instagram.com
semilla.coaching on Instagram: "There was a time — not so long ago — when the streets of Kabul, Karachi, and Mogadishu were alive with color. Women walked with gra…"
There was a time — not so long ago — when the streets of Kabul, Karachi, and Mogadishu were alive with color. Women walked with grace and confidence, wrapped in bright silks and embroidered fabrics that mirrored their land, the sun, the sand, the sea. Their clothing wasn’t just beautiful; it told stories of tribe, craftsmanship, femininity, and pride.In Afghanistan of the 1950s and 60s, women in Kabul wore skirts and scarves in Western styles, studied at universities, and worked in public life. Pakistan had designers blending tradition with modernity, radiant shalwar kameez, jeweled bangles, and silk dupattas that shimmered under the South Asian sun. In Somalia, the guntiino, bold, patterned, and sensual, spoke of African artistry and desert spirit.Then came the turning of the tide, the rise of fundamentalism and the political weaponization of modesty. In Afghanistan, it accelerated after the Soviet invasion and the Taliban’s rise; in Pakistan, under General Zia’s Islamization; in Somalia, with the spread of Wahhabi influence.It didn’t happen overnight, within two to three decades, color became sin, beauty became shame, and elegance became defiance. Black replaced red, fabric replaced skin, fear replaced expression. Women who once chose what to wear were told what to hide.In less than half a century, cultures of color, embroidery, and individuality were reduced to monochrome, black veils, black gloves, black laws. Yet the color never truly died; it simply went beneath the surface, waiting to bloom again. Because in every forbidden thread and memory of those vibrant dresses lives something eternal, the soul of freedom, the pulse of womanhood, the color of life itself.View all 6,033 comments
