An American Classic
![levis-m-517-dkden[1]](http://adaezetome.files.wordpress.com/2009/10/levis-m-517-dkden1.jpg?w=225&h=300 "levis-m-517-dkden[1]")
American Classic
Ankara cloth is perfect for warm-hot weather environments because it traps the sweat and cools the body more efficiently than jeans. However, you can never go wrong with jeans. Well, actually you can, when I see grandmothers wearing jeans that Naomi Campbell threw out, I realize that it is possible to insult the jean culture. Maybe that is why Naomi beat her maid whom she caught wearing her jeans. So, maybe what I should have said is that you can never go wrong with a great pair of jeans that belong to you. I have grown to appreciate all types of jeans and the forms in which they come.
![levis[1]](http://adaezetome.files.wordpress.com/2009/10/levis1.jpg?w=300&h=225 "levis[1]")
I love that there are so many different styles, colors, and shapes. The limitations are endless and anyone can wear a pair of jeans if they want to bearing in mind the appreciation for their body and what would work for them.
![DSC_7235[1]](http://adaezetome.files.wordpress.com/2009/10/dsc_72351.jpg?w=200&h=300 "DSC_7235[1]")
Skinny Jeans
Tomorrow, I am going to find the nearest Levi’s store and go in there to start the process. I am so excited and I can not wait…Will keep you posted! Cheers, Adaeze
Longing for Longchamp
My Love: Woodin in Lomé
Am home in the US for several months and I can’t be more excited. Yeah, bay-bay! I love Togo but I am excited to return to see family, friends, and associates. I am also excited to show off the fashions I have had made. To celebrate this event (as I do every event), I sexily walked into one of my favorite cloth stores Woodin to buy some fabric. God knows that I do not need more fabric but who can resist? Like I have stated time and time again in this blog, I need a vice. It’s only natural. No one is perfect.
So, I had decided to purchase a cloth screaming with violet and lavender before I had left Togo. My older sister, Sira had given me some funky deep violet colored shoes from Naf Naf, a cool prêt-a-porter store in France and I knew the shoes would go with the cloth. I made my outfit which was a long dress with edges fringed with lavender lace. And as usual, I made a headwrap from the fabric left over. Must protect the sisterlocks when in need. And then it hit me: I DID NOT HAVE A HANDBAG THAT MATCHED!!! I felt like my world was coming to an end. Ok, well, let’s be rational about this. I just knew I did not look right with out the right handbag.
Purple passion Woodin ankara cloth
Any woman can attest to this; the shoes and handbag and jewelry and hair and blah, blah, blah make the outfit. I said to myself that I would have to do something about this. I said, “Self, we must get to Longchamp!” As fate (and Air France) would have it, passing through the Charles de Gaulle airport in Paris this past weekend on my way home to the US, I stopped by the Longchamp boutique. Why Longchamp? Well, first I absolutely adore their colors and their names. Fabulous names like Myrtille, which resembles a deep rich violet color, Aubépine, a smooth pinkish color, Tilleul (grayish), and Chardon (carbon grayish color). And when I saw the Myrtille color, it was like I saw the light. Literally. The boutique is lit to blinding proportions that I should have been wearing sunglasses. With out a second thought, I bought the porté main (handbag), the pochette (make-up bag) and the tiny little coin purse; all of them in that beautiful and brand new color of the season, Myrtille. The porté main was for me but the other two items were gifts for friends who were letting me stay with them. Gotta always share the wealth and spread the Longchamp love.
Longchamp's Handbag in Myrtille
Longchamp's Pochette in Myrtille color
Also, I think that there is a common misconception that women or people in many African countries can not afford some of the items from stores that are in the Occident and that is the reason why many of these companies do not feel the need to open up boutiques or stores in many of these African countries. To a certain degree, I understand where this thought process comes from and why. In the case of Togo, it is a developing country and the poverty is blatently visible and can be overwhelming. However, it must be kept in mind that every country, every city has different levels of societies who have different levels of income. Having worked as a Peace Corps volunteer in a small town in Togo to now living in an affluent neighborhood in the capital city, I have seen varying levels of socioeconomic status. And as a proponent of private sector development, I believe whole-heartedly that private sector development will be a major factor in decreasing the poverty levels in many developing countries. Unless more and more private companies start investing in Togo, it is going to be very difficult for the country to make any notable economic progress. Two areas of the private sector that come to mind that can be greatly developed are the fashion and make-up industry. Every woman wants to be well-dressed and beautiful. Women will pay a great deal of money for their make-up and their clothes. For a certain class of women in Togo, they have to travel abroad to get some of their fashion and make-up fixes but for the women who work and who do not have the biggest bank accounts, they will save to buy their items in Togo such as cloth from Woodin or Vlisco. It is a status symbol. If Longchamp were to come to Togo, it definitely would have a market, maybe not as big of a market as in Paris but definitely a market. I keep thinking of all the women from Benin, Ghana, Nigeria and from within Togo who would travel to buy their products. And of course, they would have me, the one who has been longing for them to come to Togo.
Dress made of Woodin ankara cloth+Longchamp bag= style
Cheers, Adaeze
Giving: Always Fashionable
Wondering what gift to give next and to whom.
Awww…It feels so good to give…to me! Yes, I love when people give to ME. It feels great! If you are wondering (or disgusted) with why I am so excited about people giving to me and sounding a bit selfish, it is usually because I am the one doing the giving, and randomly. I don’t wait for birthdays or the holidays. And I don’t like to discuss my random acts of kindness disability. I can go for months without getting material gifts from anyone but recognizing that all who come into my life bless me with a lesson. But today was different because I actually got material gifts. First, my sisterlocks give me freedom and happiness everyday (the sisterlocks were certainly not free but the ability to be happy and free were gifts given to me before I arrived into this world). Earlier this morning, a close friend of my sister, Sira surprised the entire family by presenting me with 5 yards of lace cloth she brought back from traveling to Thailand. Very expensive, too, when I really looked at it. After seeing the lace, I forgave her completely for knocking at my door at 7AM. The icing on the cake was that the cloth was white with beautiful pink roses, my favorite flower. How did she know I would like that? I never told her that. Frankly, I don’t tell her anything but I should start because it was such a nice gesture on her part. Thank God she has impeccable taste. I love the way this woman dresses. And just the other day, I was just thinking about all the colors of lace I had wanted to buy; white and pink were amongst the colors. Great minds truly think alike.
The Gift!
Then after my morning run, with spirits high from the workout, my new tailor calls me saying that I have a surprise waiting for me at his boutique. Don’t have to tell me twice to take my shower and run out. You know I hailed the next taxi and ran my little assets over there. Earlier last week I had dropped off apple green bazin riche cloth and asked for it to be embroidered in salmon pink thread. What did he give me? More embroidery than I had asked for at the same price. And the outfit was ready earlier than he had told me it would be which turned out to be 5 days than 9. To tell you the truth, I usually do not get this level of client service here from the git-go. It’s usually a long time in the making. For example, it took a year before my other tailor was picking up from my house and delivering my clothes to my house when I was with Peace Corps living in my village. Things have definitely changed and for the better. Even better, is that this new tailor of mine is Senegalese and knows what he is doing. The training he received in Dakar is amazing and his embroidery skills are fantastic. He just does not sew, he creates which is what I have been looking for all this time. I told him simply one time what it was that I had wanted with the cut of the dress and the embroidery and right away he started giving me other ideas and explaing how certain thread colors would look on bazin riche cloth. He was not at all enthusiastic about my choice of colors. He had not seen apple green with pale pink threading and found the match up of the colors odd. He was very vocal about it but I had explained to him that in the US, I am a proud member of a historically African-American sorority, called Alpha Kappa Alpha and that these were our colors.
My pink and green happiness.
It was a way for me to combine my African heritage with that of my African-American social life. He listened intently and asked me why I would join such a thing since I was African and we already have our own types of secret societies with rites of passages. True, but I had my reasons and they are for me to know along with the people who were with me. I also let him know that these organizations were not that secret. Alot of people know about them. I told him that my sorority is even in Africa. There is a chapter in Monrovia, Liberia and the first female President of an African country, President of Liberia, Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf is a member of the sorority. That did not faze him until I mentioned that the wife of the man of the hour or more like man of many hours to come was a member. His smile was ear to ear when he realized that Michelle Obama was an AKA. “Ok, your organization can’t be all that bad then.” He said all-knowingly giving me his blessings. I guess it is not. After our conversation, I hailed another taxi and went home for my mini-fashion show.
Look at that embroidery!
I was delirious with happiness because I just could not believe my luck today. All these gifts are making me wonder who now I am to give a gift to since I am so happy. That is the way I work; I believing that if you get something, you should always return the favor and do something nice for someone else. Not necessarily the person who did something nice for you but just anyone. Anybody will do. Got to find my next victim. Cheers, Adaeze
Woodin You Know It
Fabric is very important in African culture. That is not a generalization. It is the truth. Ask any African you know. Choosing fabric for any event can be a very time-consuming venture in Africa, but let us narrow the country in Africa down to Togo since I am here.
Vilisco Mag Sept 2009
Went to downtown Lomé and hit up two of my favorite boutiques called Vlisco and Woodin. They are both fabric stores from Europe which cater to the African market selling mostly Ankara cloth. Ankara is a cotton-based cloth with beautiful prints and designs and can be found in any African clothing store anywhere in the world. This cloth is especially appreciated in Africa because of its ability to absorb sweat and keep the wearer cool. Woodin and Vlisco do not sell bazin riche cloth, my favorite cloth but it does not stop me from running there every three months when I know new shipment has come in and when their fashion magazine comes out. It is a glossy magazine showing beautiful
To Die For!
models wearing different Western designs using the Ankara cloth sold in the boutiques. It is a great way to bring a little bit of African fashion to the rest of the world. Oh, what joy would come to my eyes to see one of those models wearing sisterlocks. The dream would be complete. Now, that I am back on Earth and specifically Togo, I can just wonder about what next is coming to the stores in the coming months. Any given day in Lomé, Vlisco and Woodin have the most fashionable women leisurely promenading through the store as they look for that next stand out fabric they are going to buy to go to a party, work, or whatever. Even if it is to just stay home and receive guests.
What I am going to do with this left over woodin ankara and left over white bazin riche cloth?
I love going to these stores because of all of the gorgeous fabric displayed throughout the four walls. And because I design my own clothes, it is a joy for me to imagine what I can create from the fabrics I buy from these boutiques. Sometimes it arises that they do not have the required 4 meters or 4.5 yards I need to make a complete outfit, so I take what is left and combine it with bazin riche cloth. I am not the first person to have thought of this, so please do not give me credit where none is deserved. But I must say that I get stopped regularly and asked who made my outfit. And all I can say is that I designed it but I did not sew it. I really should have taken some sewing classes and even now, because I have so much time on my hands maybe I should take a class. The only problem is that there are no vocational schools which teach these things here. You have to go to a tailor/seamstress and ask to be an apprentice. The apprentices I know are all treated like a word I can not even say if we are to keep this blog G rated and it is not the most enviable place to be, according to what they tell me. You work 8 hours and for FREE, Monday to Saturday. Infact, in Togo, it is the apprentices who have to PAY their employees. The apprentices give the employer money and gifts to express their undying gratitude for allowing them to witness the employers’ work at the end of their 6 months-2 year stint. I am sorry to say but my days of working for free are pretty much done here. Well, let me not say that because I am the first to volunteer to go to a soup kitchen, but what I am saying is that I need to make money if I am doing something for 8 hours every day. Money is something I take very seriously. I like the smell. I like its look. I like it. Any money. I am not prejudice. I could care less about anyone else’s money but my money is something I pay very close attention to for the most part. And because Woodin and Vlisco are not inexpensive, I have to pay very close attention to my money, but like I have said before, I am entitled to at least one vice in this world.
Voilà! My job interview forced me to solve the problem very quickly.
Cheers, Adaeze
Fashionably Sisterlocked
Loving fashion and West African cloth the way I do, I have been fortunate enough to identify seamstresses/tailors who specialize in working with certain types of cloth here in Lomé. One of my favorite types of cloth is bazin, but not just any bazin, but bazin riche; the mother of all bazins.
Blood red bazin riche cloth
My bazin riche seamstress came by my house today to drop off some of the outfits I had designed. I was just as giddy as giddy can be since I love the things I design for myself and I am always pleasantly surprised to see the end result. I was so excited that I ran to get my camera to take pictures to send to my sister in the US who loves bazin riche as well.
Embroidery heaven on orange bazin riche cloth
I love dyed bazin riche cloth and I love working with it since it is a very expensive cloth and you have to be more attentive to it. To produce dyed bazin riche cloth is labor intensive and it shows in the end price in comparison to other cloths. It is one of the temperamental royal divas of the West African cloths kingdom; in line with the likes of aso oke (asho-kay) from Nigeria. The cloth has to be washed a certain way, combined with starch and then finally beaten until it shines; a process that could take anywhere from several days to a month, depending on the intricacies of the designs on the cloth. And believe it or not, there are experts in each of the domains for the production of bazin riche cloth.
And I am not an expert in any of these domains. I do not know how to dye or make the intricate designs so prevalent in the bazin riche cloth which is a white cotton base material. I do not even know how to sew so I have to rely on others to cut and sew my designs for me. I am also an embroidery freak!
My beautifully embroidered bubu!
The more extravagant the embroidery, the better for me. Not very good for my bank account but I feel I am deserving of at least one vice in this world.
Anyway, my seamstress, who is from Mali, tells me that my disgusting need for all to look at my embroidery has to deal with the fact that I am originally from Nigeria. And Nigerians have a reputation for being over-the-top, flashy, hot-headed, and arrogant people, she told me. I told her to please keep the compliments coming. Then without batting an eye, I told her my West African fashion philosophy. I shall let you all in on it, too: “In the grand world of the West African fashion house system, you want your bazin riche outfit to be colored by the maestros in Mali, designed by any top designer coming from Côte d’Ivoire, cut and sewn by the masters in Senegal, but worn by those people from Nigeria.” My best friend is a gorgeous girl from Ghana and even though she might not publicly agree with what I am about to say for fear of being disowned by her kente-cloth loving family, she knows it is true. She is a smart girl. But to continue, when it is time to wear the outfit, only one nation of people in W. Africa really stands out. Only one nation of people in W. Africa can really wear the outfit the way God intended for it to be worn and with the attitude to match. Hands down, you want a Nigerian. We are one of the few nationalities that are taken seriously when we wear our national dress in Africa or abroad. I have never seen a Scottish president wear a kilt to any heads of state meetings or conferences. I am not sure how seriously he would be taken. But with out fail, you see the Nigerian ones always in traditional dress. Now, I do not say this because I happen to be of Nigerian birth. I say this because it is the honorable truth. And we must tell the truth at all times. So, in keeping with telling the truth, my seamstress tells me that I need to get rid of that loc’d look if I am going to be taken seriously wearing the clothes I wear. I replied with,
“Remember that I have Nigerian blood running through my veins. Because of that I can wear the hell out of the sisterlocks AND my outfits. And by the way, do you want your money so that you can go buy the medication you need for that sickness you have?”
She looked perplexed and asked me, “What sickness?”
“Diarrhea of the mouth.” I flatly said.
Needless to say, she made the right decision because she took the money immediately. I love the fact that I can help out the sick in need.
Whatever Shall I DO…
We are in the last final week and a half of Ramadan or Carem as we call it here in Togo. But I am already thinking about what to do with my hair for the final day when the family celebrates at home to mark the end of the Holy Month. I am sure my friends are confused but just to explain, I am Roman Catholic but I have members of my family who are Muslims, like the family members in Lomé with whom I am staying. And because we are family, we celebrate all of the Christian and Muslim holidays to the best of our abilities together. For example, I fast and pray during the Holy Month of Ramadan with them and they celebrate Christmas and the New Year with me. In keeping with any celebration marking the end of something, what to do with our hair and what to wear always comes up. I knew what I was going to wear since I had already made some designs for outfits I wanted, bought the fabric and accessories, and sent one design to a tailor in Abidjan and another here in Lomé. Now, back to the hair. So, as I sat in the family garden, underneath our guava tree, I began to ponder this incredible and potentially life-shattering decision of what to do with my hair for the celebrations, praying that the guava would not drop on my head as I thought this one out. Maybe it should so I can have a Eureka moment…
It dawned on me that I did not have Soft Spike curlers-those infamous Soft Spike curlers. And I have been imagining the many sexy and chic styles I can do with my hair once I get the curlers. And being in Togo, there is NO where to buy such luxuries. But I also realized that a dear friend of mine in NYC was sending me a package including them! Oh, how I love the Peace Corps Mafia. We are so guilty of committing little random acts of kindness for one another. Anyway, the Soft Spike curlers will get here provided that a female customs agent in Togo does not go five-finger discount shopping in my package. Thank God the instructions are in English! But that still left me with the nagging question of what to do with my hair until the curlers came. Braid outs do not last for me. The feast called for all of us women to look as beautiful as possible for as long as possible. My sisterlocks are beautiful and I have my consultant to thank for that. If it had not been for her, I would not have even been this excited to think about my hair. I would have slapped on some braids, retrieved my headscarf, threw on my boubou and called it a day. But now because of sisterlocs, I am actually excited again about what types of different styles I can do with my hair. I like every stage of growing locs and with sisterlocks, it is no different. I love the short choppy wonder that I have going on right now but I know it will not suffice for the party and the big feast. And since we would be with family and friends (some of whom, don’t appreciate my free-styled locs) and since the Imam would not be with us, I would not need to cover my hair… this decision was most perplexing. So, I thought…
And thought…
And thought…I became tired of being tired of thinking and decided that I really liked the look of my sisterlocks as they were. They just needed a little twist. I love sisterlocks in every condition and from every angle. I love them when they are wet, crinkled, dry, wavy, even when they are looking like a science experiment gone wrong. I like them from the side, the front and the back.
My sisterlocks are a month young and I just LOVE them. So, I finally had an amazing epiphany and everything just made sense. I took the amazing decision of doing a certain style with the limited resources I have as I wait for the Soft Spike curlers to come in from my amazing friend, Fly Trisha in NYC!!! And what hair style did I choose to finally do?
Not going to tell you right now. Keep reading and you will see. Cheers, Adaeze
