“La Belle Dame”, one of the costumes in the 2017 Carnival band “Cazabon — The Art of Living”. Photo by Gary Jordan Photography, used with permission. In Trinidad and Tobago, it's the time of year that masquerade designers unveil their creations for Carnival — the annual two-day street festival that attracts revellers from all over the world. The roll-out has gone smoothly thus far, with leaders and designers of carnival bands (as the often thousands-strong troupes of masqueraders who parade in the streets are called) posting images of their 2017 offerings online, and Carnival enthusiasts debating their choices of bands and costumes. Except in the case of one band: after its October 21 launch, Brian Mac Farlane's 2017 presentation, “Cazabon — The Art of Living”, provoked a social media firestorm over what some felt was the glamourisation and belittling of both the country and the region's collective history. The online discussion was initially about the first impression of the costumes — all-white, seemingly a blend of masquerade and couture — with some Facebook users admiring the designs, and others suggesting that Mac Farlane was imitating veteran mas’ (short for masquerade) designer Peter Minshall, and edgy newcomers K2K Alliance and Partners, who have seamlessly integrated high fashion into their Carnival portrayals. The band's concept refers to Michel-Jean Cazabon, a mixed-race, 19th-century Trinidadian painter who is widely held up as the country's first internationally recognised artist. His work depicts life in Trinidad during the mid-1800s — mostly the family life and social pursuits of the planter class, as well as stunning watercolour landscapes that are important historical markers for what the island looked like during that era. But upon closer examination, people began to realise why they were having such a strong reaction to Mac Farlane's costumes. In a public post, Facebook user Carla Steffanie explained: I figured out why I'm not crazy about the Mac Farlane Carnival costumes. He's glamorizing a part of our colonial history where racism and socioeconomic disparity were rampant. And carnival now, with its overpriced parties and parades, continues that tradition. The costumes are pretty, but they don't say much. They don't tell a story, or at least one that is superficial. They're there for show. I suppose that's what carnival is all about any way. But basically, with this collection, what I'm seeing is one of the country's supposedly premier carnival artists is culturally appropriating our own culture. We've come full circle. Or I could be reading too much into it. Jump up and wave, my people. Two images in particular sparked outrage — the poses of the models were exacerbated by the fact that the costumes were named “La Belle Dame and Garçon de la Maison” (French for “The Beautiful Lady and the House Boy”). University lecturer and political commentator Rhoda Bharath quoted her Facebook friend Dave Cave, who called Mac Farlane's portrayal “the trivialisation of trauma”. Bharath was incensed. She questioned the Cazabon reference, noting that “the era that Cazabon came into his own is post 1834″, which was the year of emancipation — albeit with conditions — for all slaves in British colonies, including Trinidad and Tobago: So my questions are thusly: 1. Why the slave narrative in the designs? 2. Why the valorisation of the slave narrative and the nostalgia for an era that abuse, oppressed and disenfranchised African people? 3. Does MakakFarlane [a spoof on the designer's name, Mac Farlane] and his creative collaborators even acknowledge that African descended people contributed heavily to the Mas and the valorisation of enslavement and the colonial era is a backward move? 4. People sat down in a room and thought the concept and the costumes in this the year of our Lord 2016 is a good idea? 5. Did Colfire and Tobago Plantations sponsor this band? 6. Is stirring up a historical controversy the only way Brian can sell costumes now? 7. Is Cazabon: A Way of Living a furniture line at Courts or American Stores? #MakakFarlane #MissMeWithTheBullshit The three official hashtags attached to the band — #KnowYourPlace, #KnowYourPeople, #KnowYourPath — didn't help matters. Although the narrative surrounding some of the hashtags — at least from the perspective of the designers — had to do with “celebration [of] our potential”, “reverence in our spaces” and re-establishing our connections, most social media users did not take well to being told that they should know their place. As Facebook user Jacqueline Morris explained, it was all about context. She added: One image, one title, one hashtag. Together, that means something. And it means something bad to a lot of people.