The Sulu Of Fiji
p. 27 · Read in the full issue
By “Amel”
FIRST cousin to the Balinese sarong, and distantly related to the Scot tish kilt, the Fijian sulu has a charm and utility all its own.
Wrapped around waist or bosom, and falling to below the knees or just above the ankles, it gives the wearer grace and dignity. This fathom length of material, whether silk, satin or calico, is an almost indispensable part of a Fijian’s ward robe.
Not the least of its attributes is its adaptability. It may be used as a sheet, a tablecloth, a laundry basket, a sail for somebody’s punt, or something to carry the baby in. It can be twisted to make either a turban, or a pair of trousers.
The sulu was worn long before Euro peans came to Fiji; but, in those days, its manufacture involved the tedious process of beating out a parchment-like material from the bark of a tree. On this pliable background of white or ivory cream, the Fijians placed their own clear-cut patterns in black or brown vegetable dye.
To-day, however, when nearly every Fijian village sprouts a Chinese or Indian trading store, a few shillings will buy sulus for the whole family. There is a multitude of colours from which to choose. Designs are weird and wonder ful, and there is great scope for indi vidual tastes.
But it is rather disconcerting to see a wicked-looking bomber winging its way across the back view of a Fijian damsel, or “Remember Me’’ written in Fijian across the sulu of a cynical old bachelor!
Occasionally, whims of fashion affect the sulu. Several years ago. buttons replaced the time-honoured “tucked-in“ method of fastening it. But buttons fell off and were lost, and, with one thing and another, “tucking-in” soon came back to favour again.
Nowadays, shorts, long trousers and European dress styles are, to a large extent, replacing the sulu for every-day wear; but the Fijians’ affection for it still remains, and, on ceremonial occa sions, only the very best sulu is con sidered good enough.