Damascus Revisited

From
Undercover in Damascus

TIME. Thursday, Jan. 18, 2007 By LYDIA WILSON DAMASCUS )

In certain quarters, Syrian lingerie is famous. You may not think so, but the fact is that you may be wearing it and never know. There are Syrian exporters who employ people to cut the "Made in Syria" labels out of frilly knickers and lacy bras, and replace them with ones that say "Made in Italy" prior to exporting them. A friend of mine in Damascus does precisely this job. But what is the reason for Syria's infiltration of so many of the world's underwear cupboards? Why Syria, of all places?
A wander around the capital Damascus gives no clues at first. Syrian culture is relatively conservative and this is reflected in what people wear on the streets. But if you know what you're looking for, you'll gradually start to spot it: a window of lace-up basques here, a display of fishnets there, and over there—an eyeful of bras and boas that would put the Playboy Mansion to shame. A lot of local men have a taste for such things because they're "like children," posits the manager of the upper-end Charme lingerie store. "They get bored easily so a girl must have many outfits." In fact, she needs up to 30 lingerie sets for her trousseau, says Malu Halasa, co-editor of the forthcoming book The Secret Life of Syrian Lingerie. That demand helps to explain the prolific production of underwear in Syria, and its manufacturing expertise. On the supply side, Damascus' prime position on the Silk Road has flooded the city with silks and satins since time immemorial.
"An Arabic wedding night must be Technicolor," says the manager of the Al-Araba boutique—and that's pretty much what her shop reflects. It displays a bright-red body stocking in its window; inside, it's almost like a party-supplies store, with its luridly colored feathers, fake flowers and faux fur. Fifty percent of the customers are men.
The fun really starts in the labyrinthine markets (or souks) of old Damascus, however. Souk Hamadiya inspired The Secret Life of Syrian Lingerie all by itself. Many of the small kiosks lining the souk sell clothes; often, underwear sets are hung just below rows of more traditional outfits like sequined belly-dance costumes. The underwear usually goes unnoticed by visitors, which is a tragedy for Syria makes the raciest lingerie anywhere else in the world seem staid by comparison. "In Syria lingerie is manufactured by very conservative religious families for a religiously conservative clientele," says Halasa. Where frank sexuality and skimpy outerwear are commonplace, such as in the secular West, there is no need to "manufacture lingerie as racy and inventive as this," she theorizes.
Sewn onto the garments are flashing lights, tiny chips that play pop music and stuffed toys on springs. Feathers abound, and several kinds of material are used—latex, leather, cotton, satin and more. But Halasa says her favorite is the relatively subdued "mobile-phone thong," which comes with a holder for a cell phone.
Prices in the souks are around $10-$16 for a bra-and-knickers set complete with son et lumière effects, but expect to haggle. Toward the end of Souk Hamadiya, away from the Umayyad Mosque, is Charme; head upstairs for wedding sets of nightdresses and lingerie from around $15, and for individual nighties costing up to $70. A short taxi ride away in Hamra Street, Asseel has a greater range of conventional underwear; bras cost $8-$25, knickers start at only $3.
"Even China can't compete with our prices," says Maher, a supplier of materials to the lingerie factories. One Kuwaiti woman, browsing in Hamra Street, says, "I come here because it's so cheap and you can find whatever you want." Well, perhaps not always. "I can't find what I want," protests a Syrian woman. "I just want plain cotton underwear, and I have to buy it from women who bring it back from Europe

From the Road to Damascus , April 2005

Which brings us back to that lingerie. The western, feminist woman always has a fascinating struggle with the dress and behaviour of Muslim women in the Middle East: the closely-held veils covering heads, bodies and sometimes also the faces of women of all ages - hiding them from the lustful gazes of men other than their husbands - will often billow in a sudden breeze, revealing current-season designer jeans and acutely-pointed, stiletto-heeled boots. And what to make of the young woman spotted mid-morning near the central Hejaz train station? Veiled more completely than most, only her heavily made-up eyes, sparkling behind layers of kohl and mascara, could be seen - unless you looked down: and there, poking out from beneath her Abaya were feet strapped into diamante and metal-studded open-toe sandals, nails painted the exact colour of sin. The only lust it failed to excite was that of the street's hapless traffic officer, who was looking the other way.
This gorgeous creature, hidden but clearly defined, held the key to the countless, unspeakably kinky lingerie shops we passed daily to, from and within the old city: spangled bras and cut-away corsets; tasselled bodysuits and studded knickers. Pleasure was no stranger here: it was just covered from view until one was in the privacy of one's own home - or someone else's.