Beyond Hijab and Modest Fashion: Muslim American Women’s Negotiations of Wardrobes and Identities
Introduction
We Are Lady Parts on Peacock TV
Growing up in the United States, I never saw myself in fashion magazines or television. More recently, there has been an array of shows with Indian characters like in Just Like That and The Sex Lives of College Girls, as well as Muslim characters in Ramy and Sort Of. But in the critically acclaimed British show We are Lady Parts, we are introduced to the widest range of Muslim women I have yet seen on TV: Amina who wears hijab, Momtaz who wears niqab, and Saira who wears short sleeves and doesn’t cover her hair, but also Bisma who wears a variation of the hijab that allows her to wear earrings and necklace and Ayesha who wears hijab with makeup. In many ways just watching one scene from this show demonstrates the fluidity of modest fashion among Muslim women.
With this diversity and fluidity in mind, my research takes a closer look at how real South Asian Muslim American (SAMA) women in the greater Chicago area use dress to construct ethno-religious identity and community. [1] SAMA women negotiate collective, as well as personal, identities through everyday and holiday clothing. Through my research, I have developed a complex understanding of modesty and fashion for Muslim women. I have found that religion, culture, and gender shape fashion norms for Muslim women through clothes, accessories, and makeup. Fashion is used as a way to create community and partnership for SAMA women in the American Muslim diaspora.
Methodology
Doing research on a population that I am also part of had many advantages in terms of already understanding the norms around modesty, but I also had to put aside many of my assumptions because as a sociologist I was aware that class, in addition to religion, race, and gender, plays an important role in shaping choices around modesty and fashion.
I conducted interviews with SAMA women in the greater Chicago area between 2015–2017 where I had previously lived for graduate school. I had insider and outsider status on multiple levels with this project. I am South Asian American, Muslim, second-generation, and bilingual. All of the respondents for this study were United States citizens, Muslim women, and were between the ages of 26–49. I felt very comfortable reaching out to women for this project, because I often saw myself in them.
Literature review
Bringing my own perspective on modest fashion together with the scholarship and the interview results helped create a more complicated understanding of modest fashion. Research on fashion has illustrated that clothing is coded with both class status and gender; new research on modest fashion shows that religion, gender, and colorism play important roles in reading fashion in the Muslim context. [2][3] The de Young Museum recently hosted the Contemporary Muslim Fashions exhibit with Reina Lewis as consulting curator; the exhibit showcased the cultural diversity but also high-end aesthetics of modest and Muslim fashion. [3]
Modesty practices among Muslim women vary in both Muslim and non-Muslim majority societies. In Western media, particularly since September 11, 2001, as Islam has become synonymous with fundamentalism and terrorism, the hijab continues to be used to represent women’s oppression. However, the reality of American Muslim women’s lives challenges these limited understandings of women and religion. The SAMA women I spoke with have varied modesty practices that make use of multiple consumption projects including cosmetics, jewelry, and clothing, as well as hair covering.
Furthermore, the vast literature on Muslim women, veiling, and the hijab has explored multiple reasons why women choose to wear hijab and challenges earlier hegemonic arguments shaping debates about hijab, feminism, patriarchy, and oppression. [4] Modest Muslim fashion can range from wearing the traditional salwar kameez without makeup or jewelry to wardrobes that may not include hair covering, to wearing a tunic with leggings. Because of its often-modest styles, the salwar kameez is commonly worn to both cultural events, such as dinner parties in the community, and to religious events at the mosque. But another loose, long-sleeve dress over pants with a scarf could also be worn to the mosque. Though a dress and pants would have no specific cultural meaning, it would read just as modest as a salwar kameez with a dupatta.
“South Asian practices including the consumption of Indian jewelry, South Asian ethnic clothing, and ornate accessories are linked to multiple cultural identities, rather than just social class or conspicuous consumption. ”
SAMA women who cover their hair either wear dupattas (the long scarves traditionally worn in Pakistan and South Asia), the traditional hijab (which covers their hair and neck but leaves their faces uncovered), or the turban-style hijab (which is traced to African styles and is sometimes worn by African American Muslims and younger American immigrant Muslim women). We also see the practice of niqab, though that did not show up in my study. Among the women I interviewed, all who covered their hair wore the traditional style of hijab except for Zeenat, who wore the turban style of hijab, which covers the hair but leaves the neck and ears exposed. This American style of hijab was popularized by African Americans. [5] Zeenat had been part of the Muslim Student Association during her college years and was socialized in a multi-racial American Muslim community, both of which influenced her interpretations of Islam and modesty.
Lena in a festive Eid salwar kameez
These variations in hijab and modesty practices are often more complicated than they might appear, as Khabeer (2016) documents in her work on religious authenticity among the hierarchy of immigrant Islam in Chicago. [6] Khabeer’s analysis of American Muslims in Chicago examines hijab or hoodjabi—an authentic form of clothing consumption for African American Muslim women—and finds that young SAMA women in Chicago often appropriate the hoodjabi styles of hijab. The hoodjabi style shows the ears and neck but still covers the hair. It’s been perceived as a hybrid of hijab and hoodies.
Shabana Mir’s research found that gender, along with class and ethnicity, shapes how Muslim American women dressed on college campuses. She writes that “feminine etiquette,” along with class and cultural norms, shapes how upwardly mobile immigrant Muslims are fashionable and modest. [7] Religion can materialize in multiple ways as a community marker, and for the women interviewed for this research, religion shaped wardrobes in the form of modesty. Modesty sometimes takes the form of hijab, but other times is interpreted as loose clothing, a scarf, minimal makeup, or plain jewelry. Mir describes modesty practice as a continuum and explains this as believing in “the spirit of modesty culturally or contextually interpreted.”
South Asian practices including the consumption of Indian jewelry, South Asian ethnic clothing, and ornate accessories are linked to multiple cultural identities, rather than just social class or conspicuous consumption. These multiple cultural identities inform the triple consciousness of SAMA women.
SAMA women in this research exhibit a type of high- to low-brow preference when it comes to clothing and shopping. These women have the cultural capital and economic resources to be omnivorous in their wardrobe choices. They have cultural knowledge about fashion and consumption and keep up with the trends at chain stores like J.Crew, Banana Republic, or Anthropologie but are also aware of high fashion from less known designers, like Clare Vivier, and more popular ones, like Stella McCartney. Ultimately, class privilege shapes the omnivorous choices these SAMA women make as they construct their wardrobes. I grew up in a similar community, where the Muslim middle-class women would wear Gap sweatshirts, Gucci sunglasses, and Veja sneakers.
Yasmeen Noor wears a bridal tikka
Like in the community in which I was raised, I observed that SAMA women are socialized to display femininity through both their western and South Asian wardrobes’ “acceptable” makeup, jewelry, and fashion choices. Since for many South Asian women, ethnic identity is maintained through clothing (in addition to food), SAMA women often find themselves creating a second wardrobe. The South Asian women’s ethnic wardrobe consists of Indian or Pakistani saris, salwar kameezes, and lenghas (blouse worn with an ornate long skirt). Having the appropriate modest salwar kameez with a dupatta to wear to a Ramadan dinner party or a modern custom-made lengha to wear to a wedding is a way that gender, cultural identity, and class are all displayed but also a way to link the wearer to the immigrant community.
I carried this insider knowledge with me as I continued my own research with women who shared my ethnic and religious identities. Insiders within an ethnic community will understand the display of cultural wardrobes differently than outsiders from the dominant groups. Cultural wardrobes signal to other immigrants that they are also part of a community. Salwar kameezes and lenghas are both traditionally worn with ornate earrings and bangles. From a young age, Desi girls are exposed to South Asian jewelry such as hoop jhumka (the chandelier type of earrings), churiya (South Asian bangles), and eye makeup, including kajal eyeliner. Bridal jewelry often has even more significance. Many brides wear tikkas (forehead jewelry) in addition to churiya and jhumka. Indian and Pakistani jewelry is valued for its gold and stones but also for its cultural significance. Salwar kameezes in particular are gendered and cultural clothing read by insiders within a community for their style, femininity, and modesty. But SAMA women with higher cultural and social capital within the Desi community have access to a broader array of wardrobe choices. Salwar kameez varieties are shaped by class, ethnic region, and even modesty. Lenghas are elaborate floor length skirts with matching blouses. Saris also have regional, ethnic, and classed meanings. Designers, trends, quality, and fabric all shape how salwar kameez, lenghas, and saris are valued.
Deeba’s wedding bangles (churiya)
Not only are their consumption patterns shaped by western tastemakers like Gwyneth Paltrow (some SAMA women follow Goop) or Beyoncé, but South Asian community members play a role in the cultural policing of appropriate wardrobe choices within their community, especially for religious holidays, weddings, and community dinners. What is culturally appropriate at work is not necessarily appropriate at community events. Ethnic clothing is more often worn in religious spaces and at cultural events. Modesty norms are also stricter at religious events, especially at mosques. Community surveillance of modesty practices is often shaped by a community’s religious norms and/or ethnic expectations, as women surveille the authenticity of each other’s festival outfits. Cultural authenticity is often read through clothing items like saris, salwar kameez, and lenghas, but also through jewelry usually made in India or Pakistan.
Fashion trends and religion both shape forms of modesty and hijab. Desi American Muslim women in the second generation who choose to wear hijab cover their hair with hijab rather than dupattas. Desi Muslim women in the first generation that covered their hair wore a mix of dupattas and hijabs. For the Desi American Muslim women I interviewed, adopting the hijab was usually a result of religious socialization within the multi-racial American Muslim community, including involvement with the MSA (Muslim Student Association) and ISNA (Islamic Society of North America). These multi-racial organizations and communities include American Muslims that are African Americans Muslims, South Asian, and Middle Eastern immigrants. Similar to the depictions in the show We Are Lady Parts, the American Muslim community is racially diverse as well as varying in performances of modesty.
Khaleda Laila wears a white lengha
I emphasize throughout this paper that modest fashion is much more than hair covering. Modest fashion includes various iterations of hair covering but also choices around accessories, jewelry, and makeup. Some of the women approved of light makeup and others spoke of ornate jewelry that would be worn to weddings or celebrations. Wearing makeup was a point of negotiation. Some women considered wearing heavy or bright makeup to be immodest. One woman spoke at length about how she wore more makeup when she wore hijab because she felt the focus was on her face. Their different opinions and choices reflect autonomy and agency in negotiating norms around modesty to fit their modern and active lifestyles.
Modesty can be interpreted literally in terms of “covering up,” but it can also be understood as dressing plainly and avoiding makeup or jewelry. SAMA women exert some agency in constructing their own understandings of a “modest wardrobe.” These negotiations are between and often through their ethnic/immigrant and religious communities. There is not only a physical community but an online community that is also part of this ongoing negotiation around religion, fashion, and gender. Looking at online sites like HauteHijab or muslimgirl.com, we can observe the online discourse around modest fashion and Muslim women.
Negotiations and hybrid identities
Many of the SAMA women I spoke to explained that they wanted to dress modestly but also be fashionable. As I’ve kept in touch with some of the women I interviewed, they have sent me links to modest influencers that they now follow and pointed out how much easier it has become to find modest clothing in stores.
Accessories and makeup, as well as hijab, other hair coverings, and clothing are all important aspects of how SAMA women apply religious norms in the American context. The assemblage of various modesty objects and their relationships to one another helps construct a modest wardrobe. Parveen, a teacher at an Islamic school in Chicago, explained why she didn’t wear heavy makeup but found jewelry acceptable. She is rationalizing how modesty fits in with other concerns such as fashion in the Muslim or South Asian context:
We are required to do hijab at work. But I do hijab outside of this place [Islamic school], too. ... it’s so hard as it is to do hijab, if you wanna add a necklace or something, I don’t think it’s the end of the world…. I’m not big on, like, heavy makeup though. I just feel like, you know, when they say that we’re supposed to not—.. we don’t want guys to stare at us. I don’t think that a necklace is gonna do any of that,…but it’s, like, heavy, heavy makeup with a hijab, or tighter fitting clothes, I don’t agree. I just, … if you’re gonna do hijab, you might as well do it correctly.
Similarly, Deeba, who also wore the hijab, spoke about trying to avoid wearing extravagant jewelry because she wore hijab:
I do think, like, whenever it crosses the line of being extravagant and things like that, and so, I mean I will wear jewelry whenever we’re going to a wedding…you know...poking the earrings out of my hijab, or even having ... the tikka [jewelry worn on forehead] thing like on top of the hijab…. Or they have... the headband style jewelry on top of hijab—like that got really popular and caught on, and so,…if it’s like a special occasion like that, I will, I will go ahead and wear jewelry. But on a daily basis, I really don’t wear jewelry.
Where Deeba spoke about avoiding extravagant jewelry, Zeenat spoke about needing to wear larger jewelry with the turban style of hijab. Zeenat noted that she wore larger jewelry, particularly earrings, but lighter makeup to offset the turban style of hijab that she wore instead of the traditional style that many of the other SAMA women wear :
.. I wear it [hijab] mostly back….so I wear it like a bun—like a turban, almost…. …and then there are other times I’ll wear it normal [traditionally]. It accentuates your face…. So like, like what would be a little bit of makeup on somebody else will look like it’s like a pound of makeup on you. And so, like, that does play a role…And then jewelry-wise, so because I wear the turban style…I can wear, like, a necklace and earrings and stuff…. But with the hijab…, I feel like I have to wear bigger earrings,…because otherwise it’s, like, all throw[n] off balance.
Zeenat chose to wear the turban style of hijab that was also reflected in Khabeer’s (2016) research. This was an aesthetic choice she made because she viewed the turban style as more fashionable because it allowed her to wear accessories and jewelry, including earrings. As Zeenat shows us, modesty and fashion are not mutually exclusive. A last significant interpretation of modesty through wardrobe choices was how modesty was reflected in designer clothing. Only one SAMA woman mentioned that wearing designer labels with visible logos was not a modest practice. She explained that covering her hair and the body was only part of modesty and that modest dressing included using some reasonable restraint when it came to showing off wealth through flashy jewelry or labels. But wearing ornate or heavy jewelry was often discussed as a cultural practice among SAMA women. Owning and wearing Indian and Pakistani jewelry in particular was linked to displaying ethnic identity, which often included large gold hoop or elaborate drop earrings, jeweled necklaces, and glass or gold bangles from South Asia. Zarina, a 28-year-old Pakistani-American woman, spoke about how religion and culture shaped her wardrobe (emphasis added below).
So, I wear full sleeves and three-quarter. But when I’m running…or working out, I’ll wear half sleeves…. And it’s the same for me when I was Hijabi. …I try to get that a little bit longer, a little bit looser. Certain trends I just love. Like the harem pants,—the wide leg pants. They’re super halal and very easy, and they’ve been around for years now. So, I love those and I’ll, I’ll go with those when I can, ‘cause they help my like tryin’ to be modest thing.... ... But for me, I, because of my lack of ability to know for sure, about the sources of say, (Right) there’s, they could be a, a fancy like, a more formal brand that’s more, um, you know, that claim they’re more ethical, but how do I know that?... So because I don’t know it for sure, it doesn’t mean any more to me than I would be shopping at H&M.
Zarina also explained that she no longer wore hijab but still maintained a modest wardrobe by wearing three-quarter sleeve tops. She discussed her interest in buying more ethically sourced clothing and avoiding brands that had been cited for sexism or cultural appropriation. She spoke in particular about American Apparel’s sexist practices and called their ads “borderline pornography” and mentioned Urban Outfitters’ cultural appropriation including that of Native American necklaces, symbolic Indigenous images, or traditional tribal patterns on textiles.
“Kaneez explained that her Pakistani clothes gave her a feeling of cultural and religious belonging and nostalgia.”
My conversation with Kaneez revealed the importance of ethnic wardrobes for both belonging and partnerships within an immigrant community. She spoke about her pride in her Desi wardrobe. Kaneez explained:
I love having Desi clothes in my closet. Because for me it feels like one of those—one of the things that we’re holding on to…. So I love having Desi clothes. I love wearing them.
Kaneez expressed her “love” of her Desi clothing and explained that her Pakistani clothes, including her salwar kameezes, gave her a feeling of cultural and religious belonging and nostalgia. She explained their significance in relation to both Pakistani weddings (cultural events) but also for Friday prayer and the month of Ramadan (religious events). She also explained that when she did wear hijab, it shaped her clothing choices. When she wore hijab she had a heightened awareness of how she was perceived as an immigrant Muslim woman, and that she often was referred to FOB (fresh off the boat) by people in her own SAMA community:
Yes. When I was wearing hijab, I would work twice as hard on any outfit, and I would work twice as hard to look presentable and professional. .. Makeup I wore more .… I never wore glasses with hijab, and now I wear ‘em almost every day…. That won’t look FOB-y on the same exact outfit…. personally I feel like I have to work less.…achieve the same look because of no hijab, which sucked.
Kaneez also described a conversation with her mother about hijab in which her mother explained why she shouldn’t be wearing more makeup with hijab because hijab is meant to be about modesty.
Yes…Yeah, and it’s almost interesting and ironic because part of the whole hijab thing is to be, like, modest…. My favorite feature about myself is probably my hair…. [Mom's] like, “Well, why would I wear red lipstick or a lot of eyeliner, or mascara, when the whole point of hijab is being modest?” And I’m like, “That’s a good point I can’t argue with, so…”
In addition to and intersecting with religion and culture, gender expectations are a significant aspect of SAMA women’s wardrobes.
Yasmeen wears a festive and modest sari with hijab
Gender and Ethnicity: SAMA Women and the Display of Femininity
In response to social and cultural ideologies, Muslim women actively construct their presentation of self, including material aspects of their physical appearance such as clothing, makeup, and accessories. These accoutrements are part of the performative aspects of gender and, while individualized, they are also contextualized and specific to time, culture, and place. SAMA women are often socialized into how they display gender through “feminine” clothing, including Desi wardrobes and Western fashion. SAMA women “do gender” when they curate their Western and ethnic wardrobes, apply makeup, and put on accessories. Displays of gender and femininity are usually a result of socialization from the Western media, family, friends, and ethno-religious community.
The salwar kameez was more common than the sari amongst the SAMA women I interviewed in Chicago. First popularized in northern India, then in Pakistan and in the western diaspora, salwar kameez was often preferred over saris for the ethnic dress of South Asian Muslim women in Britain and the United States because of its modest appeal. [8] The salwar kameez and sari both originated in India, but since the salwar kameez was introduced by the Mughals, it has historically held a Muslim connotation. This connotation later dissipated when the salwar kameez was eventually adopted by many educational and other national institutions because it afforded women more physical mobility than they had when wearing saris. Wearing long sleeves and loose Western clothing was also a recurring theme in discussions of modesty.
As Muslim women in the United States are increasing their presence on social media, we see a larger range of images of SAMA woman, especially on Instagram and TikTok. But the multiple interpretations of modesty are not always represented in popular culture via television or film, as even in television shows like ER, Muslim women are represented wearing hijab.When I think of my mother’s generation, the representation of Muslim women in the 1970s and 1980s was much more narrow in both fashion media and American popular culture.
Shakaera wears a hijab and mask on Eid during the pandemic
Conclusion
As the diversity of the American landscape continues to evolve, it’s even more clear that fashion helps create community and partnership, especially for marginalized women. SAMA women consciously use their fashion choices to express their religion, ethnic, gender, and classed identities. They express agency and autonomy in how they negotiate and construct their wardrobes. Muslim women often explore an array of modest wardrobe fashion, from wearing hijab to taking off hijab to wearing loose clothing, to negotiating modesty norms.
Religion and fashion matter even for those SAMA women who don’t wear hijab. Muslim modesty norms continue to evolve and are often shaped by culture and class. South Asian practices including the consumption of Indian jewelry, Indian/Pakistani ethnic clothing, and ornate accessories are linked to multiple cultural identities. Fashion is used as a way to create community and partnership for SAMA women in the American Muslim diaspora. However, hijab and burqa bans and pandemic mask mandates continue in Europe, and as I conclude this essay, the practice of hijab has also been highlighted in discussions around cultural appropriation as balaclavas trend on TikTok and Instagram. [9] Hijab bans continue as they are a manifestation of xenophobia and anti-immigrant policies targetting Muslim immigrants in Europe. Even as the pandemic begins to slow down, wearing a mask does not carry with it the same Islamaphobic sentiment.
Though modest fashion plays an important role in religious and ethnic communities, Islamic and global fashion in particular is also an important place we can study xenophobia and political ideologies. [10] Growing up as a Muslim immigrant woman in the United States, I’ve observed changes in how modest fashion is now more visible but also often appreciated by some in the fashion industry, and appropriated by others on social media. As I write this final sentence, courts in India uphold the hijab bans in schools demonstrating how legislation around clothing is weaponized. [11] Though modest fashion is an important aspect of identity and community for Muslim American women, hijab and other forms of Muslim women’s dress continue to be the object of discrimination.
Noor wears a bridal pink dupatta
Notes
[1] Ternikar, Farha. 2021. Intersectionality in the Muslim South Asian-American Middle Class Lifestyle Consumption beyond Halal and Hijab. Latham: Lexington Press.
[2] Crane, Diane. 2000. Fashion and Its Social Agendas: Class, Gender, and Identity in Clothing. Chicago: University of Chicago.
[3] Lewis, Reina . 2019. Muslim Fashion: Contemporary Style Cultures. Durham: Duke University Press.
[4] Dougherty, Tara. “Contemporary Muslim Fashions Virtual Tour: Cooper Hewitt, Smithsonian Design Museum.” https://www.cooperhewitt.org/2020/04/24/contemporary-muslim-fashions-virtual-tour/.
[5] Khan, Khan and Marcia Hermansen. 2008. “Bismillahs, Barbies and Bling: Loyola Girls Studies Conference Report.” American Journal of Islamic Social Sciences 25 (4).
[6] Khabeer, Suad Abdul. 2016. Muslim Cool: Race, Religion, and Hip Hop in the United States. New York: New York University Press.
[7] Mir, Shabana. 2014. Muslim American Women on Campus: Undergraduate Social Life and Identity. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press.
[8] Hansen, Karen. “The World in Dress: Anthropological Perspectives on Clothing, Fashion, and Culture”. 33 (2004), pp. 369-392. Annual Review of Anthropology. Volume, 33.
[9] Lang, Cady. “Where France's Possible New Hijab Ban Fits into History.” Time, May 19, 2021. https://time.com/6049226/france-hijab-ban/
[10] Kambhampaty, Anna P., and Danya Issawi. “Balaclavas Are Trendy, but for Some Muslim Women It's More Complicated.” The New York Times, January 13, 2022. https://www.nytimes.com/2022/01/13/style/balaclavas-muslim-women-hijab.html
[11] Yasir, Sameer. “Indian Court Upholds Ban on Hijabs in Schools.” The New York Times, March 15, 2022. https://www.nytimes.com/2022/03/15/world/asia/india-hijab-ban-schools.html
