This post is long overdue but it has to be written!
The Guaranty Trust Bank is one of the five-star commercial banks in Nigeria. They are known for their CSR and recently, their contribution to building Small & Medium Enterprise in the Food industry and the fashion industry.
Just in its second year of carrying out this project, this year turned out to be so much fun and aesthetically pleasing! Unlike the previous GTBank Fashion Weekend last year, there were props, clean mobile toilets and a spacious event centre. There was the Pop Up Sales stores by different Nigerian brands in the building and outside and the prices were relatively affordable.
I wanted the Masterclasses but managed to attend one-The Vanessa Kingori Class. She’s the New British Vogue Publisher. There was a lot to learn from her.
I couldn’t have gone alone duh..I went with my partner-in-crime (@wanshygirl) and we had as much fun as possible. If I could I would drop all the pictures here! Also, I met a friend I hadn’t seen for 15 years!
See details below!
It was a FRUGA-WANDER-kinda journey, we hopped from a BRT bus, Keke Napep to trekking! What a life!
Met my childhood friend I hadn’t seen for 15 solid years. She’s now a vlogger (@nubiaqween). How time flies!
I decided to rock the pyjamas trend just because it was a big trend earlier this year and haven’t even tried it. Pjs can be in floral prints, cotton or silk but best worn or styled in silk. I paired it up with a slim-fit denim with some Parisian vibe! I also loved the Graphic tee and culottes Ebun styled herself in!
Today this post isn’t going to be like the normal “how I wore this” or “how I styled that” or “how I thrifted this”. I can’t possibly be the only interesting event going on in the fashion
I love Chimamanda Ngozi-Adichie so much. I want to express my thoughts wildly like her in writing and in fashion. She has a thing for Nigerian fashion and hence has been patronising a lot of Nigerian brands.
See her slaying in the Nigerian brand (The Ladymaker) amongst many other clothes she rocks to the red carpet. When interviewed about her fashion and style she said a lot! Where you expecting any controversial statements? Well, she always speaks “Igbo proverbs” and always leaves an epistle…Did you even know she won best dressed in school?
I’d leave you to her epistle, please read!
My mother always dressed us well. Me in little girl dresses cinched at the waist, my brothers in suits and well-ironed shirts. To go out, she said, we had to di ka mmadu, which translates literally to look like a person. We spoke both Igbo and English at home, but she always said this in Igbo, the more poetic language, as though to validate with metaphor her belief in dressing well. There were frequent market visits to buy yards of fabric, trips to the tailor to be measured. But store-bought clothes — we called them ready-made — were the highlights, preferred partly because the sewing had no imperfections, and partly because tailors were cheap and ubiquitous, and so the less common became the more desirable. If my professor father traveled to Europe for a conference, I looked forward to dresses from abroad, and I loved them more fiercely for being foreign. My much-older sisters, Ijeoma and Uche, were stylish figures, one in medical school and the other studying pharmacy, and I spent my teenage years wearing their hand-me-downs. I remember a silver-coloured skirt suit from the conservative Ijeoma, with an elegantly adult peplum. I wore it to church at 15. And from the more inventive Uche, a fitted dress in cream jersey, two sashes draped in front, from shoulder to hip, crossing at the middle. And black harem trousers, with ruching that gathered at my calves, so strange that my classmates giggled when I wore them to a friend’s birthday party. I loved those clothes, incongruous though they might have been. In them, I felt free of self-consciousness, comfortable enough to laugh along to the well-meaning puzzlement of my peers.
When I studied medicine for a year at the University of Nigeria, Nsukka I was voted Best Dressed Girl. A classmate said: “Congratulations, even though you wear some things that I don’t understand.” I laughed. Perhaps he meant the green crochet top and black bell-bottom trousers I had found in my mother’s old trunk from the 1960s. I was drawn to clothes that were slightly unusual, quietly quirky, as long as they never sank to the level of costume. If I had a style mantra it was to wear what I liked. Yet when I moved to the US to attend college, I began to wear clothes I disliked. My fiction was getting published, I was keen to be taken seriously, and I had noticed the backward treatment of women in western culture: women interested in clothes or make-up were labeled frivolous, their intelligence became suspect, and they risked being easily dismissed in intellectual circles. So I wore what I imagined would make me look worthy of seriousness. It took years, and success, before I began again to wear the clothes I truly wanted to wear. I gloried in buying ready-made clothing at American discount stores, and later when I could afford to, in department stores. I discovered online shopping. I browsed and ordered and returned.
Looking at Nigerian designs online became my favourite time-waster. Here was bliss: clothes cut to account for breasts, an ethos of clothing as pleasure rather than status, the casual presence of sleeves. I took screenshots of what I liked. My cousin Ogechukwu placed the orders. They were delivered to my Lagos home. If I happened to be in the US, they would be sent to me there. Some of the clothes I fell for as soon as I put them on. Others did not live up to their promise. There was an abundance of poor-quality zippers that needed changing. I discovered, above all else, that price is not an accurate gauge of quality and that there is far more talent than opportunity and infrastructure, a fact perhaps true of most industries in Nigeria. So far, my favourite brands are Fia Factory and Grey, the former beautifully offbeat, the latter timeless with deft touches of originality, both careful about fabric and finish. To a Diorfashion show in Paris, I wore a dress by Ladunni Lambo, a young designer who might well become a star because of her rare mix of consciousness and introspection. Her deconstructed dresses made from stiff aso-oke feel like exquisite armours. I thought I disliked sequins until I found a top by Wanger Ayu, with self-assured furry green sleeves and a silver-sequinned bodice. I wore it, with patterned trousers by Grey, to the New York Times’ “Times Talks” conversation series, and felt vainly pleased with the surprise of people who did not think the clothes were Nigerian.
But my best-loved purchase is a white dress from the improbably named label She’s Deluxe, owned by a young woman in Abuja. A modern long-sleeved cotton shift with a sly cut-out at the shoulder, which I wore to the American Academy of Arts and Letters induction in New York. I recently ordered another dress from her. “Pay a deposit so I can go to the market and buy the fabric,” she told my cousin, which I found an endearing example of Nigerian striving. I decided to call it my Project Wear Nigerian and planned to have photos put up on my Facebook page, the only social media I have. But my 20-year-old twin nieces Chisom and Amaka, full of that terrifying millennial savoir-faire, laughed. “Aunty you should have an Instagram page,” Amaka said. “We’ll handle it for you.” They were unhappy with the first photos I took. Not bright or clear enough, they said. Their eyes are conditioned to the ersatz poses and stylised photos of social media, where people dress specifically to be photographed in well-lit spaces. Book events are not usually photo-friendly, too dark, too indifferent to optics. And it doesn’t help that I loathe being photographed. A camera before me results automatically in my being knotted with awkwardness: finger-twiddling, breath-holding, mouth-twisted, body off-kilter. Now, six months later, my nieces have made peace with the photos not being Instagram-perfect. “At least they’re real,” they said, as scant consolation. We have a routine: I have pictures taken at my events and I send them to my best friend Uju, my cousin Ogechukwu and my nieces. They make the selection, as I am known to have terrible taste in my own photos, and the photo is put up, with the brands’ Instagram handles. I have practical hopes for my project, that it shows Nigerian fashion as it is, not a museum of “traditional African” clothes but a vibrant and diverse industry, and that it brings recognition to the brands. But it is also a personal and political statement. At a time of political uncertainty, when I find myself questioning the future of the two countries I call home — Nigeria and the US — this project is an act of benign nationalism, a paean to peaceful self-sufficiency, a gesture towards what is still possible; it is my uncomplicated act for complicated times.
credit:kamdora, my fashion nationalism How wouldn’t you love Chimamanda! I bet if she takes any chance at being a designer, she would nail it and be successful at it!
Do you think she is stylish after all? Well, let’s hear it in the comment section!
Mixing African prints or Ankara prints as you may know it has been my pastime. Like I blogged earlier last week about tips on mixing prints, I followed the principles and guess what I got the perfect combo!
My Ankara jacket has similar colour with my shorts so, I decided to match it with my black body suit top and voila it came out really nice.
Take a look!
P.S: If you want similar Ankara Jackets with your fabric and you are in Nigeria, it costs N5,000. or indicate your interest on my Instagram page/Whatsapp
There are lots of pyjamas trends out there but I’m more comfortable with the SLIP-ON velvet slip-on and satin slip-on. The trick to wearing a slip on is to understand the concept. For instance, your slip on strap has to be tiny, the slip on dress could be A-line or body con (but it should fit).
You must understand that it has to be light-weight because you are layering it over another outfit. The slip on is best worn with a fitted tee, a dramatic sheer top or an over-sized tee depending on the way the slip fits on your body.
For a 90s look, your tee must be white, layer the slip-on on a slim-fit jean, nice eye accessory and a wavy hair cut. It’s okay to freestyle and make this look yours!
I rocked mine ona sheer turtle neck top and a burgundy fitted slip on. Check out my look!
If you are a dedicated reader of this blog by now you would have already had an idea what my style is. My style is basically comfortable, chic and very minimal although I am not a white and black minimalist but I love to keep things in moderation but stylish at the same time.
My two-piece outfit is basically from one of the trendy print pieces in the African fashion called the Ankara Silk which is a combination of print designs in form of soft silk fabric. I’m totally in love with this attire gifted by “my secret santa” Kanyinsola Ojeshina just before Christmas and it was the perfect gift for me.
This fabric is absorbent, soft and light. The print designs on it are perfectly drawn on it with a green theme, it’s perfect for a sunny weather or perfect for a beach date.
See how I rocked mine.
P.S. I plan on doing different stuff with this two-piece set (till then!)
With me, I can use anything as prop even the cage!
Apart from the beauty of crochet braids in the past few months, the big twists, the curls and now the 4c Crochet braids.I’m open to trying out other types of crochet extension and the curly ones are catching my eyes! Now that exchange rate is high, I am definitely conscious about spending.
Now that exchange rate is high, I am definitely conscious about spending. Here’s the big trick, If you buy an expensive top, matched with an affordable denim and a stylish (let’s say and oldie but good shoes and a bag) you would definitely look good! Just try it!
Remember: EXPENSIVE TOP+ AFFORDABLE PANT + AFFORDABLE TOP/ EXPENSIVE PANT + AN OLDIE BUT GOOD BAG/SHOE = PERFECT COMBO (this has been my style hack in this harsh economy)
P.s This post is a bit long and read on to find out what I went through with my Afro hair at home.
My Afro Is A Crochet Braid!
Ever since I made my hair, I have been getting lots of questions as to if this is my real hair , well my real hair is almost as huge as my crochet 4c hair except for the edges (anyone knows any oil for hair growth?)
Details about my Crochet braid?
I bought a crochet braid 4c hair called Noble Gold which cost about #1,250 (x2) and I paid for services #1,800 ( I could actually do this myself) . All in total #5,300. It would have been cheap but I didn’t have much strength for bargaining and just because it’s Christmas period. I love the hair and would make it over and over again but the reception I got at home was quite unwelcoming. Everyone thought I was unattractive, bushy and I should “make my hair to attract young men”. I was given a refund to go make another hair.
I thought of black women going through stuff about their hair and I asked,” if this hair was my real hair would you ask me to take it off too?” I couldn’t believe there was so much to say about a hair that stands up (Black people hair) and irrespective of anyone’s opinion, I’d do this hair over and over again. I mean I’m not living in Europe, America or other countries that have an “opinion”about my Afro no matter how “bushy”it looked but what shocked me was the opinion of some family members. In the end I reduced it for it to be accepted at home. I feel like I really need my own space and I would get it!!!
If you have faced any of these hair issues, pls, feel free to comment below and share this post!
Details about what I’m wearing would be in the next post! see ya!
Street style has always fascinated me in many ways. I am one who is very artsy and all but these hand painted denims bring so much inspiration each time I see them. Here in Nigeria, a young designer (Dricky Stickman via Instagram@dricky_) debuted his hand painted denim at the Lagos Fashion Design Week in collaboration with the Fruche Official Brand.
I love every creative message on each denim. In fact, it brought back some childhood memories and so much fun inspirations running through my head.When it comes to street style, these hand painted denims have their street credibility.
Check it out!
Picture Credibility via Instagram :Dricky Stickman (@dricky_)
Hello Lovelies!! Happy magic mystical Monday! Make your day work for you and get all the positive vibes going!
The first time I looked up this website here I really thought she was really cool and effortlessly chic. I thought she had the sense of style that I could totally rock all the time. She goes simple but really classy with all she wears and never does too much of all the jewelry..(because some people think wearing too much jewelry makes you stylish or fashionable or some people think not wearing at all makes you a religious fanatic…whatevs!)
Wearing pleats (especially long pleat skirts) can be very complicated to wear and might give you the feeling of not being sexy in your dress. I can’t remember the last time I rocked a pleat skirt and felt really good in it but thanks to Ranti Blanchard post on Instagram, she made the peach- pleat- long skirt, fun, flirty and nice!. I decided to get me some peach-pleat long skirt and rocked it my way. While Ranti rocked hers with a grey long sleeve, I rocked mine with a white lace long sleeves, I also made a tye-die clutch bag which I would share how I made it later on the blog...how would you rock yours ladies?
Btw..I have to admit that I’m still shy taking pictures by the walkway or anywhere else in the world!.(help somebody)