Fashion Sits Lowest

How many times do you think I can start my writing by telling you how Morocco is a “crossroads between cultures?” You'd be surprised; why don't you go back and count? And it's true, too. Then again, in this era of globalization, pretty much everywhere is a crossroads between cultures, but in Morocco, it's especially true. And, as in every other part of the world, it's a struggle between modernity and traditionalism, and it's literally tearing the country apart. It's the core of every major issue: if I should stay in school or drop out, if I should give my daughters the same freedoms as my sons, and if I should wear pants today.

Moroccan fashion falls squarely into these two categories, and it's usually a good measure for drawing all sorts of other snap judgments. Is this person old or young? Cosmopolitan or country-fried? Angst-ridden or comfortable in their personal awkwardness? Let's now take a little look at Moroccan fashion so that you, too, can tell the difference between modern and traditional as well as I can.

Traditional Moroccan clothing is epitomized in the jellaba. We've already talked about the jellaba's greatest contribution to human history – inspiring the Jedi robe – but there's more to it than that. In case you've been living under a rock these last two years, you know that a jellaba is a robe-like piece of clothing with a signature-style hood. It has two slits on the sides, which aren't pockets but allow for accessing any pockets you might be wearing underneath. Other than that, everything is variable. Fabric can be as simple as thick, monochromatic winter wool or as fantastic as pink and black velvet tiger stripes. Most have some embroidering along the cuffs and down the front made from a special kind of button (which can also be a popular jewelry item in itself), and a few luxury models come with a tassel that, in its spare time, doubles as a decoration for fancy curtain rods.

Jellabas a great for pretty much anything. Moroccan women – those who are more conservative, especially if they're married – won't be seen in the streets without one. My host mom and sister, even if they're just going down the street to the corner store, will either toss on a jellaba or tell one of my brothers to go. It's perfect for a quick run outside, though. It takes a moment to put one on, and it's guaranteed to look better than whatever you have on underneath. If college students ever found out about it, we'd have to call it the Jedi Academy.

And in the winter, a jellaba is big enough that you can always toss it on top of whatever you've already got on. That's particularly useful here in Freedonia, especially now that I've recently learned that I live only about 25 kilometers away from the lowest ever recorded temperature in Africa. Around here, folks like to toss on a second jellaba.

But as cool as a jellaba is, it's not really formal attire. I mean, I've certainly worn one as such, but, to be fair, it's really only business casual at best. When it's time to get dressed up, dudes who know go with jabbadors. A jabbador is pretty much just like what it sounds: an ornate, usually linen, long-sleeved shirt and embroidered pants of the same material. For really special occasions you can toss on a cloak-like outer layer, and some people wear varieties of hats and turbans, though I've been told that's not necessary. The only required accessory is the bilgha (which are worn with jellabas, too).

To be honest, though, formal Moroccan wear is very much like formal American wear, which is to say that the guys tend to get the minimalist end of the stick. Sure, you can tell a fancy jabbador from a bargain basement model, but, at the party, no one's going to notice. Why not? Because, just like at your homecoming semi-formal, the subtle class of your vintage suspenders don't stand a chance in a room full of day-glo taffeta, that's why. I'm talking about kaftans, Morocco's nuclear response to the prom dress.

There's no such thing as a subtle kaftan; they all range from “moderate” to “chiffon explosion” (which usually aren't even kaftans, they're takshetas, also called kaftans plus an extra aura-like layer of elaborate gauze). That's not a really great surprise, though, since they aren't worn except for weddings and other big events. And it's not only the bride who wears one, and hers isn't even necessarily the nicest there. The difference, though, is that she doesn't have to wear only one, and will spend the whole night disappearing into the darkness only to reemerge in a colorful new gown – like a butterfly, with many changes of clothes.

There are other traditional styles of clothing in Morocco, too, generally unique to specific regions. For example, as you go south and deeper into the desert (and Africa) you'll find women wearing the very iconic lizar. “Lizar” means “sheet,” and that's pretty much what it is, a sheet that you wrap yourself in, which serves to both keep you cooler by creating a pocket of air around you, and to completely obscure any shapeliness you may or may not have. And in the northern Rif mountains – if you're lucky – you can find the most incredible hat in the world. It's uncertain whether the Rif hat was first modeled off a lampshade (or vice versa), but this tall, colorful headgear not only protects you from the harsh sun, but it's also an important safety measure, allowing mountain travelers to be seen from great distances. And there's a popular trend in wearing traditional clothes from the Middle East. These include the abaiya, a white gown worn (here) by particularly religious men, and the black robes made popular by Syrian and Saudi soap opera actresses and decorated with the pirated logos of Coco Chanel in metallic silver thread.

None of these, however, are worn by the Shebab, the hip youth of Morocco. To really be down with the youth development, you have to know about the G Star. Before we go any further let me make it absolutely clear just what I mean by “G Star.” In this context it means not only the brand ,but also the lifestyle, which means that you could be – and often are – wearing Diesel, Armani, Versace, or Takeshy Kurosawa (whoever that is) brand clothing, and it would still be “G Star,” provided, of course, that it's raw enough to uphold the G Honor. Furthermore, it's possible to be wearing actual G Star line clothing that isn't actually G Enough. This is particularly true in America, where, I'm told, G Star has become a mainstream brand.

So what is it that makes G Star “G Star,” and everything else just clothes? How do you describe the beauty of a rose, or the awesomeness of rocket blasting into space? Usually, you don't; you take a picture and let that do the talking for you. Fortunately, I've largely done that here, too, and, though it will be impossible for you to appreciate G Star without having a visceral and deeply religious experience with it of your own, but that shouldn't stop us from discussing its glories while you explore.

When you see G Star, the first thing that hits you – literally – is color. G Star is not afraid to declare that hot pink is the new pink, and that pink is the new everything else. Quality G Star should not only keep you hip on a warm summer night, it also should keep you safe when you have to walk home at the end. If it isn't lime green or imperial purple or neon pink (or all of the above), it isn't worth wearing.

But it's so much more than just a creative re-imagining of the color wheel. When we lived in America, we had this idea that pants were just that, pants. But the truth is, pants are a tapestry. You can hide your shame with denim, or you can hide your shame with denim, extraneous buttons and rivets, zippers that don't open onto anything, and the Wrath of Bedazzler. They shouldn't be worn, but painted on, and if you still need a belt, make sure it's big, shiny, and has something on it that spins. The same goes for your shirts. Don't just make a shirt, give it a border of unnecessary thread. Put a picture on it, make it awesome, and then make it velvet. And whatever you need to say, it's always better when you say it with rhinestones.

The defining quality, however, as in all movements, is in the message, and G Star is a message from the future. Like the Qur'an, it includes verses that were never meant to be understood by man. Other times, quite the opposite. Consider the following passage from “Freshness:”

The stare or quahty of being tresh. 2.New or clean, 3. Of produce, not from storage 4. Refreshing or cool. 5. Without salt (ospecially of water). 6. Rude, cheeky, cr inappropriate. 7. Very clean, and trendy looking graments, clothes, shoes, accessoires. 8. (Militsry) Rested and ready to engage with the enemy immediately

Whether it be subversive like “For Armani Those about to Rock,” which has a secret message of “dont evver obey” hidden under sequins, or poetic to the tune of “Real Eyes / Real Lies / Real Lize,” there is no G Star that does not evoke a greater understanding of reality. “Cool Wheel Deals Ice Iceberg.” Think about it.

Unfortunately, however, it is in the pursuit of this message that so many would-be G Acolytes fall. The point, though, is not something hipsters would wear ironically to some coffee shop where they talk about their feelings. G Star is something rockstars wear to meet their commander in chief. That should be the guiding rule. “Born to Dance” is not G Star; it's a bumper sticker – unless it's got one hell of an accessorization.

And when in doubt, just remember what G Star told you: “On the waist, fashion sits lowest.”