The sprawling skyline of Tashkent in Uzbekistan encapsulates its past and its present. Turquoise-tipped minarets signal the home of the world’s oldest Qur’an, which frame the city’s tripod TV tower. Garish gold-mirrored government buildings installed by the country’s former dictator Islam Karimov, whose reign came to an end with his passing in 2016, are increasingly overshadowed by glass and steel high-rises. They’re familiar ciphers for the globalised, post-industrial economy that Uzbekistan is rapidly developing into.
Tashkent’s layered history serves as perennial inspiration to fashion designer Jenia Kim, the founding creative director of J.Kim, who was born there. But rather than simply reflect on all that has been for Uzbekistan, her sights are set on shaping what will come. “There’s a sense of something new on the horizon, which I can’t really pin down yet,” she says. “It’s still in the process of becoming.”
For Kim, a key feature of this mission is both acknowledging the city’s expansive history – known for its booming numbers of Silk Road pilgrims – and diverting attention to lesser-known facets of Uzbek’s contemporary cultural landscape, like its lively multiculturalism. A second-generation member of the koryo-saram – the half-million-strong Korean diaspora dispersed across the former Soviet Union, and originally displaced in the 1930s – her perspective on and experience of growing up in Uzbekistan and Russia, where she moved to as a teen, was always characterised by an ambivalent sense of belonging. “I couldn’t really understand how I considered myself,” she says, “and later on, when I started designing, I spent a lot of time contemplating whether I belonged to Uzbek culture, and whether or not I had the right to use these codes ,” she explains. “But I really wanted to show that Uzbekistan – and Uzbek culture – isn’t just about these references seen in museums and in books. I started to research [Uzbek and Korean] cultures, and my brand was born as a synthesis of that research.”
As opposed to the lion’s share of contemporary Uzbek designers, who tend to offer relatively faithful renditions of the opulent sartorial fare you’ll find in the city’s bazaars, Kim takes a more figurative tack, “trying to convey the feeling of Uzbekistan, rather than depicting it in exact terms.” Woozy paisleys, padded chor jackets and intricate suzani textiles (typically hand-embroidered, a staple in Uzbek tradition) figure in the brand’s palette, but they accent a range of clothes that you wouldn’t instinctively associate with the dressing customs of a predominantly Muslim, though legally secular, country. Think slinky jersey shift dresses and spaghetti strap camisoles feature tasselled petal cutouts – the brand’s signature detail – as well as drawstring trousers and crossbody pouch bags abstracted by appliquéd organza rosettes and swirls.
Today, life has led Kim back to her hometown of Tashkent, where she’s been based for the past three years. Since then, she’d built a loyal local following and successfully translated her geo-specific – at times esoteric – repertoire of references for a global audience. In fact, her primary markets lie beyond Uzbekistan’s borders: her stockists include Moscow concept store KM20, Toronto-based beacon of taste 100% Silk Shop and indie brand e-comm giant SSENSE.
Last summer, the brand consolidated its relationship with Tashkent by staging its very first show there, presented at the Abul Kasim Madrassa, a historical centre of craft scholarship. The collection was a collaboration with Ukrainian designer Anton Belinskiy that explored the fraught pursuit of creative and personal balance. Currently displaced from his homeland on account of the ongoing war, the creative process saw Belinskiy – one of Ukraine’s most celebrated design talents, and a former LVMH Prize nominee – move to Tashkent for two months to collaborate directly with Kim. A testament to their longstanding friendship, the collection harmonised Kim’s formal rigour and Belinskiy’s playful approach to colour and print. Generously cut shirts came in liquid silks with car headlight prints — Belinskiy’s eccentric synthesis of the white Chevrolet fog lights and the extra dress sensibility you see all around the city. Men’s tailored trousers were either bisected at the knee and overlaid with flounced wool skirts, or came with sensuous cut-outs, trimmed with looped suzani embroidery.
The balance sought here was a tempering of Uzbekistan’s typically stern conventions around masculine dress: “We wanted to show local men that it’s alright to experiment more and to introduce a softness into their way of dressing,” Kim explained. “To have a bit of fun.”
The show felt like an inflexion point in Tashkent’s trajectory, as if it was becoming a place that the world will look to with an interest in its present and future, rather than just its past. Of course, that’s not a task that J.Kim can achieve on her own. Here, three members of Tashkent’s burgeoning community joining her in defining the city’s contemporary identity share their top tips, their thoughts on the state of Uzbek fashion, and their hopes for what tomorrow will bring.
Hassan Kurbanbaev, photographer and co-founder of Invisible Island studio
How would you describe Tashkent to someone who has never been before?
Tashkent is where the culture and identity of different generations intertwine. The city exists at the crossroads of Islam, Soviet architectural heritage, and the new. Additionally, there’s a vibrant youth population here. For me, Tashkent is both young and ancient simultaneously.
What’s your relationship to Jenia and J.Kim?
Jenia and I did our first shoot together in 2017, and we’ve been collaborating ever since.
What are the most exciting recent developments in Tashkent’s cultural scene?
For me, a standout development has been the emergence of an independent artistic scene in the city. Talented individuals are fostering a DIY culture, creating great new music, engaging in photography, and delving into post-colonial studies of our recent history. 139 Documentary Center, in particular, has become a vital institution – it’s the heart of the independent artistic community of Tashkent.
What gives you hope about the future of Tashkent’s cultural scene?
The new generation of artists who can fearlessly express themselves. Those who don’t follow what is expected but what their hearts and personal convictions lead them to create.
What’s your top advice for anyone thinking of visiting the city?
Take your time – the rhythm of life here is special. Explore the underground, wander through the streets and districts, maybe some museums and independently discover what Tashkent is. And do not forget to visit my studio Invisible Island to say hi!
Ester Sheynfeld, multidisciplinary artist
How would you describe Tashkent to someone who has never been before?
Tashkent is like a jar full of butterflies: a bright but unobtrusive memory you’ll keep for a long time.
What about the city do you find particularly inspiring?
I draw strength from the Chorsu Bazaar. I can feel myself being pulled there, and being free finding inspiration from just walking through the market’s narrow streets. You’ll find almost-extinct old town motifs, a Soviet flavour in the architecture, a real sense of multiculturalism in people and rare finds on the stalls.
How would you describe the Tashkent fashion scene?
Recently, our local designers have started to take more interest in their roots and develop new interpretations of old fabrics in their collections. Some have just started to explore the underground fashion world, which I don’t remember having seen here before. Despite the growing interest of our designers in global trends and the development of local brands who are capable of entering the international scene, I think it will still be some time before we can compete on a global level and be heard abroad.
How would you describe that role that Jenia and J.Kim have played in developing Tashkent’s fashion scene?
Jenia shows our young (and not just young!) fashion designers that it’s possible to not just follow but also to create global trends by bringing eclecticism into their collections. J.Kim proves that, being based in a territory with a rich multi-ethnic heritage and with its own modern look.
What gives you hope about the future of Tashkent’s cultural scene?
The open borders of consciousness.
What’s your top advice for anyone thinking of visiting the city?
You have to starve yourself in advance, because there are so many delicious dishes to try, and bring the biggest empty suitcase you have, because you will want to take home everything you see.
Rufayda, fashion student
What’s your relationship to Jenia and J.Kim?
Jenia is like a mentor to me. Last year, I had a chance to be an intern at J.Kim, it was a great experience.
How would you describe Tashkent to someone who has never been before?
It’s like a kaleidoscope that creates endless patterns. It pulsates with life, especially in the bustling bazaars and busy public areas.
What about the city do you find particularly inspiring?
I love the diversity of our architecture; here you can see both post-Soviet buildings covered with mosaics as well as oriental mausoleums, mosques, and madrassas. You can literally drive past modern buildings and then an old mahalla in the city’s centre, full of the spirit of the old city, where nothing has changed for centuries. Another constant source of inspiration for me are our artisans, who dedicate their lives to their craft. They put their heart and soul into every item they make. Their passion is contagious and it inspires everyone who comes into contact with them.
How would you describe the Tashkent fashion scene?
People in Tashkent are more experimental than in other regions of Uzbekistan, but the fashion scene here is still just emerging. Nevertheless, the industry has been developing significantly in recent years. I’m happy to see more and more creative individuals who are not afraid to challenge old norms and find their own paths.
What have been the most exciting developments in recent times in Tashkent’s cultural scene?
The National Pavilion of Uzbekistan in the 60th Venice Biennale. The project was undertaken by a group of artists from Tashkent, who showcased a series of hand-embroidered pieces and an exhibition curated by the Centre for Contemporary Arts in Tashkent.
What’s your top advice for anyone thinking of visiting the city?
Come in the spring or autumn season when it is at its most picturesque. If you’re flying here in the summertime, though, bring extra sunscreen. The sun won’t spare you.
Credits
Photography: Abdulaziz Yuldoshev