Visions of bubblegum pink in cohesive, regular doses has been a rarity in recent memory – as if a hangover from the 90s and Y2K pop cultural eras of magenta and rose as essential design features (Von Dutch and Juicy Couture, anyone?) – the 2010s saw minimalism and monochromatism as the antidote to these kaleidoscopic altars of our aesthetic tastes. Imbued with a deep sense of feminine quality – whether socially ascribed or energetically felt – pink is bold and brave, and Mmaphuti Movundlela is its patron saint in South Africa. Having only just graduated from Durban University of Technology from their Fashion & Textiles course, Phuti is already a polymath and namesake in South African fashion. Between running two businesses – P EXOTIC and and Closet Chipi – and styling iconic figures for Cottonfest, or playing photographer, model and muse – Phuti is a chameleon and shapeshifter when it comes to gaining experience in every role that the fashion industry has to offer. Infused with her curiosity and willingness to adapt, Phuti is also beaming with light, complexity and grit; a symphony of exceptional factors for a sartorial-star-in-the-making.

“I was born in Tembisa, Joburg, but I grew up in the North West in Rustenburg – so I speak Tswana, even though I’m not actually Tswana. Olebongeng Morapedi founded Ogorgeous Model Master Classes, and I saw a poster in a taxi for a casting – and coming from Rustenburg, there was nothing there in the way of fashion. She was teaching young girls how to model, alongside her designer friends who were dressing the shows. It was a beautiful entry into the space, but I realised I actually liked making the clothes and dressing up – and people responded to my style. I actually had a black phase, it was the only colour I wore; so I’ve done a 360 in my style.” Phuti reflects in our conversation, making the case that often we are born into a love for fashion and expression; no matter where we are situated, or how far such a career and reality may feel outside of major fashion cities like Johannesburg represents in South Africa. “On weekends, friends and I would have photoshoots and play around with clothing – it has always been my way of sharing who I am, or what mood I’m in. Thrifting was the way I could constantly reshape my style, and add the kind of flair I wanted to my outfits. It grew organically from there, when people showed interest in my clothing and so I started selling pieces to them. I used to make chokers, and caps with fur lining. A few years later, the modelling school reopened and I was asked to be the in-house photographer, as I had a camera and had been documenting my style and world for a while. I’ve been able to be very familiar with many aspects of fashion, and while design is probably my central role – I think having flexibility as a creative is really important, and to learn every part of what makes up the work we do in this industry.”

Inspired by the emphasis on fashion in early 2000s films like Princess Diaries and Mean Girls, Phuti’s sartorial spirit is her devotion to the joy of dressing. In a country where “civvies” is the exception rather than rule in the schooling system, fashion is a refuge from the rigid projections we are taught regarding our identities.  After school, Phuti began attending SA Fashion Week – purely out of curiosity – taking her camera with her, to document and bask in the work of local designers, and to peer behind the veil of how it all works in the industry. Phuti has a tenacious ability to reinterpret cultural inspirations from US-centric music and films through a decidedly South African lens; drawing on the local ingenuity of expression she grew up around, in a way that feels even cooler than whatever TV may have shown us. On these fashion show days, “I would buy a ticket for a show I really wanted to see at fashion week, and go by myself, walking around with my camera – and I’d meet people I knew from social media, and once I was even asked to sit in the front row because of my outfit; so I think all those moments, of just arriving in this spaces and knowing I belonged there, were build-blocks to my career now. This one time at a show, I saw DUT (Durban University of Technology) students showcasing, and at that time I had been accepted by LISOF; but my mom had expressed the financial challenge in going to a private design school. Those fees are no joke. So, after researching DUT – I knew this was the school I wanted to go to, with alumni like Katekani Moreku – so it seemed like a great fit. One of my lecturers was Kiara Gounder, who is a prominent 3D accessories designer locally and internationally – so DUT gave me the best nurturing and guidance I could have asked for.” Phuti touches on a poignant sentiment regarding the state of fashion education in South Africa; with an immense focus on expensive, privatised institutions – a career in fashion can seem even more inaccessible. Yet, in my humble opinion, a school like CPUT also has one of the best fashion departments in the country; and is Lukhanyo Mdingi’s former school.

Speaking on her label, Phuti says, “My business partner for P EXOTIC, Aphiwe Gxawu, is a fellow student at DUT, and we met in Durban. We started doing our own thing, and it was actually born out of not having anything to wear for a night out – so we’d make cute outfits like two hours before heading to the club. That’s one of the coolest moments from learning design and how to sew; when we realised we could make exactly what we needed, that’s the core of what we do. P EXOTIC is the story of us as girls getting ready, and sharing that with our customers. We are both in Joburg now, but P EXOTIC is inspired by the sexiness and style of people in KZN.” The emphasis on fashion in South Africa tends to be central to Joburg and Cape Town, yet Durban is an unsung city and influence; home to Mr Price’s headquarters, with a laidback, coastal spirit – Phuti reflects, ‘’A lot of people in Durban make their own clothes. Normal, regular households will have a sewing machine, and there’s so much fabric and textile history in Durban which I think has been overlooked. And the general style is not mainstream, either – which is really interesting – because I think fashion is really about individual people expressing themselves. I think there’s a lot of recognition that needs to be paid to Durban, and for the rest of the country to bring them closer into the fold of the fashion industry. I loved my time there, there’s so many different cultures and just a different way of life than I’ve experienced elsewhere in the country.” Phuti has since moved to Joburg, a natural progression towards being in the central hub for brand-building, design and creative direction. Here, she plans to continue growing P Exotic and Closet Chipi  – with the latter being a thrifting store that she runs with Maipelo Kaledi, carefully curated to reference looks of films from the past. One thing about Phuti and her friends? Their taste and touch will be on everything they do, uniquely and exceptionally so.

Phuti’s expression of pink is perhaps her most key signature – never failing to show a thousand ways and shades that this hue can be adorned. “Pink is a lighter shade of red, and it’s significant because we think it’s really girly, but I read that it was once worn by men in war. It has a really influential history in colour theory. I love the way it makes me feel, and the contrast of the colour on my skin. It’s also my mom’s favourite colour – and it represents such strong feminine energy. I think there’s a lot of narratives attached to the colour, and I like to challenge those perceptions – it’s my base colour from which I build every other colour I wear, but also, it’s just my favourite colour, and on black skin? That’s strawberries and chocolate, is there a more delicious combination?” Phuti states, ending our conversation with a definitively beautiful arc.

Written by: Holly Bell Beaton

Preceding the definition of “grunge” as an alternative rock sound and subculture ascended to cult-like heights, emanating from Seattle and outward into the sonic lexicon of the world – and before its heavy associations with thrifted clothing slapped together and white men with long, unkempt hair – there was Tina Bell. Now considered the “Godmother of Grunge” – it has taken a few decades for dues to be paid toward this ineffable black, female lead singer of Bam Bam, to whom the very origins of the grunge phenomena is owed; as it was Tina’s who began blending the shrills of heavy rock with moody, melodic vocals all within in the same song; alongside her enigmatic stage-persona and unbridled embodiment of the true punk spirit. It’s with Tina in mind, that I approach my conversation Anita Hlazo – both of us cognisant of what grunge meant to us as teenagers, many years after the subculture had all but peaked and faded into the obscurity of archived Tumblr archives. Anita is the founder and designer of Afrogrunge: a fashion brand (and community space) that seeks to diverge from the stereotypical tropes projected onto black people, and for Anita; a celebration of her experience as a black woman deeply influenced and raised by punk sentiments, grunge aesthetics and alternative music. The brand is officially four years old – but in fact, the Afrogrunge spirit is much older than that; and Anita feels she is mostly a custodian for the fusion of “afro” and “grunge” : and that the brand is her way of giving her younger self total permission to engage fully in the lineage of rock subcultures that is in fact, the birthright of all black people.

“Grunge as a concept has always been with me, since the end of grade 11. It came about as a form of identity for myself, because it spoke to my own experience. I was living with my grandparents in Gugulethu, and I didn’t feel too connected to the cultural norms around me – so I discovered a lot online. Grunge described, visually and emotionally, how I felt at the time. I started to see myself in this space – but I also wanted to honour being afro, African – and being a black girl drawn to this space. After using key phrases like “grunge” and “black girl”  to search online, I used the term “afrogrunge”, there was one editorial that I found, but nothing else. So nobody had claimed it yet, and there was no representation of black people specifically with grunge. I wanted to create the image that I wanted to see online.” Anita found herself drawn to being a designer, and presented this strength of concept to one of her lecturers; who felt she was onto something big. On this, she says, ‘’I learned design in university, so the brand itself started in 2018 – because that’s when I could sew and construct, and channel my aesthetic into a more specific offering- but it’s drawn on all my experiences and passion from before then. My first collection at school was encouraged by my lecturer at the time, who had no reference point for what I wanted to do; but I remember explaining it to him, and he was writing down every point I was making – and told me to go for it. He wanted to see what it was. The funny thing is, the collection ended up being mostly pink – which is not very grunge – but I think that’s where my own interpretation comes in, because there are no rules to the subcultures because the essence of grunge is to not care. I like that I’ve been able to build my own design language the way I have with Afrogrunge.”

Anita is obsessive with construction, and Afrogrunge’s quality and sewing is her homage to everything she learned at school – that detail is critical. Regarding the linear process from moodboard to sketch to mock-up, and then a final look, Anita comments “Things always turn out differently at the end, and that’s just the nature of designing. Design is problem-solving, so the challenges you meet along the way can influence change in ways you might never have expected, and that’s really exciting to me. I’m learning how to navigate the fusion between blackness and grunge; I don’t want to put too much of either as a fixed idea into what I make, because I don’t want it to feel forced. I always have to go back to my own aesthetic.” The total co-opting of punk and grunge toward a white-centric narrative is very far from its origin; and as such, makes Anita’s task an exceptionally important reassertion of grunge as wholly inclusive and plural. “I think the way rock has been represented hasn’t always told the full story. I also think that many people across these subcultures – whatever colour or culture you are – can be considered the outcasts, or fringe members of society. To know that blackness is within these spaces, in its origin, makes me realise that I am not actually bringing two opposing ideas together; but that I’m actually just remembering the full scope.” As Anita grows up alongside Afrogrunge, it has become more evident that the spirit of grunge is inextricable to her own spirit. Anita has created a space for other black kids growing up to see themselves in alternative ways,  “When I was imagining Afrogrunge in high school, I had an idea for a shop and a hang out place for grunge black people and people of colour. That’s still part of the dream, because all of this has taken place online; but I want to have a physical space where Afrogrunge can be a home for kids like me. It’s hard to measure how much of an impact Afrogrunge has had yet – but I think people are starting to see what I said for, and what story I’m wanting to tell.”

Anita has recently caught the attention of Sportscene, particularly their Redbat POSSE initiative: a range centred around activism in Gender-Based Violence, in which the 100% of the proceeds are donated to important work being done in South Africa to challenge the patriarchy and create safe spaces for women. “This thing is so big. It’s been a huge teaching moment – for myself as a designer, but also in terms of industry experience. I’ve always worked for myself and on my own, so to have the kind of guidance and mentorship that Redbat has provided is invaluable. Three designers were chosen to redesign and re-interpret the new Redbat POSSE collection for a campaign, in order to market a competition; showcasing what the entrants will be doing in the competition. I was able to challenge myself creatively, and to use the Redbat samples to offer an Afrogrunge expression as the final look. On the 5th of August, we will be attending the final showcase and competition. Our looks will be auctioned off, and It has such a strong sense of giving back, and to highlight Gender-Based Violence. It’s encouraged me to see how powerful fashion can be in the right hands, and with the right intentions.” Anita’s year has been one of the most successful in the journey so far; with 2022 showing her that there is money and value to what she has always been doing for her younger self and self-expression. The future’s looking bright, and perhaps with a lot less apathy than associated with grunge – but certainly that anything is possible with the attitude of rebellion.

Written by: Holly Bell Beaton

Every now and again, Thalia Strates’ IG becomes a portal into which we are invited behind the front-facing veneer of a brand – and beneath, we glimpse into the tender, yet fervent, heart that emanates outwardly one of the most sincere and meaningful offerings in South African design. That heart, is the brand’s namesake and founder, Thalia herself; and the portal I refer to, are the fleeting and unfiltered thoughts written via ‘stories’, against stellar backdrops of nature, places or moments from Thalia’s living experience. I wondered, when writing this piece and leading up to our conversation, why this act of Thalia’s kept coming up as so present in my mind. I think, perhaps, it is because it is always evident that creatives’ work are a labour of their love – this tends to go without saying – but for some reason, this shining vulnerability and rawness of Thalia’s expression, even in its subtlety and interdispersment, showcases to me a kind of ideal that  I envision one’s life work should be; that Thalia’s brand is an extension of her love, her curiosity, her commitment – and her life. It is entirely co-occurring with Thalia’s growth as a student fresh out of fashion school, to now as she embarks on her beautiful, demanding and destined experience of motherhood.

The principles remain for Thalia – her authenticity is her guiding compass, from gathering off-cuts and stitching purses at the very beginning (as she tells me, not being able to find a specific piece she yearned for) to nurturing a business that supports women, and embodies slow-design from living wages to textile sourcing; all the while tempered by timeless design, soft campaigns and reliable collections that are only ever updated by inspiration, not by consumptive crazes or demands. This is why, after nearly 9 years, Thalia Strates (as a brand) remains a cohesive and invaluable jewel in the growing crown of South African contemporary fashion. TS is your favourite’s favourite handbag brand, and Thalia herself a gem and protectress of craft – community – and consideration. 

“I studied at FEDISA straight after matric, knowing I wanted to be in fashion – but not really sure how. The brand was born from wanting things that nobody else had; so if there were trends, I would go in the opposite direction and with bags – I wanted something simple, and understated, but still very beautiful and thoughtful. I went to Woodheads and got a whole bunch of leather off-cuts, and sewed them all up on my domestic machine into little clutch bags. I’d wear them out, and I got a great response from people – and then I started to get a few queries, people wanting to buy one. I thought, okay, I can make one or two extra here and there…and it was actually my dad who pointed out at the time that he thought it was a good business model – I could make a sample, and then everything after that would be made-to-order. I think this has become synonymous with luxury or sustainability now, but then it just really seemed to work because I couldn’t afford to over-capitalise or sit on stock, nor had I even really envisioned a fully-fledged business.” Thalia, tells me that she is not very patient – rather, her strength is in seeing a visually compelling outcome, and then seeking out the most efficient roadmap to get there. This effectiveness has been Thalia’s boon in building TS as a space reflective of her personal integrity as a designer and entrepreneur. Once Thalia found a woman to work with her on production, TS began to take flight – on this, Thalia reflects, “My leather experience at that point was all self-taught, as we didn’t get any leather exposure at FEDISA. This was interesting, because I approached leather from the perspective of my seamstress training – so really winging it – but I knew the type of quality and finish that I wanted, and kept pushing up until that point. The customers I acquired in the very beginning are still customers today, and I think that’s one of the big reasons the business has lasted through all the ups and downs – all the return customers form the backbone of our continued health as a brand. That’s quite remarkable in a world where there is so much, of so much, to covet or to choose from.”

Thalia’s reflection on the beginning of the brand is telling of perseverance – it wasn’t a major acceleration, she recounts, nor an overnight success – in fact, there were many days of doubt – alongside trial and error. Though, amongst this, Thalia was growing her roots, and establishing the foundation and grounding that she required to bring forth TS as an expression of her creative anima – and having it function in a way that would Thalia to realise perhaps her greatest purpose; motherhood. On this, she says “The most important thing for me was to become a mom one day. I wanted to be able to have a business that I could run from home – dip in and when I need to – but prioritise my family. I fell pregnant right at the beginning of lockdown, and now I’ve been able to be a mom, to embody that experience that I’ve longed for, for so long. It’s everything and more – to have created and now nurture my daughter – but it has been overwhelming, too. My mental capacity took a dip, where even an email could create a sense of anxiety and debilitation. Motherhood is caring for oneself, and another – and I take care of a business too – so I felt very stretched thin at first, and it’s taken some time to feel creative and inspired and not just keep the business moving forward.” This is perhaps one of the most telling aspects of being a woman who wants to have children in the 21st century; the demands are deliriously challenging, with the age-old trope of women “having to do it all” – this earnestness from Thalia speaks again to her indelible authenticity; and a reminder that bringing life into the world is no small feat, nor something that should be treated as inconsequential to one’s own experience as a human being.

The brand itself has contributed to defining contemporary South African luxury is; especially in the realm of materiality.“Trying to source materials at the beginning was really hard. I think I came in at the end of an era, in a way where a lot of factories and suppliers were closing down and the variety was very limited. Most of what I could access was upholstery leather. The leather I chose was for the interior and shell of the bag; I wanted leather to be the central material, because it is so incredibly durable and beautiful. I wanted structure – and for the bag to gradually soften with time. I started using shoe leather, which took a very fine dance to source from places that had their last roll left. I still work with the same suppliers today – and in the beginning I was 23, 24 and perhaps it seemed like a side-project or hobby, but they saw the business grow and how serious I was. I looked at importing, but it went against the whole idea of sourcing locally; of celebrating our materials here in South Africa.” Leather exists as an industry, and while there are fabric innovations occurring – like cacti and pineapples – for Thalia, leather is intrinsic to South Africa across many cultures. It is a way to honour the whole animal; to bring about a talisman or heirloom for its life. Thalia’s wisdom and frankness on this; “I really had to use unorthodox leathers. I would bring my team this very thick leather, and we had to learn to stitch and manipulate it – and it got me to experiment with what has become signatures for the label, like springbok and shearling. It’s as relevant as ever. It’s totally raw and rough, which is my best. It’s sincere – and sustainable, too. Springbok particularly; it is being used for its horns, skin and meat. Natural culling, done humanely, is a part of the process. Our commercial farming industries, globally, are very inhumane – it is revolting – however I am a meat eater, it’s in my heritage and my body thrives on it. We make such a small amount of bags, it’s a drop in the ocean – but it’s a respectfully done collaboration with local game farmers with their own connection to the earth. I’m also not too convinced by vegan leathers that are so synthetic.”

For Thalia, the label is about connection. It’s a way to connect with likeminded people – with notable collaborations being Rich Mnisi, Pichulik and Matter of Fakt – but also to connect with her customers, many of whom are loyal supporters that have become friends. Thalia still makes many of the deliveries in Cape Town herself. “I find it interesting that with time, I’ve realised how important the brand has been in creating a space for me to show up to relationships and creative people with a bit of myself already to convey. You know what I’m about from what we do, so I can feel safe in learning and creating through relationships. Those stories I post – sort of, deep downloads – are able to go onto the brand’s social media because the brand is not separate from who I am in any way. I get responses that trigger conversations – and I know there are others that think like me – or there are responses that teach me, or challenge me to redirect my attention. Approachability is something I treasure in my own life, so I hope the brand relays that sense too. I have questions, and I want to learn from other people.” I could spend ages to talking to Thalia, and I found myself telling her my own sense that sometimes, I wonder if my experience as a writer and interviewer is precisely that; a yearning to get to the heart of the matter with the creatively brilliant that people I admire in South Africa – and beyond.. Refreshing and re-invigorating; Thalia Strates has much to say through her mindful practice of design and living on this earth, and I’m here to hear it.

Written by: Holly Bell Beaton