Big magazines 🤝🏾 upcycling narratives like “Africa’s time is now”
Lights, camera, “let’s edit this till it’s our version of Africa”
When covers and content centered on African people (living in or outside the continent) are published, I often pause. I take a breather and ask, “In what ways have the directors and editors chosen to make me talk today?” I just like to prepare myself so I’m in better control of my emotions when I decide to read through and write a post, like this one.
If you’re in any way active on social media, following or at least, familiar with the world of fashion, then you’d be aware that on the 13th of January, British Vogue, published their latest issue which explores the rise of the African model, and spotlights the new generation.
The digital edition takes us through the scenes in the studio on shoot day then proceeds to a series of interview bites from various industry players, who speak about diversity, Africa and the modeling industry.
I want to dive deep into the article and tear each line apart as it rings in my head but not today (or ever) because it’s really not the main reason this article was spurred. However, I will, for I must, comment on a few striking lines.
Roll in the screenshots for this script self-titled, upcycling narratives that Africa’s time is now.
Context Matters
Scene One
INT. Editor-in-chief comments on the landscape at the moment
To paraphrase this excerpt, “These 9 modern models who rose to fame within the 2010–2020 decade are giving us a new perspective on what fashion modeling is. Putting them on the cover should have been done sinceeeee, I mean, it was there on the editorial calendar, we just wanted to monitor how much noise will be made about Africa, Africans and black people before releasing it.
Trust me, I’m serious. Look what we did with Brazil, Russia, India etc. We’ve shown you their beauty. But have we shown you African beauty? I think not. The time is now. We’re ready to give Africa a chance and it’s so exciting for the team and I.”
I read the excerpt and thought: So, just like low rise jeans and plastic rings, African models are making a comeback. I wonder who hid their existence…if not the very publications who have only deemed it right in the last two years to frequently put them front and center.
Okoto meow, skrr
Scene Two
INT. Contributing casting director weighs in on lack of diversity
To paraphrase this excerpt, “Don’t get me started on the issues within Africa. To just secure one model from that continent is like pulling out a sunken ship. The pandemic now happened and even made it closer to impossible. That’s really why you don’t see a lot of them on these international runways. And the few you’ve seen is because we tried our best to sort out their visas before the pandemic hit very well. Thank us oo if not ehn. You will not even see one black girl at all, at all. You know, if Africa was more accessible you’ll be seeing a flood of your African queens on the runways.” *Wink wink*
I read the excerpt and thought: An industry which began booming as early as the 1900s and saw little to no African models on the runways, got to the 2000s with the same issue and you, a casting director, one who basically determines who sees who, one who gets to select who gets on the runway, conveniently chose to blame a pandemic. Not just any pandemic. Thee COVID 19 that came many centuries after the modeling industry was birth. I smell a rat. It’s not just any rat…it’s systemic racism.
Inverted mirror, mirror on the wall
Scene Three
INT. Model reminiscent of the past, smiles at the present in hopes of the future
To paraphrase this excerpt, “It’s not easy being the only model with my looks backstage. You have no idea what that has put me through. Where are the girls that look like me? I’m literally the only one who looks like me and it sucks big time. Maybe there are other dark skin girls, I probably see them too but only very few of them from time to time. Let’s be real, this my particular shade? My country sisters? Zero.”
I read the excerpt and thought: I know my Nigerian sister Mayowa Nicholas grew to prominence around the same time. They didn’t catch each other? Oh my, how about my Sudanese cousin Duckie Thot? It’s only just a little confusing. But I don’t blame you. I blame the system. They make sure you’re so few (especially at a certain level) so you miss out on each other.
Minds alike, time sure tells
Scene four (the last scene)
INT. Veteran who sees beyond the smoke and mirrors
To paraphrase this excerpt, “It’s like that you’re in the mood for black today and tomorrow, you just aren’t. I’ve tried to get us here for a long time and I want us to be a part of the order of things. I often warn them. Whatever you do, don’t mess it up with a whim or some creative angle of yours.”
I read the excerpt and thought: Although her comment doesn’t speak directly to this cover alone, it’s very true of the “wave” as described by Edward Enninful, possibly just being a moment in time. Would you consider that a proper way to welcome and celebrate a people who have long been sidelined? I vote no.
If we have witnessed OGs like Alek Wek, one of the very few African models of the late 90s, spare no effort in breaking boundaries and dismantling stereotypes in the modelling industry on an international level, how did we end up back here? If you chronicle her life of countless interviews, recounting the lack of women as dark as she (specifically with Dinka features) when she started out in the late 1990s and the confirmations following years after that, “Now, there are so many South Sudanese girls working as models it is not a big deal…” — you would really stop to ask the question, how on earth did we end up back here? How did we end up in a time where Adut Akech is throwing out the same lines of Ms. Wek of decades ago?
Okay, let’s get back to the cover in itself.
So, the team finally decides on a cover — it’ll feature only African girls. The ones of African heritage, relocated in more recent times, extended across South Sudan and Nigeria. Once upon a time, African models were only appealing if they weren’t too African: relaxed hair, light complexion etc. As time has gone by, I suspect they view that African models are only appealing if they look very “stereotypically African”: very dark skin, large foreheads, plump lips, cropped natural hair etc.
The features which were once altered, disgraced or rejected are suddenly a representation of “beauty in Africa” neglecting that as a large continent, there’s a huge ethnic diversity. As Africans (and young models) have began to reclaim their confidence, gatekeepers want to pour sand in their garri and control everything i.e. telling them they look too pretty for the editorial (cue Chimmamanda Ngozi Adichie) or making them even darker than they naturally are (cue Adesua Etomi-Wellington).
This concept of darkening the skin of Africans in international magazines is a weird trend and this new cover is no different. In shooting dark or darker skinned models, the lighting, makeup, hair, camera calibration and ultimately, editing, often makes them appear darker and shinier (“some oil”) than they naturally are.
To press and hold the comparison button, you don’t see white people being given more light to their skins. Most are rather obsessed with tanning and looking more golden or brown, happily treading the thin lines of blackfishing.
Just because someone is African or more specifically, from Sudan, Kenya or Rwanda doesn’t mean they must have the shade you want or expect them to have. Some people have naturally darker skin tones, very similar to the edit in the cover but these girl aren’t them. Leave it like that. What’s up with policing the skin shade of Africans?
There’s this wild “Africa we want to see” mentality in the system that’s so prominent it even decides African models should be showcased as bald, on low cuts, cornrows and more recently, fros.
No shade to anyone celebrating the cover. It is laced with good intentions; highlighting young African models by celebrating their wins in the industry with a cover spread on one of the top magazines in the world.
But if you wish to pull no punches, knowing there’s a side of casting that’s long performative, you should know there’s a side of photography, photo editing and creative direction that is too, and this modern day scramble for Africa in the guise of representing “distinctive” African models depicts African people as stereotypes and portrays their skin as a product.
If the only editing aesthetic you can apply to African skin is jet-black, please keep it. It’s already bad enough we have to witness you mismatching foundations on our faces.
Don’t make us remember the dark past, that very one where we were presented and marketed to the world by you as what we weren’t.
