AFRICAN FASHION

I have always been very aware of what it means to be beautiful as defined by any given society. As a little girl growing up in Kinshasa, I was in awe of my mother's beauty and the amount of time and dedication that went into putting herself together every morning. In fact, my first memories of fashion and beauty rituals revolve around my mother.

It was the eighties, we were living in our deluxe apartment in the sky. My mother had just opened her medical practice and pharmacy and everything about her screamed professional go-getter. As a young wife, mother and budding entrepreneur, Mom practically invented multi-tasking. While she was getting ready, I was always allowed to come and hang out with her in her bedroom. I could play with anything and ask as many questions as I wanted. It was always our special time together and in those moments, in the mornings, my own attitude towards fashion and beauty were being formed.

Mom always began her beauty ritual the night before by putting curlers in her long brown hair. This being the eighties, the lady needed as much volume as possible! After her bath in the mornings, the process would begin in earnest. I would always join her somewhere in the application of her make up. This would involve a lot of brushes, pretty tubes of lipstick and the most delightful compacts of every eye shadow colour imaginable. Mom would tone, moisturise and apply her foundation. She would then move onto her cheeks, eyes and lips all the while dispensing tips like Maryse, you don't need that much blush on your cheeks-less is more! She would then move onto her hair which she would wear in one of three styles, a classic french twist, a curly up-do or a chignon(a.k.a a bun). This always seemed to take the longest part of the morning as she would have to take out her curlers first and tease her hair into the desired style. My favourite was the french twist (or “banane” in french, as it resembles the fruit) which involved what seemed to me to be the most deft use of one's hands and a ton of hairpins! During this stage, I would usually put on one of her pieces on top of my cornrows and try to copy her. Here I learned that when it comes to hair, bigger is better and more is more-as anyone who has seen my hair will tell you.


Once she had ensured that her hair was perfection, she would move on to the clothes. Congolese cultural clothing is traditionally made from material called “Wax Hollandais”, name after the Dutch who manufacture it. These fabrics are mostly brightly coloured and/or patterned. It is used to make tops of the most exquisite design worn with matching long,straight skirts or as custom dictates, two wraps worn on top of each other. Mom always favoured the latter. She would open her cupboard doors and looking at her neatly stacked piles of wraps or “pagne” choose the colour of the day. On mornings when she had more time,I was then allowed to pick a bag and a pair of high heels to match her outfit. This being the eighties, Mom ended up in a lot of head-to-toe green, orange, red, etc. It was while admiring my mother's beautiful leather stilettos from parts of the world I could only fantasize about that I first developed what would be a lifetime fascination with shoes. Mom had shoes in every color of the rainbow, each one more beautiful than the last. My favourite was a pair of electric blue high-heeled pointy pumps. I would pick them up everyday and run my fingers over the soft leather and admire the intricate bow detail running all the way from the back of the shoe right to the toe and dream of the day when my feet would be big enough to fit into them. Sadly that day never came and now I covet her incredible bag collection instead.

My sense of style is very different to my mother's. I have a flair for drama and enjoy experimenting with my look while Mom is all about classical styling. I love bright red lipstick and she prefers muted earthy tones when it comes to make-up but we agree that when it comes to hair fuller is better. Even today, when I have a beauty question I call up my Mom. She is treasure trove of information and every piece of advice she shares is useful. Mom and I can talk for hours about new skin care products, make up, hair remedies etc.

On those mornings, before any other influences could filter in, I learned how to put on a turban and to love it! I learned about mascara, and Allure by Chanel. I learned about pretty gold earrings and dainty necklaces and how they take an outfit to the next level. I learned about the versatility of a weave.I learned about walking in heels and how to love the sound that they make against a tiled floor. I learned about mirrors, Babyliss curling irons and silk scarves to protect your hair at bedtime. And most importantly, I learned that a woman should always present the best version of herself to the world. There is always enough time to make yourself beautiful,no matter what!