Designers of Modest Fashion: Six Creative Voices and the Ideas Behind Their Clothes

A designer of modest clothing might begin with the sensation of cloth against the body, a love of streetwear graphics, an occasion she cannot dress for or the possibilities within an abaya’s familiar outline. Looking at those starting points helps explain why clothes designed with coverage in mind can have such different personalities.

The six women explored here offer different ways into that creative work: Hana Tajima, Sarah Elenany, Iman Aldebe, Nzinga Knight, Faiza Bouguessa and Rabia Zargarpur. Their own interviews help explain the ideas behind their clothes, including the relationship between faith, upbringing, personal taste and the people they wanted to dress.

These are selected examples, with dates attached to the accounts. Together they give you a way to understand a collection more closely, recognise the contribution of its designer and decide which ideas connect with your own interests. There is room to appreciate a designer’s work while making different choices about what you wear.

Hana Tajima: the experience of wearing the clothes

British-Japanese designer Hana Tajima described a striking childhood memory in her 2016 interview with Ted Stansfield for Dazed: wearing a kimono that her grandfather had brought for her mother. What stayed with her was the experience of wearing it. She connected her design ambition to that remembered feeling, explaining that beauty could be something a person experiences inwardly.

The profile connects this interest with her upbringing in Devon, where both parents were artists, and with her earlier womenswear label, MAYSAA. Her answers also placed personal choice at the centre of the conversation about hijab. She described her own experience of beginning to cover and argued for women’s freedom to make their own decisions about dress. Read together, these comments suggest a design philosophy attentive to the person inside the clothes. They do not offer a rule about how another woman should look or feel.

A simple piece of cloth can invite complex design

In her conversation with Léopold Lambert, published as a Funambulist interview excerpt in 2016, Tajima explained how experimentation with scraps could lead to scarf designs. Working with cloth around a rounded head taught her things that a flat drawing could not. She also described the wearer’s actions as part of creating the final arrangement.

She distinguished the possibilities of jersey from those of more structured cloth and stressed the importance of how fabric feels against the face. That is a useful way to recognise a form of design that can be easy to overlook. The contribution may lie in how a piece invites handling, where it folds or what becomes possible when it is arranged differently. A plain surface can still contain careful thought.

When you encounter this kind of work, look for the relationship between the designer’s intention and the wearer’s participation. Some garments arrive with a strongly fixed shape; others leave more to the person dressing. Appreciating that difference adds another dimension to the question of what makes a piece distinctive.

Sarah Elenany: graphics, city life and a practical brief

Sarah Elenany approached clothing through her training in engineering product design. In Terry Ramsey’s 2009 interview for The National, she explained her frustration with finding clothes that combined the coverage she wanted with the urban style she enjoyed. The early range described in the report included hoodie dresses, loose trousers and a raincoat designed with headscarf coverage in mind.

Graphics were central to the collection. Elenany discussed drawings referencing raised hands in supplication and a hand gesture associated with the declaration of faith. She wanted the clothes to communicate with Muslim customers while remaining visually appealing to people who read the images differently.

The example shows how a design can work at several levels. Its shape answers a clothing need; its graphic carries a reference; its overall appearance belongs to a particular creative world. Understanding one level does not require every wearer to have an identical relationship with the others.

Inspiration can be playful and purposeful

In Katie Treggiden’s 2012 interview following a V&A Salon Talk, Elenany described collecting small sketches, colours and fabric references before developing a collection. She mentioned a cape inspired by the animated film Princess Mononoke. She also explained how her British upbringing and consciously chosen Palestinian references entered her work in different ways.

Her account makes room for several influences within one designer’s practice. She described herself as analytical, looking for a reason behind a design and a problem it could resolve. Cultural identity need not appear only through a traditional garment, and practical design need not exclude imaginative references.

For a reader interested in developing personal style, the useful lesson is to notice what attracts you specifically. It might be the wit of a print, the familiarity of a cultural reference or the way a design solves a recurring clothing problem. Naming that attraction helps you move beyond a general impression that a collection is simply fashionable.

Iman Aldebe: a recognisable voice in headwear

Swedish designer Iman Aldebe told Radio Sweden in April 2015 that she had studied design at school and begun making clothes for friends’ graduations and weddings. Her interest in head coverings developed within that work. In the interview, she also described the difficulty she felt Muslim women encountered when their appearance dominated other people’s perception of them.

Keep that account connected to its speaker and time. It explains part of her motivation as a designer; it cannot establish what every Swedish Muslim woman experienced or what a particular garment will change for its wearer.

It does raise an interesting creative question: what would you want people to notice about your clothes? Colour, artistry, a professional identity, a cultural connection and religious observance may all matter, in different combinations. A designer can offer possibilities without determining the answer for everyone.

From styling requests to a finished piece

In Franka Soeria’s 2015 interview, Aldebe traced her turban work to readers asking how she styled her head coverings. She described developing finished turbans that could be put on, as well as the unexpected demands of making them by hand for a growing audience. The account connects a recognisable personal style with a specific product idea.

Her wider clothing brief was also specific: she described an eighteen-look collection developed in 2011 with active working women in mind. Aldebe also spoke about learning from criticism during the Swedish edition of Project Runway. Her description treats a creative voice as something developed through experience, feedback and continued work.

For anyone enjoying fashion from outside the studio, that is a useful reminder to look beyond a designer’s most recognisable image. Ask what changed between an early experiment and a finished collection. The result may appear immediate in a photograph, while the maker’s account reveals decisions that took considerably longer to resolve.

Nzinga Knight: occasionwear with a personal starting point

Brooklyn designer Nzinga Knight’s early work included a solution to a familiar occasionwear problem: she needed a gown for a wedding and could not find one that suited both her taste and her modesty preferences. Katie Warren’s 2018 interview for The Bridge traces that personal beginning alongside Knight’s training at Pratt Institute and her interest in eveningwear shapes and fabrics.

The interview also describes a student project that encouraged Knight to explore another culture through design. She connected the resulting work with her own experience of bringing Caribbean family life, New York surroundings and Muslim faith together. One illustrated design, the Twareg, combined a silk-jersey dress with a shawl that could serve as a head covering.

Her account offers a more specific understanding of creative identity than a broad geographical label. A designer can draw on several relationships at once. The relevant question is how she explains those connections and what she does with them in the work, while keeping the distinction between her interpretation and the culture that inspired it.

Glamour can have several meanings

In Courtney Brooks’s 2012 interview for RFE/RL, Knight described wanting women to experience glamour, confidence and comfort in her clothes. The report discussed brightly coloured dresses shown at New York Fashion Week, and Knight explained that customers could approach the clothing from different faith backgrounds.

The report also described some dresses as closely shaped to the body. That detail matters: a designer’s use of the word modest does not establish that every garment meets every wearer’s preferences. A collection might be expressive through colour, movement or a dramatic outline, while a wearer decides which individual pieces meet her own requirements.

Enjoying the ambition of a design does not require adopting every part of its presentation. You can admire the atmosphere of a collection, study how it creates a sense of occasion and still choose a different interpretation for yourself. The designer supplies a creative proposal; the wearer brings the circumstances in which it might become meaningful.

Faiza Bouguessa: developing the possibilities of the abaya

French-Algerian designer Faiza Bouguessa described minimalism and elegance as starting points in Dmitri Ruwan’s 2015 interview for MOJEH. Working in Dubai, she wanted to develop abayas with a recognisable design perspective. She explained that some summer pieces could also be understood as lightweight coats by an international audience.

That observation is interesting because the same garment can enter different wardrobes through different associations. One person may approach it as an abaya; another may recognise the possibilities of a long outer layer. The original context still matters, even when the garment acquires another use.

The interview presented her autumn/winter 2015 campaign through restrained lines and richer colour accents. It is a useful combination to notice: a minimal approach can involve deliberate colour choices as well as a reduction in decorative detail.

Bouguessa also identified editing a collection as a challenge. A strong creative direction involves decisions about what belongs together. An appealing individual idea may need to be reconsidered if it pulls the collection away from its intended character.

Family influences and an expanding wardrobe

In a separate MOJEH interview in 2018, Bouguessa explained how the initial interest in an updated abaya developed into a broader wardrobe, including dresses, trousers and tops. She spoke about introducing silhouettes that felt familiar to women while changing what they might expect from the traditional garment.

She also credited her mother’s interest in art and literature and her grandmother’s sewing knowledge. These are concrete creative influences: ways of looking, making and choosing, passed through particular family relationships.

When exploring a collection, pay attention to that kind of explanation. A designer may express heritage through proportion, an approach to making or a personal sense of elegance. A visible emblem is only one possible route. Learning how the designer describes her own influences gives you more to appreciate than trying to identify her background from decoration alone.

Rabia Zargarpur: from everyday clothing needs to sharing knowledge

In Vivian Salama’s 2008 reporting for The National, Rabia Zargarpur explained how beginning to wear hijab in 2001 led her to reconsider her wardrobe. She started making tunics and long blouses for women in the United States, then returned to Dubai to develop her work in the UAE.

The report also describes an earlier change of direction from fashion training to business administration, before clothing became her focus again. The starting point was recognisably practical: she wanted clothing that brought her faith and interest in contemporary style into the same wardrobe. The account gives the design work a particular need and setting, rather than treating modest fashion as an abstract trend.

For a reader considering why a label exists, that is a useful question to retain. What did its founder want to wear that she struggled to find? A clear answer can make the choices within a collection easier to understand, even when your own wardrobe calls for something different.

Design experience can become a resource for others

Hafsa Lodi’s 2025 interview for Vogue Arabia follows another part of Zargarpur’s work: the Modest Fashion Academy, founded in 2017. The article describes masterclasses, workshops and individual mentoring for designers and entrepreneurs. Zargarpur discussed her wish to support the next generation and emphasised women’s control over how they express their style.

Her stated ambition concerns both clothing and the sharing of professional knowledge. It is an ambition, rather than independent proof of every participant’s results or every business’s ethical performance.

This broadens what it can mean to contribute to fashion. Alongside a finished garment, there may be teaching, advice, introductions and encouragement that help another person develop her work. When celebrating a designer, recognising those particular activities is more informative than making a general promise that her clothes will empower everyone who wears them.

Explore the differences between creative approaches

These interviews suggest several starting points for looking at a collection. You can use the questions below with any designer whose work interests you. They direct attention towards choices you can discuss, rather than asking you to rank one style above another.

What draws your interest?	Look more closely at	A useful question
The feeling a garment suggests	The relationship between its structure and the person wearing it.	What experience does the designer say she wants to create?
A strong visual identity	The repeated use of drawings, shapes or other recognisable elements.	What gives these pieces a shared character?
A familiar garment interpreted differently	The decisions that change its appearance or intended use.	Which parts have been reconsidered, and which remain significant?
A personal or cultural connection	The designer’s explanation of a reference, relationship or memory.	What does this influence mean within her own account?
A response to an everyday frustration	The problem the collection was developed to address.	Would that same problem matter in my own life?

A collection can answer several of these questions at once. You may initially notice an arresting image and become more interested after learning about the work behind it. Equally, an engaging story does not oblige you to enjoy the clothes. Thoughtful appreciation leaves room for both curiosity and personal judgement.

Bring the ideas into your own fashion interests

Make the connection specific

Choose one feature that you want to understand more deeply. “I like this designer” is a beginning; “I am interested in how these repeated drawings create a visual identity” gives you a direction. You might compare two collections, read an interview about a particular project or ask a designer to explain a reference at a public talk.

Keep your own response alongside that explanation. Perhaps the maker intended a sense of ceremony while you are drawn to the humour in one detail. These can coexist. Describing your reaction as your own preserves the distinction between the work’s stated intention and what you find in it.

Use inspiration to clarify your preferences

A useful outcome of exploring design is a clearer understanding of what you value. You might discover that you are more interested in graphic storytelling than ornate decoration, or that you enjoy clothes with several possible interpretations. Those preferences can guide how you discuss your wardrobe, commission a piece or experiment with garments you already own.

Try writing a brief description of an imagined collection for your own life. State the purpose, the atmosphere you want and one idea worth exploring. For example: “Clothes for hosting friends at home; relaxed but celebratory; an interest in a repeated hand-drawn motif.” This is a creative exercise, with no need to attach a designer’s identity or an entire cultural tradition to the result.

Let appreciation include useful questions

If you have an opportunity to speak with a designer, ask about a decision that interests you: what prompted a particular shape, which part took longest to resolve, or what changed after someone tried the first version. These questions make space for expertise and uncertainty. They also allow the designer to discuss the work in her own terms.

When sharing that conversation, credit the person and preserve what she actually explained. Avoid turning an account of one collection into a sweeping statement about all Muslim women, an entire country or the future of fashion. An individual voice is worth hearing in its own right.

Faith, fashion and the freedom to differ

The word modest can invite expectations before a garment has even been considered. A more useful conversation starts with the individual: the designer’s stated intention, the clothes she created and the wearer’s own priorities. Someone can share a designer’s faith while preferring a different aesthetic. Someone else can enjoy the same design for a different reason.

There is also a distinction between appreciating a creative contribution and endorsing every claim made around a label. A designer’s ambitions, a customer’s experience and evidence about production each answer different questions. You can value the work while remaining thoughtful about what you know.

For the broader development of clothing and textiles in Muslim societies, explore our guide to Islamic clothing history. The individual accounts here add another perspective: design develops through particular people making decisions, trying ideas and responding to needs they recognise.

That attention to the person behind the collection makes modest fashion richer to explore. It gives creativity a name, keeps cultural connections specific and leaves the wearer room to decide what belongs in her own life.