The Aestheticization of Identity

Carlos Merida was born in 1891 in Guatemala City, Guatemala and was of Spanish and Kʼicheʼ Mayan heritage, later heavily influencing his work. From 1910 to 1914 he lived in Paris, where he sought inspiration from artists such as Pablo Picasso, Piet Mondrian, and Amadeo Modigliani. Merida then moved to Mexico in 1919, becoming part of the Mexican muralism movement as he preferred a geometric and colorful style rather than a figurative one. He is best known for integrating Latin American culture with 20th century European art in his Modernist abstract art, drawing from his experiences in Guatemala, France, and later Mexico. He fused Muralism, Surrealism, Mayan culture and European Modernism throughout his various media forms that often display vivid clusters of people.

Carlos Merida’s utilization of European art styles in portraying Mexican Indigeneity allowed for Meso-american heritage to be globalized and further resonate with international audiences. His art consisted of Mexican folklore, costumes, and traditions that were displayed throughout exhibitions in Europe and the United States, as well as large scale mosaics in Mexico City. Mexican Costume specifically highlights Merida's orientation towards American audiences, as the piece's coauthor Renee D’Harnoncourt curated a Mexican art exhibition at the Museum of Modern Art, titled Mexican Arts, in 1939, further extending the marketing of Mexican culture through Merida's work.

Carlos Merida’s Mexican Costume (1941) is a portfolio of twenty five color silkscreen prints that visually document the diversity of Indigenous and mestizo dress across Mexico. Produced in Chicago by The Pocahontas Press, with prints executed in the workshops of C.W. Belden and Associates, this portfolio showcases Merida’s fusion of European surrealism and Mexican muralism. Accompanied by text—including a note by the curator d’Harnoncourt—the portfolio highlights how regional textiles and attire serve as cultural markers, reflecting both historical resilience and social structures. Mexican Costume reveals how dress embodies identity, adaptation, and tradition within Mexico.  

Merida’s choice to decontextualize these garments within his prints strips them of the people, locations, and traditions they are associated with—presenting the clothing as independent visual elements rather than living expressions of identity. By rendering the figures in an abstract form, Merida removed the clothing of its origins, signaling indigenism through stereotypical features such as tanned skin and dark hair. Isolating the costumes from their social contexts reduces them from expressions of cultural identity to representations of ‘Mexicanness’ designed for foreign appreciation. The transformation of clothing into an abstract, minimalist form further erases the social and economic realities behind their creation and use.

Although Merida and d’Harnoncourt provided descriptions of the clothing, their presentation aligns with a broader strategy of marketing Mexican folk art to international audiences—specifically the United States. D'Harnoncourt’s involvement, following his curation of the Twenty Centuries of Mexican Art exhibition (1939) at the Museum of Modern Art, reflects the effort to frame Mexican culture as an aesthetic commodity rather than a lived tradition. Merida’s illustrations cater to an audience shaped by capitalist consumption, who exploit the exotic in their desire for individuality in their mechanized society. These factors reveal Mexican Costume as a product of the commodification of Mexican folk culture to fit international tastes—detached from their communities of origin (Canclini, 1993, p. 40).)

The themes in this portfolio, in our analysis, are the following: the diversity of Indigenous and mestizo dress across Mexico and how this clothing can reflect regional identity, tradition, and adaptation to different environments and histories. More than just functional, these garments are reminders of the resilient and rich culture of Indigenous Mexico. However, artists like Carlos Mérida, while aiming to celebrate these traditions, have inadvertently contributed to their aestheticization. They are presented as stylized, static objects removed from their histories and backgrounds. This removal aligns with Mexico’s broader national project of Indigenismo, where Indigenous dress was appropriated as a visual marker of “Mexicanidad”. We can see this pattern today in modern visual culture, from murals and craft fairs to high-end fashion; Indigenous aesthetics are commodified without acknowledgement of their origins. 

Traditional dress can also be a signifier of status, standing out amongst everyday wear. While some clothing (like the Tarahumara) is designed for functionality, the charro suit signifies prestige and national pride. Today, Indigenous textiles influence global fashion, but their appropriation by brands like Carolina Herrera and Gucci raises questions about where the line between appreciation and exploitation lies. This pattern is reminiscent of the performative use of Indigenous dress by figures like Frida Kahlo, who famously adopted the tehuana clothing as a political and artistic statement. She even appeared on the cover of Vogue in tehuana dress while her and Diego Rivera were in the U.S. Aesthetic choices such as this have since inspired modern designers, and have shaped the way Indigenous fashion is repurposed for global markets. Since then, appropriation such as hers has been coined as 'Ethnic Drag': the performative use of cultural dress by outsiders, often reducing it to an aesthetic spectacle rather than an expression of lived identity. As these regional Mexican costumes gain popularity in today’s world, it raises questions about representation, commodification, and the ethics of Ethnic Drag. 

When cultural designs are taken without considering the spiritual and historical significance of their symbols and colors, their identity, history, and relationship to their community is erased. Traditional patterns and techniques are frequently reduced to aesthetic trends, with little to no credit given to the cultures that created them. 

For example, Carolina Herrera’s resort 2020 collection “Latin Holiday” prompted Alejandra Frausto, the cultural minister of Mexico, to accuse the brand of appropriating embroidery techniques and patterns specific to Indigenous Mexican communities. Herrera publicly praised her design team and “brilliant” pattern makers and seamstresses behind the collection, failing to acknowledge the Indigenous communities whose craftsmanship and traditions were the foundation of the designs.

By stripping cultural elements of their original context, they become aestheticized or diluted for foreign appreciation while still being used to evoke an exoticised or commodified identity. This practice not only overlooks the cultural significance of these designs, but also contributes to a broader pattern of appropriation where historically marginalized communities neither receive recognition nor benefit from their own artistic heritage.

When done with cultural awareness, the use of traditional designs and symbols can serve as a celebration rather than appropriation. Rather than stripping traditions of their significance for mass appeal, respectful engagement fosters a deeper understanding and appreciation of the cultures represented.

For example, events like Brownsville, Texas’s Charro Days embrace and honor Mexican heritage and Indigenous Mexican communities through dance, music, and traditional clothing. Established in 1938, Charro Days was created to celebrate the deep cultural ties between Brownsville and its sister city, Matamoros, Mexico. 

These traditions are upheld with cultural pride and awareness of the culture that is being represented, they become a means of preserving and sharing heritage rather than exploiting it for commercial gain. By fostering a space where cultural exchange is inclusive, rather than extractive—like Merida’s prints—events like these strengthen the connection between generations and reaffirm the importance of cultural identity.

Thank you!