My first time attending fashion week was during the recently held Uganda International Fashion Week where I was not a guest, but a reporter. From my analysis after the event, I came to the realization that many of the beautiful creations we see on the runway are packed in bags and taken back to the designer’s studio after the show. How unfair? It doesn’t matter how ‘costumey’ some of these creations are, they belong on a body of some fearless fashion lover out there. It doesn’t have to be such a sad ending.
This is why I took it upon myself to not let one of the standout looks from the event go back to the designer’s studio without serving its purpose. During Kai’s Divo Collection’s showcase I fell in love with this beautiful black gown. It featured a high slit and a puffy kikoyi print shoulder. I knew from the minute the model emerged out that it was the piece that would perfectly make my crazy idea turn to fruition.
After the event, I reached out to Kaijuka Abbas, the amiable creative director of Kai’s Divo Collection who fell in love with the idea and immediately invited me in for a fitting. A few alterations were made before I left the Namuwongo based studio with my baby in hand.
I have to be honest, my nerves kicked in immediately I got back to the office. We had a small creative meeting with the shoot director and photographer who visualised the whole thing. How was I going to spend the whole morning floating on the streets of Kampala with cameras following me? I was basically going to be a slay queen for a few hours. The story had to be done anyway, I calmed myself down.
Since I live quite a distance from Kampala, my day kicked off at Jumbo plaza, on Parliamentary Avenue where a family member has a boutique. Imagine stuffing all the fabric in a taxi seat, I wasn’t ready for that. I dressed up just like I would have done at home. I had a little makeup done, and tied my hair into a high puff with crisscross twists in it.
Like I said, it wasn’t an ordinary work day because Asaph, the director and Ochieng, the photographer were in tow as I emerged out of Jumbo plaza. I can’t begin to describe the amount of attention I received as I floated out of the building. The gown made me feel regal, the puffy sleeve gave me imaginary wings and the layers of fabric underneath kept me on my toes. Getting carried away meant tripping over. I wasn’t ready for such a disaster, considering the ululations I was getting from the boda guys across the street.
If you’re familiar with that street you know that the distance from Jumbo plaza to Food Hub is a just a stone throw away. But, by the time I got to the restaurant to grab coffee, I was already feeling like it had been hours of movement. Right away I understood why no one has considered wearing something like this on an ordinary day.
Just like it is shooting a scene of Keeping Up With The Kardashians, I sauntered into Food Hub causing a scene. I settled to sit outside because all eyes were peeled on me, and this was making it impossible for me to calm down. Waiters arrived in seconds to take my order, as others made sure they looked immaculate as they executed their roles. It is then that I came to the realization that status and appearance contribute a lot to how society perceives us. Imagine if I had walked in looking basic, would the waiters have rushed to attend to me like they did? I sipped my coffee in wonderment.
After my experience at Food Hub, I had gathered enough confidence to carry myself through the day. Waiters had showered me with so many compliments that I had even fallen in love with the gown even more. I strutted out to catch a boda to the office.
The initial plan was to catch the boda and dash off, but I decided to switch it up. I felt like my gown hadn’t been noticed enough (forgive me I’m a girl). So I chose to have a short walk down the street before heading out. This turned into a 30 minute photo shoot in the middle of the street. Boda boda guys were spread out throwing comments left right and center, but I was unfazed. I was having my star moment. At some point a taxi made a stop right where I was standing, probably with the intention of giving me a ride.
“Bweyogerere, Kireka, Banda,” he shouted signalling a question to me if I wanted a ride.
I paid no attention. He gave me that head to toe look wondering what in the world I was up to before driving off.
In the middle of this someone shouted from afar, “Laba African Queen!”
I could hear the banter the boda guys were having between themselves. One of them thought we were shooting a music video, another suggested that I could be a ‘slay queen’ who is celebrating her birthday. I laughed it all off and slayed away.
Shortly after, I grabbed a boda which was also another story of its own. Because of what I was wearing everyone wanted to overcharge me. Yes, there’s always a downside to everything, even looking posh. The guys bluntly told me that I looked like money, and because of that they wanted me to pay more. I bargained, just like any typical Kampala girl. In the heat of the moment other boda guys would pass by throw in a comment and offer to take me.
“Wama African Queen jangu nkutwaale,” they offered.
I got a deal afterwards, carried my gown like a baby and sat on the rickety bike. The boda guy was super helpful because he was convinced I was shooting a music video, and so the idea of appearing on TV excited him. I braved through the ride all the way to Kansanga.
When I disembarked at the roadside I decided to slope down the walk way, and that made all the difference with truly getting a feel for the dress. The way it flowed and poured out onto the ground was a powerful moment. That whole journey down people were staring; an unimpressed lady on a boda boda whizzed past me and threw me the nastiest side eye, a sort of “who does this ka chick think she is?”
I continued my strut till I got to a mobile money stall because a girl needed some airtime. The lady at the mobile money spot wasn’t even moved, she was here to do business and go home. Once I had my airtime sent to me, I rushed up the stairs into the building. My colleagues were not ready for the fabric bomb that was my entrance and some were even making way for me to pass.
A few “you’re smart” comments here and there and finally, I was at the door to the office. Once I got in and revved up the laptop to actually try and get some work done, suddenly I noticed how tired I was from lugging around this heavy masterpiece of a dress. I had just developed a little more respect for runway models and how they make anything look effortless, even if it might be taking every ounce of strength for them to do so.
When the day ended it was bittersweet, the dress was so fabulous I could’ve lived in it, but it was also so heavy. It’s not something I’d wear to work, but to an event, yes. And I believe we need to put all this great work to use. Supporting a designer means cheering them on, because they don’t create such beautiful work for it to fill up suitcases. I did my part, over to you.
Go behind the scenes of my experience below
Photos by Ochieng Photography
satisfashionug@gmail.com
