Pulling Sexy Strings

It may seem like the inappropriate commercialization of a long-standing local
cultural heritage, but skimpy G-strings and elegantly minimalist brassieres
have injected new life into the ailing art of lace-making in Koniaków.

by Anna J. Kutor

Photo courtesy of Koniakow.com

Usually, the efforts of safeguarding and updating
traditional craft skills and processes are celebrated and supported by
communities, except when elderly lace-making ladies turn from making
traditional tablecloths to provocative panties. Or so is the controversial
situation in Koniaków, a traditional lace-making town in southern Poland, where
lace-weaving women are now threading crocheted lingerie instead of heirloom
clothes and ecclesiastical items – and making a pretty penny in the process. Confused?
Let me explain.

Lace making in Koniaków – a 500-year-old town situated on the slopes of the Beskid
Mountains in the highland region of Silesia – traces its roots back to 1864,
when a young woman started teaching the intricate technique to other women in
the village. As the practice of this delicate skill passed on from one
generation of women to the next, the local craftswomen quickly defined their
own distinct decorative style and lace-making became a highly esteemed
trademark of Koniaków. Initially, women only thread crochet patterns to create
ceremonial headdresses for weddings, but the increasing popularity of the craft
led the production of a wide assortment of lacy products, including
tablecloths, pillows, altar ornaments, clerical vestments and other religious
and household decorations. By the middle of the 20th century,
Koniaków’s acclaimed ‘folk art’ had found its way to numerous national and
international displays in addition to the homes of well-known kings, royal
families and high-ranking religious figures. Tablecloths prepared specifically
for the Polish-born Pope John Paul II and Queen Elizabeth II immortalized
Koniaków lace all over the world.

Photo courtesy of Koniakow.com

Being considered a constructive ‘people’s art’,
Koniaków’s lace-making business continued to grow and prosper during the period
of communist rule in Poland and the approved craft institutions where
subsidized by the socialist state. But sales suddenly dropped as Poland was
released from its Soviet yoke and demand for hand-made lace goods had dwindled
to a point where commerce was limited to the occasional folk souvenir. Then
along came the new, revolutionary ‘sex sells’ approach to the age-old craft -
coupled with great word-to-mouth promotion and later Internet marketing -that
inevitably turned Koniaków’s world upside down.

Thee Advent of Lace-Like Lingerie

“In the beginning it was all just a joke, we made thongs because they where faster and easier to construct than other more
traditional lace-made merchandise but they were also quite comfortable and
useful,” says Malgorzata Stanaszek, a local villager with a shrewd business
head on her shoulders. Launching into creative business mode, Stanaszek, a
talented lace-maker now in her early thirties, and her younger sister Teresa
Matuszna took this ‘funny’ breaking- old-modes idea and translated it into real
business. In 2003 the sisters established Koni-Art, a lace lingerie producing
company employing younger, more open-minded women in the village, but it was
the company’s website – launched later in 2004 – that really opened up a
floodgate of possibilities and orders for the lacy products. “We really didn’t
expect it to be so fruitful, but the Internet changed everything. Suddenly
there where orders for colorful crocheted stringi’s [Polish word for thong]
from all corners of the globe”.

Beyond the online representation, interest in the scanty underwear was also fueled by foreign media coverage in
big-name publications such as the New York Times, The Chicago Tribune and The
Wall Street Journal as well as Australian, Finnish and Japanese television
spots. As a result, enquiries and orders started pouring in from as far away as
Thailand, Canada and the United Arab Emirates and the ‘stringi’ became a
recognized symbol of modernity in Poland. For Stanaszek and the whole of
Koniaków, the joke-turned-business venture provided new-found recognition and
an incessant source of income.

Photo courtesy of Koniakow.com

“Every single item we sell is made-to-order and very
individual, but we take inspiration for the designs from various Polish fashion
magazines” says Stanaszek.  In just a few years, the company’s product portfolio has gone far beyond the simple white thong to include t-shirts, bar and panty sets, swimsuits and skirts in a range
of shapes, colors and sizes. They even offer tried-and-true tablecloth, table
runners and wedding dresses, although the majority of sales comes from the
lingerie. “Most of our clients are men who want to surprise their girlfriends
or wives with something special and even something seductive, so they appreciate
the attractive, custom-made quality of our products”.

Nowadays, the vast majority of Koniaków’s 5000-strong residents are involved in the
lace-making industry as villagers can make a decent secondary income even on
part-time bases. Once the daytime agricultural tasks are completed, women of
all ages gather in impromptu lace-making circles to hook and loop together
rows, squares and patterns; teach the younger girls the tricks of the trade as
well as to enjoy some snacks and social chit-chat. The number of completed lacy artifact depends on the type of design, product and the level of experience,
but it usually takes about four-five months to finish a large tablecloth and
about a day or two to turn out a thong. And with each ornamented thong – made strictly
from the best Egyptian and Turkish cotton threads - fetching around 70 PLN in
the online store – this spare-time activity is really yielding benefits.

There re, however, a mushrooming number of ‘unusual’ orders that make traditional
lace-lovers giggle. One British woman recently ordered a black t-shirt with a
pattern of her husband’s favorite football team on it while an American lady
requested an XXL-size bright red g-string for her boyfriend. Stanaszek says:
“Usually orders from the US are larger in size, which cost a bit more because
of the material, but there have been a few odd orders like oversized socks and
funny t-shirt prints”.

Photo courtesy of Koniakow.com

Profane Panties

As can be expected, not everyone in the conservative,
deeply religious village of Koniaków is pleased with the racy twist of the time-honored craft. While the image of 80-year-old grannies crocheting piquant
panties certainly makes for attention-grabbing journalism, for the local
community this new business opportunity has raised all kinds of difficult
questions about cultural heritage, morality, entrepreneurship and religious
boundaries. Is hand-stitched lace lingerie a proper symbol of local cultural
heritage? Do the provocative panties encourage sex, consequently making the
creation of said items shameful and sacrilegious? Where should the boundary be
between commercial innovation and keeping a traditional craft processes alive
and relevant?

The controversy began to brew when a number of thong-makers where named and shamed
in church as being an embarrassment to the village. Soon after, officials at
The Association of Folk Artists (Stowarzyszenie
Tworcow Ludowych) sued the innovative craftspeople for humiliating
Koniaków’s well-respected lace-making tradition and refused to grant Koni-Art’s
products the official status of folk art. Older townspeople and representatives
– including Mieczysław
Kamienierz, the director of the Koniaków’s one-room lace museum -, were
also widely outspoken about the issue, saying it’s “indecent and humiliating”
for people to wear underwear that where made from the same lace as sacred altar
cloths.

“At first, we weren’t openly talking about what we do, but it became a hot topic and we decided to
stand up for ourselves and defend our right to make lingerie,” says Stanaszek.
Over time, the commercial success of Koni-Art’s racy underwear led way to an
upsurge in demand for old-fashioned lace product such as doilies, curtains,
gloves and decorative knick-knacks strung by the older generation of
lace-makers.“People understand and accept that our goals is to keep the
tradition going, and we support the church and the town from the profits.” 

In an era where ancient craft skills are eroding at breakneck pace, many coming
dangerously close to extinction, the emergence of Koniaków’s
radical lace lingerie should be seen as a way of ensuring some of Poland’s
unique cultural artistry is preserved for future generations. And if that means
sporting a hand-made black, floral-patterned thong, so be it.

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