A Second Skin of My Own
Written by Iman Hassan, BA Politics and International Relations.
Parishae Adnan closed the Flying Solo section at New York Fashion Week with her collection, Second Skin, which reconstructed old menswear and deadstock for the female body. What stayed with me was the idea of taking something inherited and reshaping it to make it your own. I have spent much of my life trying to do the same with different parts of my identity: Pakistani culture, British culture, and Islam.
Her collection made me think about how I can prioritise my religion without allowing it to erase my personal style. I like to think that I inherited much of my style from my mother: embroidered kurtis, chunky silver ring stacks, and statement necklaces. When I wear traditional clothing in the UK, I feel more connected to my Pakistani identity, but sometimes distant from my British one. If I dress more traditionally, I worry I am trying too hard to prove I am Pakistani enough, and if I dress more Western, I can feel as though I am distancing myself from it. I have slowly realised that my identity is not a choice between cultures, but something shaped by living between them.
Putting on the hijab in my late teens added another layer to navigate. Suddenly I was visibly Muslim in a Western country, and one part of my identity could be read before people knew anything else about me. With that came a pressure to be a ‘perfect’ Muslim because my faith was now visible. And alongside that, fashion began to feel more loaded.
I noticed this most in the way modesty was interpreted. In Western fashion, layering, loose tailoring and maxi skirts can be described as minimal, elegant, or timeless. On a visibly Muslim woman, however, similar choices can be read first through assumptions about restriction, family pressure, or religion. Personal style is easily overlooked. Muslim women are often denied the same neutrality others are given, and the hijab becomes a shortcut people use to understand an entire personality. Why does one visible part of my identity have to explain all the others?
"My identity is not a choice between cultures, but something shaped by living between them."
The divide between ‘traditional’ and ‘Western’ has never been as clear-cut as it seems. Pakistani fashion was already negotiated by both in the 1960s and 1970s, when designers reworked the shalwar kameez into a symbol of urban style and national identity. Mixing influences does not make me less Pakistani; it is something Pakistani fashion has always done.
Now entering my twenties, I have become more comfortable experimenting with style while remaining committed to modesty and religion. I am less interested in trying to prove I am Muslim enough, Pakistani enough, or Western enough. My personal style has become less about meeting external standards and more about creating what feels right for me.
For me, Second Skin reflects the identities we inherit and gradually reshape to fit who we are becoming.
