For the first time in its history, Ramadan and the act of fast-breaking have been officially incorporated into a London fashion week show, according to the British Fashion Council.
On Monday evening, 29-year-old British-Yemeni designer Kazna Asker deliberately paused her presentation at sunset to share iftar with the models, who were also fasting, as were the interns and many of the staff.
The presentation, titled Hour of the Sunset, was built around the rhythm of Ramadan – the ninth month of the Islamic calendar observed by Muslims worldwide. From dawn to dusk Muslims fast from food and distraction, with sunset being an “energy-shifting” moment, says Asker.
Programming this pause into one of the fashion industry’s most tightly scheduled weeks was deliberate. “As soon as I found out that fashion week would fall 1772045156, I had to incorporate it,” Asker says, speaking in her London studio. “This collection was built around the themes of Ramadan.”
Asker turned the British Fashion Council’s NewGen space, a platform designed to spotlight emerging British talent in fashion design, into a majlis, or Arab living room. Guests sat on floor cushions inspired by Asker’s grandmother’s lounge, where, in Yemeni households, meals are shared communally on the floor. For this reason, Asker says guests and staff sitting together in this arrangement was the “best way to break fast together”.
Halfway through the showcase, the instrumental Arab soundtrack lowered, lights dimmed and dates and cans of water were passed around in woven baskets. Sudanese-Australian writer Yassmin Abdel-Magied addressed the room, reading Mary Oliver’s poem The Sun, followed by a supplication to mark the breaking of the fast. The models stepped down from Persian-carpeted platforms and tables to break their fast.
The iftar menu included Iraqi dishes from Juma Kitchen, and Palestinian dates, designed to feed not only the team, but guests, most of whom were fasting. “It’s going to be wholesome celebrating together,” Asker said before the presentation.
Naailah Khalifa, a guest, agreed: “It’s nice to be in spaces like this one and not feel ‘othered’”, she said. “It makes me feel hopeful to know that work like hers [Asker’s] is happening, and that we, Muslims and people of colour, are not lost in the background.”
Models rotated across carpeted platforms wearing garments that blended tailored pieces with futuristic silhouettes and cultural Yemeni dress. Gold coin headpieces and face coverings framed the models, while henna-inspired body art by the collective HuqThat traced sun motifs across skin.
Asker also disrupted traditional gender codes. One female model wore a jambiya – the Yemeni dagger belt historically reserved for men – integrated into a structured power suit. “We decided to put the jambiya on a woman, to showcase the power of Muslim women,” she says. A male model’s imamah headwrap was threaded with sunset-coloured flowers, inspired by tribes along the Yemeni-Saudi border where grooms adorn their headwear.
As a student at Central Saint Martins, Asker was the first to send hijabi models down its runway for the 2022 MA showcase, a moment shaped, she says, by growing up in Sheffield without seeing modest fashion represented “in a cool way”.
The showcase marked the conclusion of the day and of her work with the British Fashion Council as part of the NewGen initative. “It’s the end of the day, and the end of this chapter in my life,” she says. “I did everything I’ve wanted to do, and don’t have any regrets.”
“LFW isn’t a single-format showcase. It’s a cultural platform designed to support how designers choose to express and show today,” says Laura Weir, CEO of the British Fashion Council, of the presentation.
Asker researched cultural dress across Egypt, Oman, Qatar, Zimbabwe and India, observing how Yemeni communities reinterpret tradition across borders. Scarves were sourced from a Yemeni market in Egypt; her grandmother, father and uncle contributed many of the fabrics used in the collection. “Almost everywhere I went, there was a Yemeni community,” she says. “You see how the country they’re in inspires and interprets their culture.”
“My community and I already know the spirit of Ramadan,” she says. “So it’s a blessing to invite people who don’t know what it’s about. I hope they’re immersed in what we feel.”
Asker is aware she might be framed as a political designer. “If you believe in community, then you should believe in politics,” she says. Her guiding principle is simple: “Build sideways, not upwards.”
An orange tree stood at the centre of the room, referencing the Persian folklore tale The Man Who Planted Trees, in which an elderly man plants trees for the next generation to eat from, knowing he will never eat its fruit. Asker saw the tale as an allegory for her time on the NewGen programme: “I was able to give it everything I had, and I hope it’s left an impact on the next generation of designers.”
