The Shadow of the White Kebaya

by Nynke Deinema

This art project explores colonial history, identity, and female strength. It is a personal and visual exploration of colonial relations in the Dutch East Indies, with the white kebaya — a blouse worn by Indo-European and European women — as its focal point. The publication is the reflection of the project.

The inspiration arose during the farewell to my grandmother, who moved to the Dutch East Indies as a two-year-old and, after her death in the Netherlands, was laid out wearing a sarong and white kebaya. This caused indignation within the family: too “native,” some said. For her, however, it was a sign of connection. My grandmother’s kebaya was cremated with her. Clothing reflects more than fashion or climate; it reveals identity, origin, and social position.

In my work, the woman is central, as the bearer of both personal and colonial history. I photograph the white kebaya in different positions and then alter the images by scratching, perforating, and rubbing them with pastel. From these, mobiles and altered photographic works emerge. I call this method iconoclasm — a breaking of images. The works are soft and tactile yet simultaneously damaged: a reflection on the layered legacy of the colonial past.

My father was born and raised in the Dutch East Indies. My mother married him “by proxy” (with the glove). In the mid-1950s she travelled by ship to join my father in what had by then become independent Indonesia. My mother’s glove also plays a role in The Shadow of the White Kebaya. For me, it refers to the power of the Dutch. Hands often play a role in my artistic practice; my knowledge of sign language has contributed to a fascination with hands.

During the colonial period, white kebayas were worn particularly by women in European, Moluccan, and Peranakan Chinese circles in the Dutch East Indies. The style of white kebaya considered typically (Indo-)European is cut straight and finished with lace or embroidery. For me, the lace refers to the influence of Europe on the kebaya; it came from Belgium and the Netherlands.
White clothing was seen as clean, disciplined, and “civilized.” Since the wives of Europeans were initially required to convert to Christianity, the white kebaya also acquired the connotation of a “Christian” costume. This is why Moluccan Christians still wear white kebayas today, while Indonesian Muslim women traditionally choose coloured ones. For Javanese and Sundanese people, white is the colour of the afterlife.

Research by Sabina Bolk and Dido Michielsen showed that wearing the white kebaya in Indonesia is still very current. It is used for chic or special occasions such as weddings, and experienced a comeback after being recognised in 2024 as intangible heritage by UNESCO.

At the time, the white kebaya could enhance the status of so-called njai: indigenous women who lived with European men without being married and had children with them during the colonial period. It helped the njai distinguish herself from other indigenous women and demonstrated her connection to the European way of life. It was also a visual expression of colonial order: the njai as housekeeper, caregiver, and partner, dressed in “neat white,” fitting the image colonial men wished to project.
Until 1900, extramarital relationships with Indonesian women were an accepted phenomenon, but after that the njai was no longer tolerated. Not only the Dutch but also Indonesian nationalists rejected concubinage. European women were therefore assigned a crucial role in maintaining the boundary between coloniser and colonised, and thereby in safeguarding the colonial project in the Indies. From the 1920s onward, kebayas and sarongs became less popular among Eurasians and Europeans. They were considered too “local.” Soon this clothing was no longer worn; it lost its place in the colonial public sphere.

Over time, the white kebaya became an emblem of resistance and national identity. Women wore white kebayas during protests and gatherings to show their support for independence. In this way, the white kebaya became a powerful symbol of the struggle for freedom and self-determination.