Headpieces have existed in African cultures for as long as memory allows. They were never mere accessories. They signal belief systems, seniority, marital status, and community affiliation. Some are ceremonial, others circumstantial, but all are intentional. From beads to feathers, ankara to leso, each material carries symbolic weight. Texture, colour, and structure are chosen not only for beauty but for meaning.
In Kenya, the ankara turban continues to cross generations effortlessly. Folded high into a structured crown, knotted boldly at the front or tucked neatly at the nape, pleated for volume, twisted into sculpted coils, wrapped seamlessly without visible knots, or layered over braids and locs with quiet precision. Kenyan women have refined this piece into an art form.
Another resurfacing classic is the vintage hair pin. Whether one or a cluster, it commands presence. Its power lies in the material and the intricate engraved patterns. White ivory against darker, meticulously crafted designs catches the eye, creates contrast, and elevates the look, making it unmistakably unique.
Beaded pieces remain commanding, traditionally inspired by Maasai colour palettes but now expanded into veils that cascade past the shoulders. Seeing a sister or brother wear a beaded piece is exhilarating. It exudes culture, mindfulness, and an undeniable allure.
Evolution is never singular. What feels unique to one community often has a counterpart elsewhere. Culture travels, adapts, and evolves across spaces. If I may be so bold, I would go as far as saying that items 'preferences are seasonal. Certain pieces fade, only to resurface, sometimes through celebrity influence, sometimes through revisiting what was always ours and expanding its language.
Fashion is both progressive and regressive. It remembers, reinterprets, and returns. In that return, it becomes new again.