-winning single ‘Happy,’ in reaction to the photo shoot. The response to Williams was indicative of a larger movement in popular culture happening at the time, namely the indictment of cultural appropriation and the wearing of hipster headdresses at music festivals and in fast fashion. In contrast, the French fashion designer Jean Paul Gaultier, the enfant terrible of the haute couture fashion scene, has been consistently appropriating different cultures in his fashion lines for years, yet only recently, in comparison to popular culture and fast fashion, has been confronted for his culturally contentious design choices. His 2002 bridal collection, for example, featured an Indigenous headdress as a type of wedding train. This is indicative of his continuous appropriation of other cultures, including South Asian, Hasidic Jewish and Māori, the Indigenous people of Aotearoa/New Zealand. In 2017, Kent Monkman, a Canadian multimedia artist of Cree ancestry, created a short film, Another Feather in her Bonnet, featuring his alter-ego Miss Chief Eagle Testickle and Jean Paul Gaultier in a wedding video-themed production in which Miss Chief, dressed in Gaultier’s 2002 wedding headdress, pledges to be Gaultier’s artistic muse. This essay will consider the issue of cultural appropriation versus cultural appreciation/inspiration of the Plains Indian Headdress in two different contexts: in popular culture and haute couture to explore the different reactions to the problematic use of the headdress in these spheres. Finally, I argue that Monkman’s video is an example of both an intervention and an indictment of cultural appropriation in haute couture, but the question remains: is it going far enough?
Appreciation vs Appropriation and Understanding the Plains Indian Headdress
The debate around cultural appreciation and cultural appropriation has taken center stage in popular culture in recent years. While the discourse surrounding the headdress and other cultural items of Indigenous North America and their use in both popular culture and haute couture has arguably been present since the 1960s, with the advent of the American Indian Movement (AIM), it experienced a resurgence with the improper use and wearing of headdresses at popular music festivals worldwide in the early 2010s. ‘It’s not like it’s new that native folks are upset and uncomfortable about it, […] It’s just now we have a platform and our voices can be heard.’[1] Social media has been crucial in this more recent movement to address the harm the hipster headdress, a cheap knockoff of Indigenous headdress regalia, and other forms of cultural appropriation have had on Indigenous peoples. The indictment of haute couture’s use of textiles, ornaments, patterns, and other materials, from different cultures has been slower, perhaps because the practice is more engrained and is simply understood as not only commonplace but also as acts of cultural appreciation instead of cultural appropriation. With the controversy surrounding the music festivals since about 2010, mainstream and social media have used different platforms, including short videos, blogs, vlogs, Facebook, and Instagram, to engage with, confront and educate the wider population on the controversial uses associated with the hipster headdress.
Mainstream and social media addressing the difference between cultural appreciation and cultural appropriation in an Indigenous context has also increased significantly since Williams’s appearance on the magazine cover in 2014. This awakening is linked to larger cultural discourses on Black cultural appropriation by celebrities, the music industry, and fast fashion in the United States. But the Indigenous discussion also has an overtly political context, inherently linked to the Black Lives Matter (BLM) movement started in the United States as a protest to the number of African American lives lost to police brutality and as a result of long-standing systemic racism. In an Indigenous context, the cultural appropriation debate has largely remained online and has been more decentralized than the BLM movement. In an attempt to educate, mainstream media has reacted to the cultural appropriation of Indigenous peoples and cultures, predominantly found during Halloween and music festivals, by offering bite-sized explanations, in plain talk, to clearly address the issue of appreciation versus appropriation. The Canadian Broadcasting Corporation (CBC) created a video addressing the topic in 2016, shortly before Halloween. In about three minutes, CBC Radio One host Rosanna Deerchild (Cree) in her segment Unreserved, addresses the angst she feels with Halloween approaching and the ‘Indigenous’ costumes that inevitably appear. She uses this as a platform to discuss appreciation versus appropriation from an Indigenous perspective, emphasizing that Indigenous peoples and their cultures are not costumes. The definition she uses are clear and straightforward: ‘Cultural appropriation: when someone takes elements from a culture that is not their own and remakes and reduces it into a meaningless pop-cultural item.’[2] Explaining cultural appreciation, Deerchild states that it ‘truly honors our nations’ art and cultures. You take time to learn and interact, to gain understanding of a culture or cultures different from your own,’[3] with the key being developing mutual appreciation and respect, being given consent and participating in the community. Deerchild also advocates for the learning of the collective Canadian histories, both Western and Indigenous, as a way to move forward together. The video is politically correct, a quintessential CBC production with Canadian humor and socio-cultural references. At the beginning of the segment, however, after saying, ‘…yes, and you can also be Indigeni for the low, low price of just $29.99,’ she makes a further comment as an aside, like the fine print on an insurance policy, speaking to the camera with her hand to the side of her mouth she says ‘oppression not included.’[4] Her tongue-in-cheek comment is indicative of one of the main characteristics of cultural appropriation by the dominant culture, that of the dominant culture’s ignorance towards the lived realities (and tragedies) and oppression of the other culture.
Cherokee academic and activist, Dr Adrienne Keene’s blog, Native Appropriations, acts as a forum to discuss representations of Indigenous peoples. Her entries address the use of stereotypes and cultural appropriation of Indigenous peoples and cultures, among other topics. One of her most cited posts, the 2010 ‘But why can’t I wear a hipster Headdress?’ is still relevant today and breaks down, again in plain talk, why it is not appropriate to wear a hipster headdress.
A predominant reason is the promotion of harmful stereotypes. The headdress itself promotes a nineteenth-century monolithic stereotype of Plains Indian peoples. One that engages with tropes seen in Western films, and which obfuscates the plurality of Indigenous peoples across Turtle Island, where over 500 recognized and distinct tribes reside in the United States and more than 600 in Canada.[5] The headdress is only found in a handful of tribes or nations and is thus not representative of Indigenous cultures at large. Reducing Indigeneity to only a few, problematic signifiers and conflating images of Indigenous peoples with the historic past, allows stereotypes to perpetuate and locates Indigenous peoples in this era-specific past and denies them a contemporary existence in the present and future.
Perhaps the most troubling use of the headdress in popular culture and haute couture is the lack of understanding about the significance of a headdress and what it means to have been given or gifted one. In Indigenous cultures, the headdress has both spiritual and tribal significance. Being gifted a headdress has been compared to earning a military medal and the recognition that entails. It is an item that is gifted to the person allowed to wear it. The act of gifting a headdress has a long history tied to ceremony and protocol. Not all Indigenous people may wear a headdress, it must be earned, and you must be given permission from the nation/tribe who gifted it to wear one. In 2016 the CBC spoke with Indigenous leaders across Canada and asked them to explain the importance of the headdress to a wider audience, highlighting the importance of the headdress to different Indigenous nations. Derek Nepinak, former Grand Chief of the Assembly of Manitoba Chiefs (2011–2017), emphasized the importance of being gifted a headdress for his work and dedication to the community. Nepinak summaries that:‘You don’t ask for a headdress, I never asked for a headdress. Just because you become a chief under a popular election, doesn’t mean that you’re granted the authority.’[6] He has two headdresses with distinct meanings and contexts. One belongs to the community, which he is allowed to wear. The second headdress was given to him by his Sundance family and is a Dakota (Plains Indian) style. Nepinak explains, ‘It is tied to my ceremonies, and the fasting that I’ve done over the years on the land, and that’s where the eagle feathers come from.’[7] He underscores in speaking about both headdresses the importance of his ties to the land and community and his dedication to both.
In the short film Headdress (2017), JJ Neepin, a member of the Fox Lake Cree Nation, describes her journey towards understanding the significance of the headdress in her family and nation. The roughly six-minute film, with interviews from both Neepin and her photographer Nadya Kwandibens from the Animakee Wa Zing #37 First Nation in northwestern Ontario, highlights the significance of the headdress in their cultures and the ‘heaviness’ of wearing a headdress along with the protocols and guardianship of finding and being given permission to wear a headdress – even though they and Neepin’s sister are Indigenous women. Their narratives are woven together, as Kwandibens says, ‘A headdress is not to be taken lightly; it’s not something you can just throw on at Coachella and dance around and go crazy and party-party with it. It’s totally not what it’s for. It’s a responsibility that you have to your nation and your fellow man. These are things that we wear that have significance.’[8]
Neepin expresses her apprehension at wearing the headdress even though she is from a lineage of leaders. She recognizes the cultural and spiritual significance of wearing a headdress and the responsibility associated with it. A community/collective has gifted this headdress. As she is adorned with the headdress for the first time, she notes not only the physical heaviness of a headdress but also the metaphorical – the responsibility that it entails.[9] Neepin also explains the disconnect she originally felt with her own culture when she first saw non-Indigenous people wearing headdresses. She speaks of her own indifference towards it or even seeing it as positive that white people were wearing a headdress. She acknowledges that learning more about her culture has activated a shift in attitude towards the issue of non-Indigenous people wearing headdresses as fashion add-ons. She expresses this by stating that, ‘When non-Indigenous people put on a headdress, they don’t quite understand the weight that those symbols have, and then to just wear it like a prop is very disrespectful.’[10]
Within Indigenous communities, traditions are continually shifting as to who can wear headdresses. In Canada, for example, the 1876 Indian Act affected Indigenous nations and cultures in a host of different ways, one of them being only men could be chiefs, which has impacted the gifting of headdresses in some nations. Chief Tammy Cook-Searson, who was recently elected for the seventh time as chief of the Lac La Ronge Indian Band,[11] is an example of a woman who has been gifted a headdress by her community. This does, however, remain contentious. But as Nepinak correctly maintains, this is an issue for Indigenous peoples and for Indigenous peoples alone to discuss and debate.[12]
One final point on non-Indigenous people wearing headdresses is the link to the legacies of colonialism and genocide that this symbolizes. The act of appropriation represents a further representation of the centuries of stolen land and repression of cultural traditions. Without learning about the other culture from which such items are being taken and the historical and spiritual significance of these items, the wearer of a hipster headdress is simply continuing this legacy for the sake of accessorizing a fashion trend.
Popular Culture and the Hipster Headdress
The example of the backlash towards Pharrell William’s appearance on the cover of Elle UK in 2014 was indicative of a larger debate that had been festering for some time in popular culture around the appropriation and use of different cultural clothing, textile patterns, and items. The hipster[13] headdress worn in the context of fast fashion and popular culture as a fashion accessory at music festivals and fashion shows worldwide has sparked a global debate surrounding the appropriateness of co-opting Indigenous items, which hold significant spiritual and cultural significance. The continual cultural appropriation of the headdress signifies a broader issue experienced by Indigenous communities and peoples, that of having to constantly justify and educate non-Indigenous peoples on why this type of behavior is not appropriate.
The controversy of hipster headdresses in fast fashion, at music festivals, and other outlets began to reach a wider audience after the problematic Pharrell Williams’s magazine cover and particularly after one music festival in the interior of British Columbia, Canada, decided to take a stand and ban the wearing of hipster headdresses at the venue. The Bass Coast Festival, which takes place on Indigenous land near Merritt, British Columbia, posted on its Facebook page: ‘We understand why people are attracted to war bonnets…They have a magnificent aesthetic. But their spiritual, cultural and aesthetic significance cannot be separated. Bass Coast festival takes place on indigenous land and we respect the dignity of aboriginal people.’[14]
While it wasn’t the first festival to ban hipster headdresses, it proved to be a watershed moment as the festival’s stance made headlines worldwide and was greeted with an outpouring of support online. Dorian Lynskey links this to the increase of online activism, pointing out that there was no official campaign to ban the hipster headdress at festivals or its use in fast fashion and popular culture.[15] Adrienne Keene, in her blog, has written extensively about the hipster headdress, although this is not her sole concern. Her blog explores many different facets of Indigeneity, stereotypes, and pop culture and navigates the world as an Indigenous woman. Keene, however, continually returns to the headdress, as it keeps appearing in popular culture and at events. Her post, ‘But Why Can’t I Wear a Hipster Headdress?,’[16] mentioned in the previous section, clearly makes the distinction between appreciation and appropriation. Keene and other activists rightly maintain that there is no longer an excuse for ignorance when it comes to this issue. The Bass Music Festival’s outright ban on hipster headdresses has spurred many festivals in Canada and even Glastonbury, UK, to also ban hipster headdresses a year later,[17] but the move has taken longer to gain traction in the United States. The 2023 Coachella Music Festival has finally banned any ‘Discriminative or Appropriative items,’[18] but it looks like the festival, pre-COVID let the music goers self-police as evidenced by Keene in 2017 who called out two concert attendees who posted themselves on their Instagram profiles wearing hipster headdresses.[19]
Pharrell Williams as a musician and producer must have been aware of the problematic use of hipster headdresses as fashion accessories at music festivals and the public image issues experienced by fellow musicians No Doubt and Gwen Stefani in 2012 regarding their use and appropriation of Indigenous headdresses and culture in their music video ‘Looking Hot’. Williams’ apology after the publication of the July 2014 edition of Elle UK had all the characteristics of a statement produced by a public relations firm and was published via his publicist: ‘I respect and honor every kind of race, background, and culture. I am genuinely sorry.’[20] The apology does not sound sincere and follows a certain schema surrounding celebrity public apologies of this sort. No Doubt’s apology, published on their website, goes into more detail than William’s two-line acknowledgement of wrongdoing, but it is also not without its problems:
As a multi-racial band our foundation is built upon both diversity and consideration for other cultures. Our intention with our new video was never to offend, hurt or trivialize Native American people, their culture or their history. Although we consulted with Native American friends and Native American studies experts at the University of California, we realize now that we have offended people.[21]
The statement does continue with an overt apology, and the band expresses that it was not their intention to trivialize Indigenous culture and that they also ‘consulted’ Indigenous friends and experts on their interpretation of Indigenous culture for their video. This particular mode of consultation was received with skepticism in Indigenous communities. However, the band was credited with quickly removing the video and apologizing, which helped mitigate any longer-term negative publicity. Stefani herself, has also been consistently in the spotlight in regard to her own relationship with other cultures, it seems that she does not understand what cultural appropriation is. The examples of her questionable relationship to cultural appropriation are numerous, and she may actually believe, that she is demonstrating cultural appreciation instead of performing cultural appropriation. In an interview with Jesa Marie Calaor of Allure Magazine published in January 2023, Stefani declared, ‘Oh my God, I’m Japanese and didn’t even know it,’ because of her love of the culture. However, Calaor, who is Asian American, points out that ‘I don’t believe Stefani was trying to be malicious or hurtful in making these statements. But words don’t have to be hostile in their intent in order to potentially cause harm…’[22]
The issue is that celebrities like Williams and Stefani, people at music festivals wearing Indigenous headdresses or fast fashion appropriating other cultures, do not realize that while their intention might be to ‘honor’ these cultures, they are, in fact, doing the opposite. Instead, they are appropriating these cultures and reducing them to the point of spectacle, without understanding, or possibly without even wanting to understand, the significance behind the objects, textiles, and clothing they are appropriating. It is the minimalization of the lived experiences and legacies of other people and cultures within the paradigm of the dominant culture that ultimately leads to this quagmire of understanding appropriation as appreciation or inspiration. With the increased use of social media in the past twenty years, the ability for these types of ‘faux pas’ to go unobserved has dramatically decreased. Today, the ability for people to comment upon, call out, and indict such behavior has gained momentum, leading to spaces where discussions and conversations can take place, and people can learn why cultural appropriation stemming from the music and fast fashion industries, which influences the lives of everyday people, is cause for concern.
There is an overarching sense of tiredness and frustration amongst Indigenous peoples, as expressed by Linda Tioleu, Adrienne Keene, Megan Red Shirt-Shaw (Oglala Lakota), and others in their blogs, interviews, academic writing, and educational roles. To have to continually educate and address the ignorance in the arguments surrounding cultural appreciation versus cultural appropriation, and to continually reinforce that Indigenous cultures are not anachronistic in nature and are vibrant and flourishing in contemporary settings, is tiring. Linda Tioleu, in her contribution to the Last Real Indians website, addresses No Doubt, Gwen Stefani and their music video. She writes:
I won’t go on and on about the fact that there are approximately 15 different Indigenous cultures very poorly (mis)represented through this video. I will, however, say that I am so tired…so exhausted…practically incredulous, at having to explain why it is wrong to exploit and misappropriate another person’s sacred culture and imagery for a music video, movie, clothing line, Halloween costume, sports team mascot, or military operation. It is 2012. Really, folks? Can I just list some books for you to read? Can I just direct you to the nearest tribal college? How about just emailing me so that we can talk? I promise not to scalp you or ride up to your house on a wild steed dressed in a black buckskin bikini top. Me, that is. Not the horse. Because…why would I dress a horse like that?[23]
The acerbic tone at the end of her blog is justified. It showcases her fatigue with continually having to address the same entrenched stereotypes when it comes to North American Indigeneity. But what she also does is invite the reader into a space of conversation, to discuss (or read) about why these instances of pop culture’s cultural appropriation are harmful.
Jean Paul Gaultier’s Legacy, Cultural Appropriation and Kent Monkman’s Intervention
While the larger debate around fast fashion and cultural appropriation has been at the forefront of social media and mainstream consciousnesses since Williams’s magazine cover and other celebrity controversies, until recently, haute couture and the fashion world have largely avoided the spotlight. The main point of demarcation seems to be the difference between fast fashion and popular culture, on the one hand, and the acceptance in haute couture fashion design that ‘borrowing’ from other cultures has been understood as honoring these non-dominant cultures. Susan Scafidi argues that staying on the right side of cultural appropriation means adhering to the 3 ‘S’s’: significance (or sacredness), source, and similarity,[24] referred to above. She observes, that haute couture has been appropriating for so long that twenty years ago these trespasses would have raised eyebrows but not the ire of the public, as it was simply seen as ‘inspired fashion.’[25] The rules have since changed. Following the rise of the internet, social media, and social activists, what was once called ‘inspired fashion’ is now, rightfully so, seen as cultural appropriation. And while haute couture has been slower to condemn or to have their fashion lines labelled as acts of cultural appropriation, it has also had to shift and become more aware of the implications of taking from other cultures without acknowledging or learning about the patterns, materials, or objects borrowed.
An individual whose haute couture fashion lines have resulted in the ‘raised eyebrows’ Scafidi references is Jean Paul Gaultier. Known primarily for his unconventional designs and reinterpretations, Gaultier was active for close to five decades before his retirement from the runway in 2020. His long and illustrious career saw him as the head designer of his own haute couture and prêt-à-porter lines and working with other haute couture fashion houses such as Hermès. He was also the fashion designer for Madonna’s Blond Ambition World Tour in 1990 and is remembered for creating her iconic cone bra.
Gaultier’s work has both shocked and inspired. His unconventional approach to fashion pushes the boundaries of gender and tests the margins of cultural appropriation. Mika Young’s work addresses Gaultier’s cultural appropriation of aspects of Māori culture. The Māori tā moko [traditional facial tattoos] in his 2007 advertising campaign highlights the problematic nature of using Māori taonga [treasures] without understanding or prioritizing the cultural significance of such designs and/or asking for permission.[26] The tā moko is a facial tattoo that has extensive cultural meaning and history and, in a similar way to the headdress, cannot be done without consent, having the genealogy, and understanding the historical information.[27] Young emphasizes the power imbalance between Māori and Gaultier’s fashion empire whereby ‘through Gaultier’s complete disregard to engage in dialogue with Māori in if and how it is appropriate to incorporate Māori images, Māori are left with very little control over how their culture and their taonga are seen and engaged with in a globalized world.’[28]
This lack of control over the use and use of sacred elements of culture is at the center of the cultural appropriation in the haute couture fashion world debate. Gaultier, along with other designers, has also used South Asian culture in similar ways. In another example, Gaultier characteristically ‘raised eyebrows’ in 1993 with his ‘Chic Rabbis’ collection, which showcased and was inspired by Hasidic Jewish culture. It was controversial at the time but ultimately seen as an homage to Jewish culture – cultural ‘inspiration’/appreciation rather than cultural appropriation. In this context, Gaultier expressed that his inspiration for the collection was a trip to New York City, stating ‘I saw a group of rabbis leaving the New York Public Library on Fifth Avenue. I found them very beautiful, very elegant, with their hats and their huge coats flapping in the wind. It was a fantastic scene.’[29] His use of Hasidic culture was employed without consultation or any understanding of the legacy and persecution of Jewish culture, and yet in some circles, he is still lauded for his boldness. The Montreal Museum of Fine Arts (Musée des Beaux-Arts de Montréal), in its 2017 installation and collaboration with Gaultier called Love is Love: Wedding Bliss for all à la Jean Paul Gaultier, showcased Gaultier’s wedding dress collections from 1991–2017.
Taking its inspiration for the name of the exhibition from former American President Barack Obama’s statement ‘Love is love’ in favor of gay marriage in 2015, the exhibition speaks to ‘human connection and the breaking down of cultural and gender boundaries at [its] heart,’[30] explains the curator Thierry-Maxime Loirot. Gaultier’s wedding dresses are meant for people of either gender to wear, with one notable exception. A particular piece and potential point of contention in the exhibition, which the museum chose to consciously pre-empt and address, was a wedding dress from his 2002 collection, featuring an Indigenous headdress.
Contrary to Gaultier’s belief that all pieces should be for both sexes, this dress was meant only for women to wear. Gaultier does not see it as cultural appropriation, instead, he ‘professes only the most honourable of motives.’[31] And Gaultier, unlike Williams or Stefani, seems to be able to avoid criticism of cultural appropriation when he states that his intention was not to offend, rather to honor:
In my conception of clothes, and in my general creation, I have always had a mix of cultures, so this is an example of that. For me it was not to make a joke, just as it was not a joke when I did a Hasidic collection. It is to show the beauty of it. That is my purpose. The headdress was traditionally symbolic of power and leadership, and it was traditionally reserved for men, so I thought it would be interesting to suggest that a woman could have more power than a man.[32]
Returning to Jess Calaor’s assessment of Stefani’s cultural appropriation, the intention does not need to be malicious or hostile to potentially cause harm. While he claims that it is not his intention ‘to make a joke’ of other cultures, like the use of the tā moko in his 2007 advertising campaign, Gaultier’s stance exemplifies what can be called a cultural appropriation blind spot in his work. He fails to acknowledge the power imbalance of the cultures he draws inspiration from and displays an ignorance of cultural protocol and respect. While he is able to articulate the historical power and significance of the headdress, he does not, as demonstrated above, realize the shifting (and contentious) cultural boundaries and protocols associated with the headdress and who can wear one. This is cultural appropriation, yet he is able to continue without being questioned, and as the reporter Ian McGillis of the Montreal Gazette argues, Gaultier’s cultural appropriation has been endorsed by Kent Monkman through his art performance video Another Feather in her Bonnet, in which his alter ego, Miss Chief Eagle Testickle, in a mock wedding ceremony with Gaultier, pledges to be his muse until death do them part. McGillis fails to recognize that Monkman’s video is, in reality, an indictment of Gaultier and his cultural appropriation. As seen above, many Indigenous activists and others take on the role of educator in scenarios such as these.
Gaultier’s willful and consistent misappropriation of other cultures is couched in a discourse of love and respect for the other cultures, but what he is doing is putting them on display, making them a spectacle without having done the requisite research to learn about the cultures he appropriates from. The cultural appropriation discourse has shifted, and it has shifted significantly since the beginning of his career, but that is no longer an excuse to not engage in a meaningful way when ‘showing the beauty’ of these cultures. As Frederick White points out, ‘[t]here is a global perception that white privilege extends not only to determining who can wear the war bonnet but also to the very things that Native Americans find offensive.’[33] White is effectively arguing that people like Gaultier, who are part of the dominant culture and control the conversation, are using their privilege to downplay, or even completely ignore the impact of the misappropriation of cultural objects. Taking into consideration this power imbalance, it is possible to read Monkman’s intervention not as an endorsement of Gaultier’s ‘cultural inspiration’ but rather as a nuanced critique of his use of the headdress as wedding attire.
Kent Monkman is a Canadian artist of mixed Cree and Anglo-Irish descent and has been active in the Canadian and Global art scene for decades. Accompanied by his alter ego in his work, Miss Chief Eagle Testickle, a shape-shifting, time-traveling, gender-diverse individual, Monkman challenges and continues to challenge the dominant discourses surrounding Indigenous peoples including colonial legacies, histories, and heteronormativity. Invited by the Musée des Beaux-Arts de Montréal in 2017 to create an artistic commentary in response to the presence of the wedding headdress in the installation, Monkman replied: ‘Miss Chief would gracefully accept Jean Paul Gaultier’s hand in marriage.’[34] The video, Another Feather in her Bonnet, produced by both the museum and Maison Jean Paul Gaultier, is filmed as a mock wedding video where Miss Chief ‘marries’ Gaultier and the two pledge ‘to challenge ideas of cultural appropriation and build an artistic union based on mutual affection and greater cultural understanding.’[35]
The wedding video format encapsulates ideas associated with a traditional heteronormative wedding ceremony and showcases these conceptions throughout the piece, with the celebration and ceremony taking place at the Musée des Beaux-Arts and in the glass-beaded tipi, part of the 2007 Théâtre de cristal installation piece created by Monkman and donated to the museum. From the opening segment, with Nathalie Bondil, the museum’s director general and chief curator, touching upon Obama’s famous ‘love is love’ quote and the legalization of gay marriage to the subsequent scene with actor/officiant Andrew Schiver acknowledging the appropriation of cultures in art and fashion and the problematic nature and imbalance of the relationship, the politicization of the wedding video genre becomes clear. The video also addresses Miss Chief’s own (re)appropriation of nineteenth-century art of the American West in a twist that plays with the idea of appropriation and who can appropriate. In repainting and reappropriating this and other genres, Miss Chief exposes the blind spots of the dominant culture in terms of Indigenous histories and legacies, in effect creating sites of indictment and sparking opportunities for conversation. Her ‘legitimacy’ in this space is confirmed as ‘Miss Chief knows the intricacies of the issue quite well; she has worn less fabulous headdresses in order to reclaim those which have been appropriated,’[36] which acknowledges the hipster headdress, but also possibly her own appropriation of the headdress in her artwork and space as a performance figure. The video highlights Miss Chief’s acceptance of Gaultier’s offer to work together to create a deeper cultural understanding of the dynamics of cultural appropriation. The video shows Miss Chief preparing for the ceremony, performing the role of the bride, and situating her as the one to be conquered or, in this context, part of a (willing?) union.
Adorned with and wearing Gaultier’s headdress, she enters the hall as if walking down the runway at a fashion show. In an inversion of traditional wedding protocol, it is Miss Chief who leads Gaultier to the officiant inside the cristal tipi. In taking the lead, Miss Chief shows that Indigenous cultures and peoples should be guiding the discussion around cultural appropriation. Their vows address their pledge to become collaborators, with Gaultier taking Miss Chief as his muse and spiritual guide, and Miss Chief committing to be clothed by Gaultier for as long as they both shall live.
They are formally presented as collaborators to the audience with the video showing interlacing clips of the party and Monkman’s paintings, which reclaim and reappropriate monolithic images of Indigeneity and heterosexuality, and images of Gaultier’s wedding collection in the exhibition. The video concludes with another time-honored wedding tradition, the wedding photo. A black-and-white piece with another inversion of traditional gender roles as Miss Chief stands and Gaultier sits in ‘a 19th century French cabinet card format,’[37] used in other earlier works by Monkman. The entire piece allows the viewer to engage with the idea of cultural appropriation in a different way than what has been found in fast fashion and hipster headdresses. McGillis’s idea of Monkman accepting Gaultier’s ‘inspiration’ over appropriation, while not entirely correct, does show the more nuanced approach Monkman has taken in addressing cultural appropriation in haute couture.
Conclusion
While the video does not condemn cultural appropriation in the same way as Indigenous activists and others on social and mainstream media, the indictment of practices associated with cultural appropriation is nonetheless present. In an industry with a long legacy of not only culturally appropriating patterns, textiles, and other items from different cultures and at the same time also escaping any large-scale denunciations of this practice, the approach, possibly, must be more understated and nuanced. The glamour and tone of the wedding video allow for this reproach to take place in a different way, by inviting Gaultier to become an active collaborator, the discussion on the suitability of his choice of thematic inspirations while designing his collections is able to take place. In reference to the mock wedding vows and artistic collaboration between the two, Monkman says: ‘Through the alliance of marriage, we learn to understand and forgive the mistakes of our partners and to build true understanding. Marriage encourages and nurtures new life, new experiences. Today, Miss Chief accepts Jean Paul Gaultier’s proposal of artistic union as an aesthetic alliance leading to mutual respect and cultural understanding.’[38]
His statement advocates for understanding and moving forward together, with both cultures working collaboratively to find a way to build a future. But as Gina Adams, a woman currently under scrutiny for her own relationship with her past and her legitimacy speaking for Indigenous peoples and practices, says, ‘Appropriating is something that you should really be careful with, with any Indigenous culture.’ She continues and claims, ‘You’re really robbing a culture, you’re really robbing an identity. You’re really just trying to own something that’s not yours.’[39]
As Linda Tioleu, Adrienne Keene, Megan Red Shirt-Shaw, and others have said, they are tired of revisiting and re-educating people on the same issue. What Kent Monkman is doing in this video with Miss Chief, however, is different. His critique is more subtle, but he is still educating. By inviting members of the dominant culture to collaborate and create a new work, which contests the availability of Indigenous peoples, their bodies, and cultural treasures as props in both fast fashion and haute couture, Monkman is creating a refreshingly original, Indigenous-centered, artwork.
[1] Keene, Adrienne quoted in Lynskey, Dorian. ‘This means war: why the fashion headdress must be stopped,’ The Guardian, 30 July 2014. https://www.theguardian.com/fashion/2014/jul/30/why-the-fashion-headdress-must-be-stopped. Accessed 25 May 2023.
[2] Deerchild, Rosanna. ‘Cultural appreciation vs. cultural appropriation.’ Unreserved. Canadian Broadcasting Corporation. Video, 1:31. 2016. https://www.cbc.ca/player/play/797416515601. Accessed 24 May 2023.
[5] King, Thomas. The Inconvenient Indian (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2012), 65.
[6] Monkman, Leonard. ‘Behind First Nations Headdresses: What you should know,’ CBC News, 26 March 2016. https://www.cbc.ca/news/indigenous/behind-first-nations-headdresses-1.3506224. Accessed 22 May 2023.
[8] Kwandibens, Nayda in Neepin, JJ. (producer). ‘Headdress.’ From YouTube. Video, 1:30–1:54. 2016. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4YFVBRQNJZs&ab_channel=CBC. Accessed 25 May 2023.
[9] Neepin, JJ, 2016, 4:03–4:07.
[11] Barnes Connell Jordan, Valerie G. ‘Chief Tammy Cook-Swanson re-elected to 7th term,’ Prince Albert Daily Herald, 12 April 2023. https://paherald.sk.ca/chief-tammy-cook-searson-elected-to-7th-term/. Accessed 25 May 2023.
[13] I understand ‘hipster’ as ‘a person who follows the latest trends and fashions in clothing and lifestyle, especially those regarded as being outside the cultural mainstream.’ Oxford Languages Dictionary. Perhaps this footnote could go in the first paragraph of your essay, as it contains the first mention of the word ‘hipster.’
[14] Keene quoted in Lynskey, 2014.
[16] Keene, Adrienne. ‘But why can’t I wear a Hipster Headdress?’ Native Appropriations, 27 April 2010. https://nativeappropriations.com/2010/04/but-why-cant-i-wear-a-hipster-headdress.html. Accessed 25 May 2023.
[17] Balca, Dario. ‘Canadian music festivals ban first nations headdress over cultural insensitivity,’ CTV News, 16 July 2015. https://www.ctvnews.ca/canada/canadian-music-festivals-ban-first-nations-headdress-over-cultural-insensitivity-1.2473299?cache=yes. Accessed 25 May 2023.
[18] ‘Health & Safety/Rules,’ Coachella. https://www.coachella.com/rules. Accessed 26 May 2023.
[19] Hardy, Alyssa. ‘Coachella Attendee apologizes for Culturally Appropriating a Native American Headdress,’ Teen Vogue, 27 April 2017. https://www.teenvogue.com/story/coachella-cultural-appropriation-native-american-headdress. Accessed 26 May 2023.
[20] Powell, Rose. ‘Pharrell Williams apologizes for wearing headdress in Elle UK cover shoot,’ The Sydney Morning Herald, 5 June 2014. https://www.smh.com.au/entertainment/music/pharrell-williams-apologises-for-wearing-headress-in-elle-uk-cover-shoot-20140605-zry04.html. Accessed 26 May 2023.
[21] Romano, Tricia. ‘The Uproar over No Doubt’s Native American Video Gaffe,’ The Daily Beast, 14 July 2017. https://www.thedailybeast.com/the-uproar-over-no-doubts-native-american-video-gaffe. Accessed 23 May 2023.
[22] Calaor, Jesa Marie. ‘Gwen Stefani: “I said: My God, I’m Japanese,”’ Allure (website), 10 January 2023. https://www.allure.com/story/gwen-stefani-japanese-harajuku-lovers-interview. Accessed 25 May 2023.
[23] Tiolei, Linda. ‘No Doubt’s Looking Hot Video was No Doubt a Big Mistake,’ Last Real Indian, 3 November 2012. https://lastrealindians.com/news/2013/11/3/nov-3-2012-no-doubts-looking-hot-video-was-no-doubt-a-big-mistake. Accessed 23 May 2023.
[24] Scafidi, Susan. ‘When Native American Appropriation is Appropriate,’ Time (website), 6 June 2014. https://time.com/2840461/pharrell-native-american-headdress/. Accessed 23 May 2023.
[26] Young, Mika. ‘Tā Moko and the Cultural Politics of Appropriation,’ Sites: A Journal of Social Anthropology and Cultural Studies, 15:2, 2018, 2, 6.
[27] Refer to Howarth, Crispin. Tā moko: Māori markings (Canberra: National Gallery of Australia, 2019). You might need to double-check the book title. When I looked it up, most libraries give the title in reverse (Māori Markings: Tā Moko)
[29] Walgrove, Amanda. ‘Chai Fashion,’ Tablet Magazine, 9 November 2011. https://www.tabletmag.com/sections/arts-letters/articles/chai-fashion. Accessed 5 June 2023.
[30] McGillis, Ian. ‘Fashion’s Enfant Terrible looks ahead: Jean Paul Gaultier is far from done at 65,’ Montreal Gazette, 15 September 2017. https://montrealgazette.com/life/fashions-enfant-terrible-looks-ahead-jean-paul-gaultier-far-from-done-at-65. Accessed 23 May 2023.
[33] White, Frederick. ‘Fashion and Intolerance: Misappropriation of the War Bonnet and Mainstream Anger,’ Journal of Popular Culture, 50:6, 2017, 1421.
[34] Montreal Museum of Fine Arts. ‘Kent Monkman’s Another Feather in her Bonnet,’ 8 February 2019. https://www.mbam.qc.ca/en/news/kent-monkmans-another-aeather-in-her-bonnet/. Accessed 30 May 2023.
[36] Monkman, Kent and Maison Jean Paul Gaultier. ‘Another Feather in her Bonnet.’ CocoFilms. From YouTube. Video, 1:04–1:11. 2018. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h43qO5gYobc&ab_channel=CocoFilms. Accessed 30 May 2023.
[37] Montreal Museum of Fine Arts, 2019.
[39] Adams, Gina quoted in Cyra, Michelle. ‘The Curious Case of Gina Adams: A “Pretendian” Investigation,’ Maclean’s Magazine, 6 September 2022. https://macleans.ca/longforms/the-curious-case-of-gina-adams-a-pretendian-investigation/. Accessed 31 May 2023.
Nicole Perry is a Senior Lecturer in German and Comparative Literature at Waipapa Taumata Rau| The University of Auckland in Aotearoa| New Zealand. Her research interests include Indigenous artistic interventions in German/European culture both in North America and the South Pacific; travel writing; and visual culture. She is also the associate editor (German) for the William F. Cody digital archives project, based out of Cody, Wyoming.