Case Study No. 1: Cherokee Fusion

A few generations back on my dad's side I have Cherokee (Native American) Indian blood. I know almost nothing about my Cherokee ancestry other than I had a great-great or great-great-great grandmother (not quite sure which) that was full-blooded Cherokee squaw. Even though this heritage is rather distant and seemingly irrelevant to me, there is something about it that fascinates me. Maybe it's a desire to cling to what little hereitage I have left in my melting pot of ethnicities. Maybe it's a desire to feel some sort of connection to the continent where I was born and raised. Afterall, of all of my varied ethnicities, my Cherokee blood is my only non-imigrant ethnicity, my only blood that is truly American.

I've visited Europe on two separate occassions once to France, Belgium, Germany, and Luxembourg and once to the U.K. I thoroughly enjoyed my time spent in Europe; it truly was eye-opening. However, it was not home. I did not feel as though I belonged there as many European-Americans do when they go back and visit the "Motherland" and rediscover their lost heritage. No for me I felt like a tourist, a thoroughly-intrigued tourist but still a tourist. When I came back home to the States I did feel as though I wanted to go back but only to visit not to live. I did not have any identity crises or tugging feelings in my soul, nope, none at all. What has caught me by surprise however is that, throughout my travels, after I have returned home, I have seemingly felt even more lost than I did overseas.

I think the truth is that I feel the effects of being the son of immigrant heritage, people without a home, almost nomadic. Even though many Americans have been on this continent for hundreds of years, they never really became connected to it. Americans, afterall, are a mobile people, we are always on the go and on the search for the most effecient and productive lifestyle, even if that means uprooting your family and moving to a new place. This very American lifestyle has left its people feeling very disconnected and at times lonely.



For me, my Cherokee blood represents the one part of me that in a sense "truly belongs here". It is the bridge between my heritage and my homeland. It gives me a physical and psychological connection to the land that I call home. That is a feeling that many Americans are deprived of and seeing that makes me even more grateful for and proud of my Cherokee heritage.


And so about two years ago I was fishing through my dad's old closet and all of the vintage jackets in our basement in search of some cool stuff to work with as I prepared to move off to New York. I was hoping to start a brand new life out there and so I thought it only fitting to start a brand new look for myself as I moved out there. While I was rumpaging through the pasley and the plaid and the denim, I found an authentic Native, leather-fringe jacket that my uncle had bought for my family. When my family moved back to where my dad grew up in Ohio (also home of our Cherokee heritage), my uncle paid for the installment of a full-sized, fully-authentic teepee in our back woods property and with it an entire set of Native apparel. At the time, these things meant very little to me, especially since they had come in one big set, but when I rediscovered this jacket two years ago, somehow it meant a lot to me. I felt as if I had rediscovered a little part of myself and a perfect "piece of Ohio" that I could bring with me to New York.


When I moved to New York, I immediately began to think of ways to use this jacket as I worked on creating my new style. I started out using it almost as an overcoat, usually with a collared button-up and tie underneath to balance out its very rugged, country look. This started working pretty well. I would get multiple compliments a day about it walking through the halls at school and even more just on the streets of Manhattan. It caught me by surprise that I was getting so many comments about such a rugged, country piece in Manhattan of all places.

After thinking about it, however, I relized that this was not surprising at all. New Yorkers, maybe more than any other people, are desparate for authentic connections to their heritage and to the earth, being that New York is so void of nature, earth, and authenticity. This jacket spoke to them, it told them a little bit of my story, it brought a little bit of rural southwestern Ohio to the streets of Midtown Manhattan in a very visual way and New Yorkers loved it!


Now, two years later, that jacket has become one of my signature pieces. After studying this jacket and further developing my style around it, I have been able to pinpoint my success with it. I have come to the conclusion that what made this jacket work with my style was the fact that I fused it with my normal wardrobe. If I would have walked down the streets wearing full-on Cherokee garb, I probably would only have collected bewildered looks and laughs with the occassional salutes of respectful gestures. But instead, I fused the jacket with my normal wardrobe: with jeans, a button-up and a tie (and whatever my style evolves into). This touch turned a Commemorative, going-to-a-Pow-Wow outfit into a wearable, everyday oufit; an eye-catching, conversation-starter outfit but nonetheless a wearable, everyday outfit.

The secret was in the fusion. I have found that lots of people have great ideas and creative eyes, they just don't know how to put their ideas and their creativity into an everyday context that is applicable to your average Joe and Jane. The key to creating movements whether it be in fashion, ideology, or commerce, is that you have to bring them down to an understandable level to the people.