Harper’s Bazaar Saudi’s Contributing Fashion Editor charts the industry’s evolution from a longtime insider’s perspective

Finally! Saudi fashion has its very own international platform to rightfully place us on the map.

We always had the consumer. You would often meet her shopping at Harrods, or catch a glimpse of her strolling along the pier in Puerto Banús. And, of course, we always had the talent, too. It was a little harder to notice though, as it was often regulated to international advertorials afforded only by the affluent designer, or the one-off female empowerment piece that was sure- re clickbait for the 30 million locals; most of whom are under 30 and continue to have a millennial addiction to their phones.

The truth is that even our local fashion scene was reserved for under the abaya (so much so, that I even wrote two books about it), or a private hotel suite with female-only attendance and a strict no-photography policy. But – finally – that is no longer the case. Rewind to a few months ago, when my company was hosting an IG Live fashion show for a Saudi brand. Gorgeous evening gowns accessorised with unmistakable hints of décolleté and jutting collar bones sashayed down the runway, in front of an audience of some of the region’s most powerful fashion influencers – standing in stark contrast to the private shows of the past. This time, our success was measured in how many views it got.

Shattering stereotypes in Under The Abaya

The infamous black marker that graced all fashion covers growing up is now nowhere to be found. Instead, we are adhering to a smart, sophisticated, stylish, yet modest decorum the same way we always have, but was once considered too taboo to show publicly. For an outsider, it may be difficult to understand the dichotomy of our past. It was a time when any tall girl who didn’t mind being on social media was the default model; where showrooms didn’t exist because international visas were too difficult to make it financially feasible for any serious entrepreneur.

Rewind ten years to when I started my company and had to fly to the neighbouring Emirates to convince a luxury brand to take a chance on what was then the first-ever bespoke, female-centric communications firm in Saudi. Thankfully, they did, albeit in the traditional form of a VIP trunk show in a private palace hosted by a private princess. But then fast forward to last year, when that very same brand flew in a host of international models to grace a Riyadh runway. Additionally surprising; the models and audience were of both genders. Post show, the all-Saudi backstage crew thanked us for giving them the opportunity to work on international talents in Saudi for the first time.

A shot from Marriam’s pioneering book, Under The Abaya

What has changed is our willingness to welcome the outside world into our one. To show them what previously only we had been privy to. Today, we are able to own it. It’s hard not to be overly proud of what has been achieved over the last few years. The nationalism seen in Saudi isn’t fake news. It’s years of being kept private, inaccessible, to now finally coming out and telling the world we exist. Here is our aesthetic. Here is our talent. Here is our debut to the international fashion scene.

This open invitation into our society and customs can sometimes seem unbelievable, even to us Saudis living within the Kingdom. Yet this isn’t a PR stunt. I can say this as it’s clear we are no longer interested in outside judgement, anyway – we’re too busy fitting into our new public roles. What we want to see now are not token gestures from international companies, or brands wanting to ride the hems of our brightly coloured abayas, but rather genuine investment and an authentic desire to want to be part of this era of growth. Saudi has entered into its own renaissance. One that its citizens can’t help but be overwhelmingly grateful and proud of.

An image of Amirah Turkistany cycling from Marriam’s first Under The Abaya book

You may wonder if every column I write will seem like an emotional purge ripped from a page of a 15-year-old’s diary. I can assure you, it will not. But my 15-year-old self would never believe this. And as I write my last words for the first-ever issue of Harper’s Bazaar Saudi, I can’t help but to repeatedly read the words aloud to myself: “Saudi.” Not an overarching Arabia edition, but something that is made truly for us. Something we can proudly call our own. A magazine that represents the cultural significance and innovative creativity coming from the Kingdom, while still being able to withstand the scrutiny of an international lens. My eyes can’t help but well up. After a 16-year career in fashion journalism, I understand all-too well the significance of this venture, and I am honoured to be a part of it.

Images courtesy of the author, Manal AlKholidan and Lina Q. From Harper’s Bazaar Saudi March 2021 issue 

You can also catch up on the latest issue of Harper’s Bazaar Arabia for free by downloading the app on the Apple or Google Play store.