How did you get into working specifically in African fashion?

The idea came after I moved back from Cape Town, South Africa ten years ago. When anybody thinks of South Africa now, [they think of] Camp’s Bay and all these rich White areas. That has to be said.

I lived in Cape Town for one and a half years. I studied economics in Germany and then I went away. After I understood the whole system of economics, I decided I didn’t want to work in that field at all. But then I started working at my first (and last) job in economics in South Africa, my first nine-to-five job. I was just inspired by the lifestyle of being who you are and living the way you are and of course I was shocked by the whole system of apartheid. I didn’t know much. That’s what I do if I travel somewhere or live abroad, I don’t inform myself—I’m just trying to be a local. I had that advantage of being [seen as] a local in South Africa.

I came back to Germany and felt there was something missing inside of me. I had started a project with a Sudanese friend in Cape Town called CREEYATE, an art space with three floors with all the graphic and fashion designers on one floor, then music, then dance. We realized because of the apartheid system that if there is something in common, especially in the arts field, there at least isn’t straight racism. When we bring things together and do this kind of empowerment and anti-racism, sometimes it works to talk about people’s feelings through art. The project didn’t work out but I still had the idea in mind when I returned to Germany.

I thought of starting it up again, because I had met so many photographers, designers, fashion designers, dancers, and musicians—so many amazing and really unique artists. Of course they were not in Germany so my idea was to start an art cafe with pictures from the photographers (what you’d call a concept store now) and create a space for an exchange program for the dancers, musicians, and all the other talented artists out there. I [strive to be] a truly intersectional curator.

A friend in Mannheim had a bike store, a Berlin kind of bike store, in a backyard. In Mannheim this is unique. He wanted to create a community in a different way. After two years he said, ‘Asmaa, I’ve been listening to your stories and your dreams all this time. When are you going to start?’ All these entrepreneurial fears came up. ‘I don’t know how to start.’ He said, ‘Listen, I’ll give you this corner and you can do whatever you want with it.’ ‘Okay, I’m going to start with fashion.’ That’s how it started. I got in touch with friends from South Africa who recommended other designers to me, and they sent me look books. I thought, ‘Okay, what do I like?’—because this is what I can sell best. What would be interesting for the European [segment]? A mix of African and European ways not for White people, but rather for people of the diaspora who identify themselves as African even more, especially with fashion.

I was speaking about Sboutiful at startup events and symposiums and realized that fashion or clothing really does something to you. For example, if someone wears a suit or high heels, the whole body language changes. You actually straighten your posture and feel more confident—in your skin and in your thing. If you get the courage of self-love through what you wear, then why not create your own style, hopefully with items from Sboutiful?

I like to play around with this—that’s how I got into the whole process. I started using only fashion—what fashion has to do with your self—and going even deeper. Let’s say you have African [heritage] or are of African descent—this is about loving and respecting your heritage and showing it through your own individual style. We can go deeper and say [that with fashion] you position yourself as a Black person and you are proud of it. So the [styling] process goes through the whole statement, inside out actually.

So taking control of your identity and expressing it and truly being seen the way you want to be seen. Yes.

That came through making certain designers available in Mannheim, which is not the most diverse city—or is it?

I worked on a project that ran for two years called the Mannheim World Heritage. Actually in a city with 360,000 inhabitants, we have 172 nations. It is a very diverse city, but one unfortunately owned by White people who call it ‘diverse’ but are not ready to make space for us—hence the projects and curation I initiate. This is going to change!

Why is Mannheim so diverse?

That is a damn good question. The elite University of Mannheim with the [high-ranked] Economics studies and the Pop Academy Baden-Württemberg, the first and only public university where you can study pop music in Germany, are there. It is also very close to Strasbourg, France. Next door in Ludwigshafen there are a lot of African diasporic people or Africans in general but it is in another state. We have the states Baden-Württemberg, Rheinland-Pfalz, and Hessen, and we are in the middle so that is one mixing point. Mannheim also has a history of working class immigrants. Ludwigshafen has BASF, the biggest chemical city in the world and most people working there live in Mannheim or in Ludwigshafen.

Sboutiful evolved from a physical space within a concept store into a pop-up concept that you travel around with. Where was the last place you brought it?

Before I started working with fashion, I was freelancing in the cultural field, project leading for different cultural institutions. I had a pop-up store for one year at the bike store in Mannheim and one year at be’kech in Berlin, then I started to do pop-up stores. This was free advertising or marketing for me. People were introduced to what Sboutiful is and what is special about it. It’s fair trade, sustainable, and made locally by African designers. It’s unique. It’s Afrotopia; it’s Afropunk; it’s me and it’s us. 

My customers are mostly White so that is different than what I wanted from the beginning. But everyone who buys something from Sboutiful gets an explanation. I’m not just telling the story of the designer; you learn that you’re buying from a Black African who is making things by hand in a sustainable way. I’m also creating an awareness of the creative scene in Africa because a lot of people don’t know about it or don’t want to think about it. Some people have never been there but [still] have this picture of Africa. And it is not a country—it is a continent. So Sboutiful is all of those things combined with buying an item.

Is your next chapter connected to Sboutiful?

Yes. Thierno Diallo is an artist in Berlin from West Africa, Guinea-Conakry and his label is Wear Fula. He went into be’kech because he saw the Sboutiful pop-up there and Louna introduced us. Now we’re collaborating. He has an amazing vision. He says about fabrics:

‘I really don’t like prints with the colonized background, Holland and stuff. In West Africa, we have this tradition especially in textiles such as Leppi in Guinea, Bogolan in Mali, and Faso Dan Fani in Burkina Faso. These fabrics are specifically woven by women; they are made out of narrow strips that have been sewn together. Bogolan, Leppi, and Faso Dan Fani have magical qualities. They absorb dangerous mystical forces and provide protection from bad spirits. Not only that but we make the cotton ourselves: growing it, selecting it, spinning and weaving it—the whole process. We also weave meaningful symbols into the patterns.’

I think this is so important because through colonialism, [these traditions] were destroyed or forgotten in the diaspora and in Europe. Thierno is so into it, he is doing all of this research. He is an architect and as far as I understand it, this project is also about architecture and [these] symbols. We plan to combine these elements in a future collection.

It’s something new for both of us. I’ve done a clothing collection before with my mom in Morocco. That was really good because my mom loves fashion, and she especially loves designing and sewing. But for him and me, it’s our first time doing this kind of idea and in a new country too. Everything will be produced in Dakar. Initially, our mission was to find a production house, a collective of women who are sewing whom we pay fairly—which is absolutely normal—and create something new.

Update: Now Dakar is our hub where the textiles from Mali, Ghana, Burkina Faso and Guinea-Conakry arrive and will be tailored by the most amazingly talented Kalipe of Jakk Streetwear.

Will the clothing line be women’s wear or for all genders?

All genders. I know many people who’ve been working for twenty years in the fashion industry. These friends are my vitamin B. I can talk to them and ask, ‘Hey, do you think this cut will be cool over the next years?’ I’m not a fan of seasons or genders or size. I am done with S, M, L. Come on! Wear it and wear it with attitude (or body language) and pride and you can wear all kinds of sizes. So it’s going to be one size and definitely oversized. With some small [adjustments] you can make it suitable for your body. It’s going to be Afropolitan and Afrofuturistic—this kind of style—and Afropunk is my vision for this first collection.