These days in Switzerland, a debate has been raging over ‘appropriate’ attire for schoolgirls, and I can’t help smiling as I remember my first time in Barbados: no more agonizing over what to wear. All I would need were a short beach dress and comfy sandals, no matter where I went. Free at last… or so I thought. Just as for bus travel, hairstyles or carnivals, I needed a beginners’ handbook on the unequivocal dress code. I had foolishly assumed there was no such thing.
Barbados, 2016. I am in the process of exploring the island on foot, North to South, and I’ve got my routine down pat: first thing in the morning, I quickly slip on a sleeveless dress over my bathing suit, pack my flip-flops and start on a day-long trek. On beaches, I walk around barefoot in my bathing suit, a sarong and no shoes. The sand never gets too hot here. On roads, I put the beach dress and sandals on again. In bars and restaurants, no need to jazz it up. No one seems to mind my skimpy beach dress.
The one and only piece of advice I had been given was this, and it had stuck in my mind as fundamental: “Keep your beachwear for the beach”. Read: ladies’ sarongs or men’s bathing shorts aren’t welcome on city streets. No big deal, is it? I will have no problem abiding by that rule. Probably because I haven’t grasped its full meaning yet. Oh, I almost forgot: camouflage print is strictly forbidden. Which I guess I won’t really miss.
On streets, my eyes pop out at the way people seem completely free to dress as they please. No disparaging comments or disapproving looks. Ultrashort dresses or plunging necklines don’t seem to faze anyone, and curvy body shapes are no reason to forego leggings or microskirts.
It’s even more obvious at the Reggae Festival – which might be seen as a runway for meticulously designed, fetching outfits, sexy dresses, ultra-tight pants, you name it… At first I couldn’t understand the reaction I got one day from a sales assistant when I tried on a cute little skirt for the festival: “Oh come on”, she said, “this is something you’d wear to work!”. Huh???
Crop Over1 fetes are another example. Exquisitely sophisticated lingerie appears even more eye-catching when worn under transparent chiffon. Body coverage is minimal and Wukkup2 is danced with abandon. Such scenes would be unthinkable in Europe (“Downright indecent!”) or in the Middle East (“This can’t be legal!”). Bajans3, on the other hand, don’t see such outfits as coded messages. Let things be clear: no touching, no harassing, or there’ll be hell to pay!
And wait a minute -- how come the world-famous tams4 routinely worn by Rastas5 over their long hair are nowhere to be seen at these fetes? Because they’re banned from certain celebrations, someone explains. In other words, near-nudity is okay for dancing, but covering one’s hair isn’t? I’ll need to remember that. But in my books, Barbados still qualifies as pretty hip!
So imagine my shock when I try to walk into some official building the next day and I’m turned away because I’m not “dressed appropriately”. What could possibly be inappropriate about my little dress? “Well, you see, this is a public administration”, I’m reminded. “Your arms and legs should be covered.” This is unreal! Molière’s Tartuffe immediately comes to mind: “Cover up that bosom, which I can't endure to look on.” Rules also apply to men: rasta braids and afro hairstyles are to be disciplined or hidden under a tam. Yet the very same tam is not to be worn at certain fetes, in courtrooms or on judicial premises, and nor are shorts. Mind-boggling if you ask me.
So things aren’t as straightforward as I thought and I decide to pay more attention to the way the local folks dress. Riding home on a ZR6 bus, tightly squeezed between schoolchildren dressed in impeccably ironed uniforms, I’m glad I waited for the sun to dry my body completely before I got dressed again. And it’s easy to tell which passengers on jam-packed public buses are on their way to work or university: they’re the ones wearing clean, classic attire. Barbados doesn’t seem so “hip” now.
It all becomes clear when my Bajan friend Liz spells it out for me: “Tourists think of the island as one big beach. But this is where we live and work, and we obviously dress differently according to the occasion. It’s got nothing to do with decency and everything to do with circumstance.”
Now I get it. This isn’t hypocrisy, it’s a set of social rules and conventions. To paraphrase Molière: “Cover up your bosom or hair because of where you are.” We Swiss citizens might want to give it a thought so we can move on.
1): 2-month celebrations marking the end of the sugar cane season
2) Wukkup : Sensual Caribbean type of dance
3) Bajans : A name Barbadian people call themselves
4) Tam: A head covering worn over dreadlocks
5) Rasta: A follower of Rastafarianism, a social, cultural and spiritual movement initiated in Jamaica in the 1930s
6) ZR :
Translated by Edna Setton
November 24, 2020