By Nesrine Benyaiche, Algeria

Fashion has always been a tool of expression and recognition. Clothes are markers of social class and a reflection of faith, grief, celebration, or revolt. They shape how we see ourselves and how others see us. We often use them to express who we are and to recognize others. Throughout history, our clothes told truths about who we are, where we come from, what we believe in, and the communities we belong to. From jewelry to fabric, and from patterns to headwraps, clothing has always carried our identity.

Across Africa, traditional attire has never been just about beauty. It’s about memory, meaning, and belonging. Each colour, bead, or stitch holds something an echo of how rich Africa is, rich with meaning. Our attire is full of colour and symbols from Amazigh weavers, Yoruba dyers, Tuareg silversmiths, Zulu bead makers, or Wolof embroiderers. But during colonization, these traditions were deliberately erased or belittled. The colonizer tried to wash them away through imposing new ideas of what was “elegant” or “classy,” through shame, through a system that defined “class” by imitation. In schools and offices, traditional clothes were forbidden, mocked as primitive or provincial, and slowly replaced by the tailored suit.

Abdoulaye Konaté, Motifs Wolof et Touareg, 2023 — dyed, stitched and layered cotton with embroidery, weaving together Wolof and Tuareg textile traditions in a bold contemporary tapestry. Photo: © 2024 Lévy Gorvy Dayan (artist’s catalogue / work listing)

Missionaries banned adornments and jewelry, calling them pagan. Beyond these direct acts of repression came something more subtle and lasting: the conditioning of taste. What was once a celebration of identity was labeled “tacky” or “ghetto.” The “old money” aesthetic we now see praised globally is rooted in that same colonial hierarchy, the idea that refinement must look European, “clean”, and silent. It was built upon our absence. Because African fashion has always been loud and for a reason. It carries history in its brightness and resistance. For decades, Africans were taught that elegance had to mean silence, that simplicity was superior to expression. Even after independence, these ideals stayed generations after the next, we grew up believing that to be “modern” meant to look Western. Many of us still carry that conditioning without realizing it, in the colours we avoid, in the hair we straighten, in the ways we tone ourselves down to fit into rooms never meant for us.

In recent years, young designers across the continent have been reclaiming what was taken. Brands like Orange Culture (Nigeria) “blending Nigerian and other African references with universal streetwear”, Rich Mnisi (South Africa) founded by Rich Mnisi the brand was born from his yearning to build a deeper connection with his Tsonga culture and heritage and tell a compelling story through his art, Artsi Ifrah’s Maison ArtC (Morocco) and Tongoro (Senegal), are redefining what African fashion looks like on global runways rooted, bold, and unapologetic. 

Photo-installation objects and evocative portraits by MAISON ARTC — a visual expression of identity, memory and culture through photography.Photo: Courtesy MAISON ARTC / maisonartc.com (Photography section)

They mix tradition with modernity without erasing their origins. Their work is both contemporary and ancestral, a refusal to be reduced, a declaration that African creativity does not need foreign validation to be called fashion. Because when we do not reclaim our symbols, they will be stolen from us. We’ve seen it happen over and over again, most recently when Chanel showcased a piece that mirrored the Ouled Naïl dress with no mention of where it comes from. But that was only the usual. Global brands mine our heritage and sell it back to us under new names. That is theft.

This is why reclaiming fashion is not an aesthetic choice; it is an act of resistance. To bring colour back into our wardrobes is to bring memory back into our lives. And that is what the new generation is trying to do: to wear gold, to wrap ourselves in patterns once called “too much,” to celebrate who we are and where we come from. It’s a joy to see such a level of awareness among the youth, but they need real structures to support them in doing that.

Supporting these young designers is not only an investment in fashion, but in memory, in storytelling, and in local economies led by creativity rather than extraction. Every fabric made, every craft revived, is a way of keeping history alive while imagining a future that belongs to us.

A tailor crafts a garment at Tongoro’s Dakar studio — the Senegal-based brand blending heritage textiles and global fashion vision in each silhouette.Photo: Courtesy Tongoro / tongoro.com (About – brand imagery)

And that’s why initiatives like Connect for Culture Africa (CFCA) matter. Because reclaiming our fashion means reclaiming our right to exist as we are; visible, rooted, and unapologetically vibrant. The CFCA’s vision of investing in culture and creative economies is exactly what can keep our memory alive, giving young designers and artisans the means to grow without having to fight so hard for their right to exist, without having to prove that their identity is not a trend to be stolen by those who tried to erase it, Supporting them means protecting a part of our heritage that speaks louder than words the kind made of colour, texture, and memory. When we choose to fund culture, we’re not just supporting art; we’re making space for stories to continue. It’s a reminder that colour is not chaos, and ornament is not shame. They are the proof that we survived erasure and dared to dress ourselves in history, identity, and creativity.

Sources:
SIT Study Abroad. Independent Study Project (ISP) Collection. Digital Collections, SIT Digital Collections. https://digitalcollections.sit.edu/isp_collection/2664/ SIT Digital Collections+1

Konaté, Abdoulaye. Motifs Wolof et Touareg. Lévy Gorvy Dayan, 2023. https://www.levygorvydayan.com/artworks/motifs-wolof-et-touareg Lévy Gorvy Dayan

Tongoro. “About.” Tongoro. https://www.tongoro.com/about-tongoro

Orange Culture. “About.” Orange Culture. https://www.orangeculture.com.ng/pages/about ORANGECULTURE

Rich Mnisi. “Explore.” Shop Rich Mnisi. https://shop.richmnisi.com/pages/explore RICH MNISI

MAISON ARTC. “About.” Maisonartc. https://www.maisonartc.com/about MAISONARTC

“Fashion-Week de Paris : les tenues algériennes inspirent les grandes maisons de haute couture.” Algérie360, (date). https://www.algerie360.com/fashion-week-de-paris-les-tenues-algeriennes-inspirent-les-grandes-maisons-de-haute-couture/

EDITOR’S NOTE

Nesrine Benyaiche is a writer, content creator, and feminist activist from Algeria. Her work explores culture, identity, and the politics of self-expression across Africa and the diaspora. In this feature, she traces how fashion — once weaponized by colonial powers — is now being reclaimed by a new generation of African designers as a language of resistance and renewal. Her reflections remind us that to dress in colour is to remember, to reclaim, and to resist. Through fabric and form, Africa continues to tell its story — one stitch at a time.

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