The Togolese Trade - An Introduction

May and June of 2023 were unforgettable. I traveled to rural West Africa for a cultural engagement program. I expected local connections, small-scale entrepreneurship, and teaching, but what I never imagined was the opportunity to learn about the unique fashion culture of West Africa. I connected with multiple artisans and scholars to uncover a fascinating way of thinking about clothing. The port of Lomé, with its strategic location on the coast, is one of the largest West African ports. Among the many products imported to this port are African print textiles. The trade of this product fosters a vibrant market culture. Six days a week, you can roam the streets of Lomé and find an unending selection of colorful pegnes sold by local cloth traders. The first time I walked these streets was the evening I arrived in Togo. Jet-lagged and eager to soak up every bit of the West African experience, I found the market equally captivating and overwhelming. I had never encountered the African print textile, much less in the quantity and variety before me. The bustling streets, where I dodged oversized loads, shoulder-to-shoulder traffic, and countless vehicles, could only be described as controlled chaos. Overstimulation is an easy way to characterize this first experience with the Togolese cloth markets. After two nights in Lomé, our group began our journey to the Northern villages of Farendé and Koudé, where we would spend seven weeks split up, living with local Kabiyé families. There, we taught classes to youth, conducted interviews, and led the annual microfinance loan project. Every week, we visited the markets of Farendé and Kara to shop for produce, gifts for our homestay families, and my favorite: pegnes. These weekly visits to the smaller, less chaotic northern markets allowed me to grow familiar with the African prints. These textiles, like me, made their way North from Lomé. The cloth, a material I had never used or worn, is a staple to Western African society. Through exposure to these prints in the markets and around the house, I developed my tastes and desire to use the patterns in my everyday life. Ready-to-wear items are few and far between in markets. The Togolese clothing culture is an exchange between cloth trader, consumer, and tailor. Individuals buy their prints, bring the cloth to the local tailors, and the tailor takes measurements and individual style preferences to create the perfect fit. In a ¼ mile stretch along Farendé’s main street, you can easily find seven tailors, most with a workshop and team of apprentices. The tailors are buzzing away on their machines, as it seems like there is always something to work on. Naturally, I started drawing up ideas and silhouettes I could wear to formal functions during my trip and when I returned home. The intimate process of buying the cloth and taking it to the tailor allowed me to appreciate the craft. Rather than being produced by an unknown face in a factory, I was able to follow a process Western ‘Pret a Porter’ does not permit. While Togo may use mass-produced textiles, they also employ strategies that slow consumption. Tailors are trained specialists in society. They have a workshop and apprentices that allow them to take pride in their profession. No large entity strips a tailor of their creativity and autonomy, allowing them to maintain a connection with their products. Being able to take part in what felt like an essential part of West African culture led me to appreciate, reflect, and ask questions. I learned more about the tailors themselves and connected with them beyond the client-patron relationship. During my final two weeks in Koudé, I sat down with many tailors to learn more about their journeys. This piece is an introduction to my experiences with the African textile culture. To sum up my stay in one piece would not do it justice. Over the next month, I plan to publish a series of smaller articles about the rich fashion and textile scene in Togo.