By Roopika Risam
Amardeep Singh notes in his New York Times piece “Being Sikh in America,” that since 9/11, “The Sikh turban reflects a form of difference than can provoke some Americans to react quite viscerally.” These visceral reactions, as we know too well, have included retaliatory attacks immediately after 9/11, ongoing harassment of Sikh communities, and last month’s gurdwara shooting in Wisconsin. Such events threaten Sikh identity, particularly for young Sikh boys in the United States who may be grappling between the religious and cultural expectation to wear one’s turban with pride and a mainstream culture in which turbans are at best unfamiliar, and at worse a target.
Recent appearances of Sikh sardars in mainstream media have been questionably helpful for Sikhs. Beyond sporadic appearances of sardars as cab drivers or corner shop owners, The Office introduced a Sikh character named Sadiq to audiences in 2005. Appearing in two episodes, IT guy Sadiq, played by Omi Vaidya who is not himself a Sikh, trades on the worst possible Sikh joke: being mistaken for a terrorist. Despite announcing that he does not want to be labeled by his religious identity and articulating his identification with American culture via hip-hop, Sadiq is plagued by concerns that he is a terrorist – and this fear colors the interactions of other characters with him. Sadly, this representation, one of the first fleshed out Sikh characters on television, rehearses the unpleasant theme of misrecognition of Sikhs and Muslims
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NBC’s dubious television series Outsourced broke cultural ground in 2010 by featuring the first regular Sikh character in an American sitcom. Guru Singh, a Houston-raised actor and a Sikh, played the silent and seemingly pissed off sardar named Ajeet. SALDEF founder Manjit Singh admitted to high hopes for the character to SikhChic, hoping the character would educate Americans about Sikhs. Yet, Ajeet’s lack of lines did little beyond visually represent a Sikh man. As all male characters wear suits or shorts and pants, he stands out for his turban and beard, both of which serve as markers of difference. Such differences are highlighted as well by off-color comments about “crazy hats” by the show’s white characters. While providing a representation of a Sikh man is admirable, the visual is troubled by Ajeet’s perpetual menacing look.
Is misidentification of a Sikh for a terrorist meant to be funny? Is a silent, angry sardar simply a sight gag? The limits of humor come into focus, for it does little but further Islamophobia and certainly fails to educate audiences about Sikhism or Sikhs in the United States.
Fashion, however, has a more successful track record for Sikh representation, even if Sikhs seem few and far between in the U.S. fashion landscape. In recent years, turbans have captured the attention of the likes of Karl Lagerfeld, whose Metiers d’Art show for Chanel last December featured Indian-inspired outfits for Fall 2012, from kurtas to churidars, accessories and jewelry. And yes, Lagerfeld included bejeweled turbans – including the traditional Sikh pagri. More compelling, however, are the few Sikhs who have found their way into highly visible fashion campaigns, proving that for Sikhs who wear turbans, fashion is not out of the question.
In 2008, Kenneth Cole broke ground by featuring sardar Sonny Caberwal in the label’s 25th anniversary “We All Walk in Different Shoes” campaign. Handsome Caberwal, clad in a black suit and tie with red windbreaker and black turban, graced Fifth Avenue in style. Interested in using a Sikh model but unable to find one, the casting agency for Kenneth Cole’s campaign began contacting Sikh organizations looking for photos. At the suggestion of his brother-in-law, Caberwal submitted his headshot. Known henceforth as “America’s First Sikh Model” and the “World’s First Sikh Supermodel,” Caberwal, an entrepreneur, later appeared in a GQ spread, posing in fashionable menswear, including a black dinner jacket and scarf paired with a pink turban and a white tuxedo and yellow flower with a matching turban. His interest in appearing in the campaign, as Caberwal noted in a 2008 interview, was to “feel they’re represented and people like them can be proud of how they feel and how they are represented.”
This fall, yet another sardar is making waves in the fashion world. Visit designer Tory Burch’s website and look closely at the image on the home page. The dapper sardar reading the newspaper in the left-hand corner is none other than Waris Ahluwalia the Amritsar-born jewelry designer and actor who has made a name for himself in the U.S. and in Europe. Two photos in the Tory Burch Fall 2012 lookbook feature Ahluwalia clearly cast in the role of “distinguished gentleman.” From punchy red pocket squares to jaunty purple socks, Ahluwalia commands attention – and Tory Burch does not even sell menswear. Ahluwalia is further featured in the designer’s Fall 2012 video, where he sits reading the newspaper in a hotel lobby until he is distracted by the Tory Burch-clad models who walk by. Ahluwalia, with his obvious fashion connections and previous association with Tory Burch, is not an odd choice for a fashion campaign, though he appears almost randomly and without context.
My inner cynic wonders whether Sikh men wearing turbans in advertising campaigns are selected and feted for their appearance or are being singled out for their difference. In that case, is Ahluwalia more than a prop in these images? On the other hand, it’s hard to criticize an image that brings Sikhs into the visible mainstream, integrates Sikhs into the visual landscape of the U.S., and renders a Sikh man in a turban as ordinary as the next guy reading the newspaper in a hotel lobby.
Consequently, the vision of Ahluwalia popping up in a Tory Burch advertisement like a “Where’s Waldo: Sardar Edition” is significant because it is just that – a vision. Ahluwalia is not a character represented for an audience. Instead, he is a vision of a man who wears his turban with pride and elegance. He reminds me of sardars I know whose turbans are integral parts of their own identity, often coordinated in fine style, from ties matching patkas to shirts complementing pagris. It seems, it’s the photo of a Sikh man just going about his business (or, in this case, posing for a fashion shoot) that makes the best case for turban fashion – not that a turban is a matter of fashion but that wearing one is not unfashionable.
