But there is much to dig into, going back into the history of British conquest on the continent. I’m specifically thinking of that famous image of Zulu King Cetshwayo ka Mpande during his visit to London in 1882, where he adopted Western dress in the form of a double-breasted suit, but still kept his traditional headdress - isicoco.
To me, it’s a marker of how black dandyism has evolved from necessity — as it has in other parts of the world. Cetshwayo had been defeated and arrested by the British before he went to London for that famous visit. This is, to me, a metaphor for how black style, and dandyism specifically, as we know it today, emerges from our subjugation, and subsequent cultural conformity.
This is even evident when you look at hip-hop and how Dapper Dan evolved from pariah to icon within fashion. To recap his briefly, Dapper Dan had a famous Harlem boutique in the 1980s where he made custom pieces that repurposed luxury brand logos. Said brands sought to shut down his operation, which had become popular with black sports, and music stars, due to his unauthorised use of their logos.
There are unmissable parallels between this and the sapeurs, swenkas and, to a far lesser extent, King Cetshwayo’s attempts at conforming in a white man’s world, while still trying to maintain a semblance of authenticity. That is black dandyism, and Africa has a rich history of it that risks going unnoticed come May 2025, at the Met Gala.
The ‘Black Dandy’ has a history in Africa, too
Here's hoping the continent’s brightest stars make this clear at next year’s Black Style-themed Met Gala
Image: Tariq Zaidi
Last week, the Metropolitan Museum of Art announced the Costume Institute’s spring 2025 exhibition, “Superfine: Tailoring Black Style”. Known to most as the Met Gala, the theme piqued my interest and had me thinking about what inspiration might be taken from the continent. On closer inspection, however, I came to realise Africa’s contribution to global black style might not feature that prominently after all. At least not in the show itself, leaving such opportunities for the red carpet only.
According to the New York Times’s Vanessa Friedman, “the show, involving 12 different themes, including ‘ownership’, ‘caricature’ and ‘cosmopolitanism’, will concentrate on the Black dandy in Britain and the US from the 18th century through today (though there are nods to the history of African dandies).”
Here’s hoping some of our now prominent African stars on the world stage — the likes of Lupita Nyong’o, Nigerian superstars Burna Boy, Tems, Wizkid, SA’s Tyla and others — who may crack an invite will take the opportunity to give the continent more than just a nod at one of the most-watched red carpet events of the year.
This is why the buzz about African fashion might not be another blip
Before looking into how they can do so, it’s perhaps worth investigating the Costume Institute’s choice to use Barnard College professor Monica L. Miller’s 2009 book, Slaves to Fashion: Black Dandyism and the Styling of Black Diasporic Identity, as a template.
An overview of the book over on Barnes & Noble reads: “Slaves to Fashion is a pioneering cultural history of the Black dandy, from his emergence in Enlightenment England to his contemporary incarnations in the cosmopolitan art worlds of London and New York.
“It is populated by sartorial impresarios such as Julius Soubise, a freed slave who sometimes wore diamond-buckled, red-heeled shoes as he circulated through the social scene of 18th-century London, and Yinka Shonibare, a prominent Afro-British artist who not only styles himself as a fop but also creates ironic commentaries on black dandyism in his work.”
At a time when social media has thrown “diaspora wars” into mainstream discourse, with “foundational Black” Americans often seeking to erase the continent’s connection to the diaspora, it seems to me like an oversight; or at the very least a missed opportunity on the part of the curators to look at the similarly rich histories that led to the emergence of the black dandy right here on the continent. Hence my hope that through our home-grown stars, someone — anyone — looks into the Black dandy’s rich African history.
Image: Daniele Tamagni
I’m reminded of Solange Knowles’s pre-Seat at the Table era, with the music video to her hit song Losing You shot in KwaLanga in Cape Town back in 2013. The video takes inspiration from the “sapeurs” — members of the Society of Ambience-Makers and Elegant People, originating in the Congolese cities of Brazzaville and Kinshasa. Solange had become interested in the Sape culture having come across photographer Daniele Tamagni’s book Gentlemen Of Bacongo.
“This society ... professes an almost religious devotion to fashion (and has its own rules of ethical behaviour) ... The sapeurs, dressed in clothes that confront accepted standards (…) rise in stark contrast to their social environment. The way they choose and combine their outfits looks picturesque, but it acts as a creative expression of local tastes, attitudes, and aesthetics that favours the use of bold colours, cheerfully combined,” Tamagni writes on his website
Similarly, SA’s “swenkas” have been an enduring image of Zulu dandyism. Swenkas are Zulu migrant labourers who created a dandy culture in the hostels of Johannesburg. They re-enacted dandyism quite early in the apartheid era, where competitions would be held with performers expressing their identity through dress, attitude and a commitment to certain, clearly defined moral codes. A modern version of this, if only aesthetically, is perhaps what’s come to be known as “nkabi drip” — a style of dress popularised by artists such as Big Zulu, S’java and influencers like Bafana Mthembu.
Image: Courtesy of eezynkabi and Puma / instagram
But there is much to dig into, going back into the history of British conquest on the continent. I’m specifically thinking of that famous image of Zulu King Cetshwayo ka Mpande during his visit to London in 1882, where he adopted Western dress in the form of a double-breasted suit, but still kept his traditional headdress - isicoco.
To me, it’s a marker of how black dandyism has evolved from necessity — as it has in other parts of the world. Cetshwayo had been defeated and arrested by the British before he went to London for that famous visit. This is, to me, a metaphor for how black style, and dandyism specifically, as we know it today, emerges from our subjugation, and subsequent cultural conformity.
This is even evident when you look at hip-hop and how Dapper Dan evolved from pariah to icon within fashion. To recap his briefly, Dapper Dan had a famous Harlem boutique in the 1980s where he made custom pieces that repurposed luxury brand logos. Said brands sought to shut down his operation, which had become popular with black sports, and music stars, due to his unauthorised use of their logos.
There are unmissable parallels between this and the sapeurs, swenkas and, to a far lesser extent, King Cetshwayo’s attempts at conforming in a white man’s world, while still trying to maintain a semblance of authenticity. That is black dandyism, and Africa has a rich history of it that risks going unnoticed come May 2025, at the Met Gala.
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