Against the grain: A fashion subculture in Afghanistan

With all the talk around the death of subcultures, the loss of real individual style, and fashion’s existential crisis as capitalism’s favourite child, we’re in some ways at an impasse in taste, unsure if our self-expression is actually real or just another fleeting core, a turn of phrase on our FYP. Looking outside our globalised echo chambers and frenzied self-conscious (maybe even self-indulgent) digital discourses for a moment, this isn’t so true, especially not in Afghanistan. 

Originally published in Dazed MENA Issue 00 | Order Here

Where, in a little village tucked away in the Northeast’s gaping valleys and peaks is a group of boys ardently using fashion as a stamp of their self-expression. Photographed by Afghan LA-based visual artist Daniel Malikyar, who followed the gossip about men wearing eyeliner and decorated pakol hats right to the source. “With each new area we walked through, more of the boys appeared – each with their own unique aura,” he explains. “Every outfit was completely customised in the village – from the hats embellished with butterflies, flowers and incense to the stitching on the paran (shirt), to the cut of the tumbon (pants), to the custom dismols (scarves). Some carried Bluetooth speakers that they embellished with jewels and played the same one or two Pashto songs they had access to on repeat.” 

When Daniel spoke with the village seniors for their takes on the boys’ style, their answers were refreshingly unbothered. Rather than critiquing, they recognised the youth’s expression as descendant of the individual style that has always existed in their village, a “style that they like which has evolved over time.” This intergenerational embrace of panache finds resonance in Afghanistan, where romance is an axis upon which culture spins. 

In this way, we cannot forget that fashion is not a product or a core, an aesthetic rank you fall into, nor a mirror of society; it’s a shared lingua franca that everyone speaks –and it is intrinsic rather than learned. That is why scenes flourish far beyond the cosmopolite trends that will last for about 5 minutes before they are seen off to the landfill (only to be brought back as a stylistic nostalgia craze 10 years later). For Afghan boys, personal style, no matter what form it takes, is a constant.

Originally published in Dazed MENA Issue 00 | Order Here