I hadn’t planned on visiting the Slovak National Gallery (SNG) during my stay in Bratislava, but the ubiquitous advertising for their special exhibition “Nech Šije! (Sew Long!): Fashion in Slovakia 1945-1989” had me too intrigued not to drop in. History museums in Central and Eastern Europe often discuss communist art/propaganda; rarely do they delve into the fashion of the era and how it too could be used as a tool of the government to promote conformity by shifting the focus of the industry to ready-to-wear, elevate the worker with functional, practical clothing and simultaneously bring down the high fashions of the elite.
The SNG’s collection is housed in the old Esterházy Palace, on the southern edges of Old Town. The collections appear to rotate fairly regularly; you can see what’s currently on display here. Despite what I had read online, admission was free, which made the perk even better by its unexpectedness.
The top floor featured the works of several modern Slovak artists. I’m far from an art expert, but there was a freshness and vitality in these rooms that caught me off guard. Even almost 30 years after the fall of communism there are still so many stereotypes about the gloom and drab nature of the region and people from the Western media that are just so ridiculous. It’s actually the exact opposite that is true: I believe that because so much was repressed post-World War 2 through the early 1990s there appears to have been a creative explosion wherein art scenes, food scenes and clothing scenes are all thriving, especially in the major cities.
All of this made the juxtaposition of the clear and present excitement found on the top floor with the time warp I stepped into with Nech Šije one floor down even more severe.
After World War 2, the central government began buying up small, privately owned businesses, including clothing shops, before outright stealing them from owners in the early 1950s. With the government in charge of clothing production the emphasis switched from the aesthetic to the practical. Right in line with the rest of the political philosophy, there was less focus on individual fashion and more interest in unifying looks.
One of the most interesting sections of the exhibit was the communist propaganda fashion shows. Workers would walk the runway in factory garb just as if they were taking part in Paris fashion week to the wild applause of the party members in the audience.
My favorite section though was that on the fashion magazines that emerged during the era, namely Móda (for women) and Dievča (meaning “girl” for teens 14-18). The magazines contained paper cutout patterns that became a popular way for women to sew their own clothing at home and afforded the editors some sneaky ways to disseminate more individualistic fashion choices. As explained by Zuzana Šidliková in the museum’s companion book “Stratená (m)óda” (Lost (m)ode): They did not receive any editorial orders from the Union of Women; the magazine for the young generation received a certain license to be “different.” While some magazine had to obtain a stamp (permit) before being sent to print, Dievča was published free of such direct control “from above.” (Page 43)
I was so taken with the Nech Šije exhibit that I wanted to keep learning as much as I could about the subject. Luckily the museum has a fantastic book shop with a friendly, English-speaking staff and I was able to grab these two publications that complemented what I had seen. Šidliková’s excellent examination of the period is also available on Amazon.
Although Nech Šije has come and gone from the SNG, the fact remains that the best museums will not only expose you to something new, but will perhaps also spark a continued interest in a newfound passion. Visiting an art museum can be more than staring at some old paintings. My trip to the SNG helped me have a greater appreciation for Slovak history as well as giving me some insight into the current psyche of the people, which of course makes exploring Bratislava all the more meaningful.
