I’m a bit amused at the hypocritical state of being that as Africans seem to embody. It’s as if we are waiting to be discovered, waiting for international fashion designers to wave a ‘white flag’ signaling a ‘go ahead’. We have the patterns, the material, the skills, the labour, but we wait for ‘them’ to re-discover what is already ours, give shape and style, put it on a famous model, in a glossy fashion magazine, and the we jump around and call it Home Grown… Tisk tisk.
Was chatting to a friend of mine about how we are going through this ‘African Fashion’ phase, like black women never wore head wraps, all of a sudden, its a popular thing, like traditional gear was never celebrated, really. We are animal skins and bright coloured fabrics, we are mud huts and straw roofs, we are natural hair and black skin, but most importantly we are drums, ululations, shouts and dancing. And I’m sure we are proud of who we are, let’s not let the world take that from us.
Maybe I’m going through an ‘embrace your self’ phase.
I’m just saying, maybe I’m rambling again. #FoodforThought
