Yeah, I see you’re checking out my Ankara loafers, damn right I’ve got an Ankara tie too and yeah, I was at the jazz fest last night, and the book reading the day before. But don’t call me an afropolitan; I don’t let my dreads go all wild like those weirdos; and yeah I pop Moët sometimes but don’t mistake me for a fashionista. I don’t do Indian hair or Brazilian weave. Hell no, my dreads are in a bun or tied up in Ankara scarf. Yeah, that’s right; I can make anything out of Ankara. So what if I am not catholic but wear a rosary? Anything with beads works anyway.
Please don’t ask me where I got my clothes from (no way I’m telling you where I buy my second hand clothes…Vintage pieces…I meant to say). Just read my super cool blog or better still, follow me on twitter. I’ve got an ipad that goes everywhere with me and maybe my trousers are a tad too short and colorful, but that’s okay ’cause I’m so fucking unique it hurts. There may have been a time when I drank Akamu in the mornings. That’s all in the past. These days its café lattes and green tea, real china import.
I only listen to cool music, anybody that carries a guitar and wears super sized glasses will do. I’m a stylist/ photographer /creative director, etc, in fact, anything that has creativity in it, count me in. I have it in my blood. Did you know that my parents met at Fela’s shrine, dancing the night away? Why are you shaking your head like you don’t believe me? Whatever! Look, I’m so fucking unique it’s not even funny. You’ll never meet another like me….yeah, that’s right, all my friends are Ankara loving, blackberry carrying, bloggers but I am special, and if you don’t believe me, you are just jealous. Keep on hating, I’ll always be cool and you’ll never be.
Sylia Ofili writes a sunday column for the Nigerian Guardian called Sylvia’s Space.
Feature photo credit: Manan Tuli
Photo Credit: Moussa Moussa