Maha ElJak's journey captured my attention through the Middle East GQ campaign 'Silent Rebellion,' directed by Taqwa Bint Ali. The campaign showcased hijabi skateboarders in innovative designs, offering a glimpse into Maha's navigation of modesty within an industry often critiqued for its obnoxious sexualisation.
Her work in Elle Magazine further intrigued me. 'Mahazine,' her creation, challenged conventions, representing the often unheard voices. In our conversation, Maha shared her insights on how she balanced identity and professional roles, stayed innovative, fostered inclusivity, and entered the fashion industry. Her commitment to carving out space for hijabis and African models served as the focal point of our discussion
PIctures by Jazzmin Nilsson
Make-up by Afra Osaretin
Production by Cheyenne Esajas
Creative direction by Indy Koele
Can you tell us about your background and journey in the fashion industry?
Seeing Halima Aden for the first time left me in awe. Seeing someone who looked like me walk for prestigious brands was a turning point that sparked my interest in fashion. Later I joined a London-based modeling agency that represented Muslim girls. But, I didn’t get any jobs, I was just dusting on their website.
A year later, I saw a casting call on Facebook by Elle Magazine and The Movement models. They were looking for people for their new Elle Trendbook. I quickly signed up, and went to the casting with two friends, and it went really well. The outcome? I secured my first modelling gig for Elle Magazine, a dream come true. Alongside another Muslim girl, now a close friend, and it went really well. They paid attention to our modesty, ensuring hijabs and coverage were perfect. That experience grew my passion for modelling, revealing a path I knew I wanted to pursue for a lifetime.
What inspired you to seek a profession in a creative direction?
From a young age, I've been drawn to creativity, enjoying crafting and making things. As I grew up, I opted for creative subjects in high school and now I'm enrolled in a creative course named Popular Culture. This course is attended by many creative minds, allowing us to delve into our creativity while also working on projects related to our studies.
In an industry that has historically lacked diversity and inclusivity, how do you navigate the challenges and contribute to creating a more inclusive fashion landscape?
I navigate challenges by consistently voicing my thoughts. The industry often encourages us to be grateful and conform to their expectations. I remember a photo shoot where they wanted me to wear a British scarf on my head, which I wasn't comfortable with. I stood my ground, even though it was risky. There was even a comment that speaking up wasn't a wise move, but that's part of the problem. If we don't set boundaries, we become tokens. There are times when you sense you're being used to fulfil a diversity quota. It's a tough decision, balancing personal comfort and financial gain. However, it's easier when you prioritize your comfort and voice your concerns.
Can you share a project or collection that you're particularly proud of? What was the inspiration behind it, and what challenges did you overcome during its development?
My best shoot was the GQ Middle East directed by Taqwa Bint Ali and photographed by Otman Qrita. They brought together Muslim girls who skateboarded from various countries, and it was incredible to be around people like me. The day was fantastic—the vibes, the people, everything was lovely, and the styling was top-notch. The shoot before that was one of my worst experiences ever. This shoot reminded me why I enjoy doing this.
Pictures by Jazzmin Nilsson
Make-up by Afra Osaretin
Production by Cheyenne Esajas
Creative direction by Indy Koele
Art often serves as a form of self-expression. How do you ensure that your creative direction resonates with a diverse range of individuals and cultures? / Diversity and representation are crucial in today's society. How do you integrate these values into your creative process and decision-making?
In my work, I always aim to bring together a team with diverse backgrounds, perspectives, and experiences. This approach helps us progress and learn from each other, resulting in work we're truly proud of. I apply this to photoshoots and even my zine, collaborating with different people to create authentic and relatable art for various cultures. It also makes the art more inclusive. A team with diverse backgrounds represents the kind of representation we need more of. I once worked for a client who emphasized diversity, yet there was only one black makeup artist. We need more representation both on and off-camera. It's important not just to be visible but also to open doors for others. Quality representation matters and that's why setting our own boundaries and not letting uninformed people dictate what we do or wear is crucial.
Where did you find inspiration for your Zine? Can you tell us a little more about the project?
In 2020, I released my self-published DIY Punk zine called "Mahazine." An independent zine with no sponsorship, ads, funding, or anything else, it gave me the freedom to shape it exactly how I wanted. To tell my story without restrictions. It wasn't always easy, as I literally paid for everything from my own pocket. I strongly believe in doing things yourself when the conventional path is challenging. The fact that I did everything myself, with no experience, is quite unique. It's a magazine for people like me who feel unrepresented, as well as for those who want a glimpse into my world.
There have been so many moments in my life when I was just a puppet for a brand or organization, and that feeling is horrible. I cut the strings and decided to create a zine to channel all my frustrations. Around that time, I bought my first zine from a feminist art collective called Pisswife. They inspired me to make a zine. The DIY ethos, the diverse stories, activism, and authenticity all appealed to me. That was the starting point for Mahazine. Mahazine is literally a reflection of myself in a booklet, and I'm very proud of that. My punk obsession wasn't always understood, as people felt it didn't match my appearance, even though punk has always existed in Black culture. This is one of the reasons I published my self-made DIY punk zine. It became a creative celebration of identity, uniqueness, and activism.
With this project, I hope to once again touch, inspire, and encourage people to become the best versions of themselves. Stories of people who look like me often don't get a platform, which can make them feel like they don't matter, or that things aren't possible when they actually are. I want to show that everything is possible. I always say: Don't wait for someone else to do it, just do it yourself! It would be amazing if Mahazine became a huge platform where everyone is seen and heard. A space for beautiful stories without judgment. My dream is to eventually help and spotlight creatives in Africa, giving them the means to explore their creativity and providing a platform. I also hope to collaborate with creatives from my homeland, Sudan, in the future. These are all ideas, but I'll do everything I can to make them a reality.
Have you encountered situations where your identity has influenced your creative decisions or the way you approach your role? How do you balance your personal experiences with your professional responsibilities?
As a Muslim, I've turned down job opportunities that clashed with my religion and beliefs. No amount of money is worth doing something I'd regret. I prioritize myself, asking deep questions and seeking guidance from family and friends when unsure. Sometimes I make choices I'm not thrilled with, but that's how we learn. We make mistakes, learn, and progress. Staying true to my roots and identity helps me create authentic work. But it's equally important to be a pleasant person to work with, a value I learned as I grew up.
The fashion industry is known for its fast-paced and dynamic nature. How do you approach staying innovative and keeping up with emerging changes?
I've let go of trying to keep up with all the changes and trends. Instead, I focus on doing what feels right for me and aligns with my beliefs. I believe that by staying true to myself, I naturally bring innovation into my work, allowing things to flow organically and align with their intended direction
As a role model for aspiring Black women in the fashion industry, what advice would you give to those who are looking to follow a similar career path and see you as a model?
Absolutely, I'd say patience, fearlessness, being unapologetic and self-promotion are key. I won't sugarcoat it—it's not always easy. When you're signed, you might expect constant bookings, but there can be times when months pass without any assignments. During those moments, insecurity and self-doubt can creep in. I've reached a point where I've even questioned if I'm truly a model. Patience is essential, and it's important l to remember that what's meant for you will come to you.
Edited by Adillah Mubiru
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