Transcriber: Els De Keyser Reviewer: Christel Foncke
I'm a fashion designer.
I have a brand called Azira
and a shop in the Dansaert neighbourhood in Brussels.
I design clothing for the modern and European moslima
that needs clothes to fit her ethics
and also her needs as an active woman.
I do all of this around one core value,
which is respect.
Respect for differences, for individual choices,
for the environment, for labour etc.
But that's actually not what got me here.
What got me here are two things:
one is that my store is just one block away
from the Walviscafé in the Dansaert neighbourhood,
and the other thing that got me here is stereotypes.
People have two different visions of muslim women,
two different visions that are mutually exclusive and opposite to each other.
One of those visions is the perfect example of integration:
a modern woman that takes part in society,
fully integrated, self-conscious etc.
The other vision is the devoted and subjugated moslima
that wears a veil and keeps a very neat household.
I was having a drink at the Walvis one day
with Bart Becks and Bruno, organiser of this event,
when Bruno got fascinated about the fact
that I fitted within those two stereotypes at the same time,
being a devoted moslima that used to wear the hijab
for 25 years, and on the other side being a fashion designer
that has her own brand and a store in the Dansaert neighbourhood.
So what I want to do today
is to break down those stereotypes
and show you that they are fake.
I want to show you two pictures.
This is Karema.
She is a graphic designer.
She works for a huge political party in Brussels
but she is also an islamic theology student.
The other picture is Sakina.
It's the other stereotype of the devoted housewife
who actually studied communication and marketing
and is travelling the globe as an event manager.
So the way I want to break down those stereotypes,
is by telling you my own story,
going back 25 years, when I was 15 and decided,
as every teenager does, to express my identity.
I did that by wearing a veil, at that point.
Back then, in the eighties, it was technically still possible
to wear a veil at school,
which isn't the case any more today.
But the atmosphere at school
and the fact that other students and teachers
rejected that expression of my identity,
made my finally quit school and stay at home,
no matter how much I liked going to school
and no matter how good my grades were,
I just got tired of crying myself to sleep at night
and I ended up staying at home.
After a couple of years staying home,
I ended up married at 18,
becoming this perfect little housewife,
keeping a very neat household
and expressing my creativity through
nothing but interior decorating, cooking and sewing my own clothes.
Doing that for a couple of years
and not being able to bear it any more,
and wanting to get out there,
I decided first to go to islamic school
because that was the only place
where I could learn things and at the same time
feel welcome and feel at home,
not feel rejected for who I was.
And that was a huge eye-opener for me,
because that gave me the confidence I needed
to go out there and do the things
that I really liked to do,
like going to art academy,
and also starting to look for a job.
I got my first job interview
with the father of a new-born [baby]
telling me that they were looking for an English-speaking nanny for their son,
and asking me if I spoke English.
I answered him that I didn't know.
He said, "That's very original, usually you know
whether you speak a language or not."
I told him that during all those years that I was playing housewife,
I watched a lot of TV.
"I know that by now I understand English
and I think I speak English, but I never tried."
So he said, "Let's try."
And that's how I became a nanny. (Laughter)
A couple of years later I started working in the sociocultural sector
for an NGO called 'School Without Racism'.
Working in that sector gave me the drive I needed
to go back to school and get my high school diploma
a couple of years later.
But never made it to university,
because that's when I got sick.
So being sick kept me in bed and in and out of hospital
for over 2 years.
After a while I started thinking: what is there that I could still do?
What is there that I can do
with my creativity, my skills and the things I've learned
while I'm still here?
There must be a way that I can contribute,
something I can do.
That's when I came up with the project for the brand.
Because during all those working years
I was designing and making my own clothes,
which would fit my ethical needs
and at the same time be modern
and fashionable enough to be accepted as a working woman.
Many women would come to me
and tell me that they would love to find that kind of clothes on the market
and they would definitely buy them if they were available.
What they really needed -- their needs were the same as mine:
clothes that would fit their ethics
but be modern and fashionable
and be Western European clothing,
which would fit their culture also.
Modesty requirements,
the basic rules are three.
The first main rule is that the whole body has to be covered,
except face and hands,
the second one is that it doesn't follow the shape of the body
and, the third one, not be transparent.
We have a couple more rules,
but they differ from one islamic school to another,
which means from one region to another.
Basically, every muslim woman that chooses to follow those ethics,
picks out those that are the most accurate for her.
As I decided that I wanted to do that,
I thought, "First things first, I have to get professional training."
Because I love designing and making clothes
and I did that for a couple of years,
but I wanted a professional training,
tried to get into fashion schools,
tried many of them and got systematically refused by all of them.
The director of one of those schools
even said that he didn't believe
that religion and art could coexist in the same person.
I wonder if this director has ever heard of Michelangelo
or has ever been to art school for that matter.
So I ended up going to Syntra,
a place where they teach you basic skills.
I just started for a couple of months
when I decided I didn't want to waste any more time
and I launched the brand.
I designed a first collection,
got the funds I needed to make a production
and started selling through fashion shows
and private sales at home.
When I saw the huge feedback
and the huge demand that there was,
that's when I started looking for a shop.
When I found the shop that I run, in the Dansaert neighbourhood,
I heard that the house owner said that he only wanted --
he was looking for someone that was a 'Belgo-Belgian', white person,
who was Flemish,
and he also wanted to have something nice,
like Christophe Coppens, next door,
where Princess Mathilde would come
and buy her hats. (Laughter)
So having heard that, what I did is,
I put a friend of mine, a white guy, blue eyes,
in the Company Articles, to go sign the contract.
After that, I never met the house owner.
For years, I've never seen him.
First time I've seen him was last september,
the day after Princess Mathilde visited my shop.
He said, "I tried to come in yesterday,
but I couldn't, because the police wouldn't let me in.
They had blocked the whole street.
Those are just a couple of anecdotes
about my whole journey.
As you can see, throughout my journey
I've been travelling back and forth
through those two stereotypes,
most of the time integrating both of them at the same time.
That journey is what brought me here,
knowing what I stand for,
what I want, what I want to achieve,
and what I want to fight for.
Through those two years now that I have the brand,
this project started to take more form.
I realised that the message of the brand,
which now reaches only a few women every day,
through that one local shop,
is a universal message.
It's a message of respect for differences.
It's a message of respect for individual choices.
It's a message of respect for nature and for labour
because I integrate all of those aspects in what I do.
That's why I decided
to build a global community platform
to give all the women that want to oppose these 2 stereotypes,
a voice through this project
and that this project would be something that unites everyone
who stands for the same thing.
The reason I want to do this, is because stereotypes and stigmatisation
can be very dangerous and lethal.
A couple of weeks ago,
this 17 year old black boy
got shot just for wearing a hoodie and sunglasses
while there was no sun shining -- [that] made him a suspect.
Last week, also in the United States, in Los Angeles,
a 32 year old woman, called Shaima,
was beaten to death.
She was the perfect model of integration,
except she was wearing the veil, and that was her sole crime.
My message is that respect comes with responsibility.
That's our responsibility.
Because, as one of my favourite writers puts it, Amin Maalouf,
"It's our look that often confines others
to their most narrow affiliation,
and it is our look as well
that can liberate them."
Thank you.
(Applause)