Provenance, a chronology of the past, an explanation for all that was and how it came to be. While delving into the earliest records of our lineage, I was not surprised to discover that we had always been identified as a matriarchal clan, the women of our family deeply embedded as glittering figures on an intricate tapestry. Our men were elegant consorts, staunch figures in the military, diplomats, respected literati, ministers and scientists. But the women had long held a fascination in Burmese society, animated hostesses with their motley crews of guests, bringing people together from all the edges of the world. Foreign correspondents, batty uncles visiting from Oxford, jewellers from India, artists and writers all found common ground under their roof. What mattered was the richness of the conversation; anecdotes shared over trays of Turkish delight and sugared mukhwas (a colourful Indian snack) passed around after a meticulously served meal, the enjoyment of the evening only punctuated by the sounds of the incoming monsoon. Before she left us a year ago, my grandmother herself was well known in her circles for throwing the most intimate of gatherings, thought precious for the company kept and the graciousness of their hostess.

As a child, I myself had heard the stories, our roots dipped in the belief that the women of our clan were borne of the nãga, sea dragons. These mystic beings were considered sacred for their reverence to the depths and for their natural proclivity to protect their own. And, of course, there were the jewels. Cavernous lairs filled with tributary gold and primitive trinkets for safe passage through rough waters. A drop of magical realism resonates in our veins, and while it is but a story, its origins are hundreds of years old, and they have extended very much into today’s reality as my mother sits in her atelier surrounded by her pieces that seem to reach backwards through time. 

My maternal great grandmother, Daw Khin Nyunt, took great care of her personal toilette. She never left the privacy of her room without being perfectly coiffed, nary a strand out of place, Thazin (the royal flower), freshly picked from her garden and brought in by the household staff each morning, adorned her bun. Always taking great care to select her jewellery; she would sometimes pick up a parure of amethysts and small diamonds to match a spray of purple orchids from the garden. Sometimes she would place an emphasis on her buttons, a set of five, which was a standard for Burmese women at the time. Her sets, however, were comprised of gems. Of the many she kept in lacquered trays, her daughters were most enamoured with the set attached to reverse-set five-carat diamonds per loop. All eingyis (traditional blouse) had small fabric loops through which these could be slipped through, and my great grandmother favoured her imperial jade set most of all, perhaps for their translucence and delicacy. Personal adornment was a vital part of a Burmese woman’s daily life. Her mother had undergone the same rituals, as had her mother’s mother. It was only natural, then, that her daughters practised these standards as a non-negotiable aspect in their lives.
When the British arrived, traditional society was drastically changed by colonisation. My grandmother, Noreen, was sent to a Christian boarding school in Nyaungdon along with her sisters, Marie, Mabel, Stella, Grace, Kyi Kyi, and Gladys as it was considered the only appropriate avenue for education at the time. Out of the seven girls, Noreen would be the first to venture off and follow her insatiable thirst for knowledge to America, as opposed to England like her sister Mabel. An independent woman and a natural scholar with dreams of becoming the next Margaret Mead, Noreen endeavoured to take up both sociology and anthropology, and felt that New York was the perfect place to study the acclimatisation of Asian cultures within western society.

Learn more about Wynn Wynn Ong’s journey as a designer in the June 2016 Traveller Issue of Philippine Tatler. Available in all leading newsstands and bookstores, downloadable via Zinio, Magzter, andPressReader.