Cheatcodes for the Cost of Living (Crisis)

Mar 26, 2025 | Lifestyle, Community

Do you ever feel like, if you don’t go out for a R400 lunch at a second-best friend’s acquaintance’s luncheon, you’ll face a slow social death? Have you ever been brought close to tears by a free parking bay, only to realise that you’re about to get cut off by a shitty driver? What about that matcha latte you’re sipping on? Did you pay R10 extra for oat milk that is predominantly seed oil? If you answered yes to some of the above questions, then we bid you a happy welcome to adulthood, welcome to city life in the midst of a cost of living crisis! 

This is a game that is neither cheap nor easy, but should you win a few rounds, you could get your hands on some big rewards. These may include: Student loan debt relief, a downpayment for a house, or a big big promotion. 

Obstacle levels and challenges include 1) Filling up your petrol tank before the midnight increase 2) Saying no to the pop-up opening scheduled 2 days before payday 3) Making it home with your wallet, keys and dignity intact. Bonus points if you can hide your cat in your apartment block without losing your deposit. Living in one of South Africa’s cities is a game in and of itself.

All imagery courtesy of Pexels

Step 1: Pick Your Fighter

Before you enter the challenge, I implore you to gain a keen understanding of your character, this is a must when the stakes are high. In this case, consider that the stakes are your shelter, your social life, stability, and emotional and physical well-being. So, it’s better to decipher your financial archetype and its origin story early on. According to Vangile Makwakwa, author of What’s Your Money Personality, depending on who you are and who raised you, you will be one of five archetypes. Think of this like your character arc. At your worst, it’s a villain origin story. At your best, it’s the start of the Hero’s Journey. 

 

  • The Sweet One wants to spoil the people around them. Their treat-yourself mentality is infectious and generous. They know their friends and family are broke, so they splurge for the casual hang.

Strengths: Pleases people

Weaknesses: People-pleaser  

 

  • The Destroyer lives in fight mode. They’re confrontational and combative, and don’t mind moving in their own direction even when it’s uncomfortable. They’re capable of losing and building several fortunes in a lifetime, knowing that half their salary will be spent in the first 5 days of the month anyway.  

Strengths: Resilient

Weaknesses: Combative

 

  • The Fixer is crafty, logical and money-conscious. They know what to do and which savings account to draw from in crisis. Their Excel spreadsheets are impressive, and they stand to have a budding career as a CEO. At home, they’re loved by parents and envied by siblings. 

Strengths: Altruistic

Weaknesses: Controlling

 

  • The Runaway believes that a gut feeling is the same as a budget. When the numbers don’t add up, they turn on flight mode to avoid the drama, claiming that the energy is ‘toxic’. 

Strengths: Independent

Weaknesses: Avoidant 

 

  • The Eternal Child says I’m Baby and means it. Their Peter Pan psychology struggles to reckon with responsibility. They may seem like fun, but honestly, they have no idea if they’re tax-compliant. 

Strengths: Youthful  

Weaknesses: Useless

 

Step 2: The Name of the Game 

 

Fortunately, like in every game, each player has an opportunity to level up. Makwakwa argues that if we can address our wounds then we can begin to heal our psyche, changing the way we process information and respond to external events and crises. To unlearn the bad money habits we picked up from our upbringing, the sweet one must address fears of setting boundaries, the fixer’s fear of losing control, or the eternal child’s fear of taking responsibility. Her approach reminds us that assigning personal responsibility can help us regain agency. But, as compelling as it is to look inward, one must also remember that external obstacles still exist to throw us off course. In a cost of living crisis, where prices rise and VAT increases but minimum wage stays low and social relief only increases incrementally, the foundations upon which we build our lives are at odds with themselves. 

All over the world, industry is impacted by layoffs, labour is displaced by technology, public-interest R&D is halted in the face of fickle politics and grant remits. Globalism introduces new competition, and only the biggest survive. Native businesses struggle against the Temus and Sheins, proving that a squeaky clean record means little in comparison to cheap prices and quick delivery. All of this only to leave work and, on your way home, be reminded of an ongoing housing crisis that fills the streets of one of the ‘world’s best cities’. In that same city, landmarked neighbourhoods, iconic in the country’s social fabric, are at risk of erasure in favour of new duplexes and complexes developed for the digital nomads who spike rental prices and slowly push out the country’s middle class. In the face of such immense obstacles, advanced gameplay seems futile. And yet, we still tell ourselves that budgeting better, put savings away, and joining the 5 am club will fix things. 

But even then, city centres tend to trigger our worst financial habits. Distractions compel us to overdo it, to escape into excess and entertainment. Whether you’re blowing all your coin at the club, or jumping between overburdened side hustles, the city brings out our most impulsive, hedonistic behaviour. The towering advertisements and tourist-oriented glamour of miso-marinated restaurants and sponsored parties lure you in like glitter pretending to be gold.

And for a short while, it will be beautifully fulfilling. But for all its delicious decadence, the reality of your credit statement is not easily avoidable. Part of the problem with cosmopolitan living is that it tricks you into believing you have access. But after rubbing shoulders with the 1%, the bill will remind you that you’re still a part of the 99. Yes, the door is wide open, but certain barriers will keep you from getting your foot in. 

The Cheatcode? 

Marx’s Economic determinism posits that culture, politics and society are fundamentally shaped by market forces. Newton was also a deterministic thinker, who said that rules govern outcomes. Systems can be understood, mastered and optimised. This thinking implies that if we control the variables, then success can follow. Understand the economic cycles, and you can forecast, model or predict a better outcome. But in an economy seemingly ruled by disorder, and a stochastic world where everything is in flux, the only solution seems to be reliance on uncertainty. This leaves us wondering whether we’re trapped in a game with no reward, or simply lost in a side quest. 

On the one hand, we are compelled to believe that we have agency, that we exist during a time when anything is possible and opportunity is infinite – that we can pull ourselves out from down and out if we really want to win. It’s more encouraging, and perhaps more productive, to believe that interpersonal change can supersede market determinants. But on the other hand, economic fluctuations leave many feeling powerless. Although, for now, the best we can do is come to terms with what we can control in uncertainty, maybe there’s also value in recognising that this rat race is a little rigged. Try as we might to fix things ourselves, sometimes the game is to blame. If that’s true, then perhaps it’s up to the “developers, the designers and the programmers” to start fixing broken code. Maybe only then will the cost of living become easier to cheat?

 

Written by Drew Haller

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ART THEMES | THEME FOUR: OBJECTS

Mar 25, 2025 | Creatives, Art

Our bi-monthly curated art review is back for its fourth iteration. This time, a specific light is cast on artful objects: sculpted, framed, photographed, composed and pasted to create a piece worthy of noticing – in a world where the act of ‘paying attention’ or ‘spending time’ seems increasingly competitive.

There’s no denying that art exists in various forms. Art is a word so malleable that it has been used to describe something as broad as life itself. From a grain of sand to the act of performing societal roles or simply the gesture of drinking morning coffee, out of necessity, we’ve created categories to describe life, art and the objects often representing the relationships between them. Objects and mannerisms alike, we’ve chosen the former, strictly not 2D visual art, to focus on in this interaction of Art Themes, our curated bi-monthly art review. 

In the words of Russel Tovey, he shares the importance of gathering artful objects, crafted and framed by a maker, placing them in context and appreciating them – as the magic of life. “I really care about stuff. To others, this stuff may just be stuff, but to me this stuff is everything. For me, this is art. Be it filmed, photographed, molded or hand-built, drawn or painted, recorded or reappropriated, art in all of its forms and guises, is my world.”

This March, we explore the work of artists Hylton Nel, Josh Egesi, Indrajit Khambe, Mestre Didi and Usha Seejarim, as they draw from their cultural contexts around the world in mediums of photography, sculpture, ceramics, furniture and found objects.

Photographic series by Indrajit Khambe (2025), photography courtesy of the artist

Indrajit Khambe: Photography

One could argue that photography is indeed a two-dimentional art form, however in the case of Indrajit Khambe, he uses the inspiration of traditional Indian saris as the object of symbolic significance. In rural India, these traditional Indian saris protect precious crops from grazing cattle. Khambe documents the old saris that create fences in his Maharashtrian hometown. In Ramgad, within the Sindhudurg district located off the Konkan coast, vibrant saris line the farmlands with their striking shades of reds and yellows, billowing in the breeze. Khambe has grown up and lived in this village all his life, and he believes his photographs document the lived realities of a community that is underrepresented. His artworks document the beauty in the rich history of the country – those who wore the saris and have passed them on to serve a broader role in the community.

Mestre Didi, Mixed Medium Sculpture, imagery courtesy of Inaicyra Falcao, Photography by Martin Seck

Mestre Didi: Mixed Medium Sculpture 

Besides being a sculptor and writer and central figure in 20th century art, Mestre Didi was an important researcher and religious leader, and carried out work of great relevance to studies on sacred art linked to Afro-Brazilian religions. His entire body of work is linked to the Nagô universe, a people of Yoruba origin. His sculptures were made predominantly from organic materials such as wood, straw, bamboo cowrie shells and beads. These made reference to the traditional art and objects of the Yoruba people, as well as symbolic representations of entities from the cult of ancestors. Elements from the Yoruba visual culture, such as birds, snakes, spears, and flames, are reworked by Didi into pieces that evoke the ancestry of this religion. This artwork “IGI NILÉ ATI EJO ORI MEJI (Tree of Earth with Two-Headed Serpent)” is part of his exhibition “Spiritual Form”. He reimagined Candomblé ritual objects as artworks in their own right. It was for this community that he produced several liturgical objects, before his personal award-winning artistic career earned him renown in the mid-1960s, even if at the outset the Brazilian artistic community only accepted his work as decorative art.

Josh Egesi, Ayo Bench. Photography by Ian Cibic, captured at the Wallpaper24 exhibition at Triennale Milano, 2024.

Josh Egesi: Furniture 

This Lagos-based artist and industrial designer has created the ‘Ayo Bench‘ which transcends the definition of furniture to make research-driven art which engages with cultural preservation, technology and ecology. The bench itself is designed to encourage conversation, but also has a game carved into it. ‘Ayo’, also known as Ayo-Olopon, is a traditional Nigerian game, specifically played by the Yoruba people in southwestern Nigeria, and is a type of mancala game, requiring strategic thinking and numeracy skills. Egesi shares, “In today’s design landscape, the true essence of African design lies in its ability to communicate the soul of an object. It’s about creating pieces that resonate on a personal level, evoking emotions and telling stories.”

Hylton Nel, Glazed Ceramic Stoneware. Imagery courtesy of the artist.

Hylton Nel: Ceramics

The prolific South African ceramicist, Hylton Nel has created hundreds of vases, bowls, plates and sculptures since the 1960s, mostly out of his Karoo studio. Most recently, he collaborated with Dior for the exhibition-like runway for Paris Fashion Week, which showcases his expansive reach. For Nel, there is no colour, shape, glaze or decoration that is incidental or without significance. He sees the repetition inherent to his vessels as infinite prompts for variation, stating, ‘Most of what I make are plates. The same shape over and over, but like people each one is different.’ His work is both utilitarian and decorative, functional and aesthetic. His ceramic pieces encompass geopolitics, pets and sexuality, reflecting a contemporary life mediated through the long tradition of ceramics. One might overlook vases, plates and bowls, finding them purely functional or unconsciously allow them to blend into the pastiche of home decor. Nel has, however, found a way to echo his own experience and tell stories which infiltrate the normality of domestic ‘objects’ to be of far more significance to himself and the viewer.

Usha Seejarim, Shy Yoni. Imagery courtesy of the artist.

Usha Seejarim: Domestic Objects

This Johannesburg-based artist explores the domestic space as a site of servitude, subversion and resilience through an intersectional lens. Functional objects found in the home, specifically the kitchen or scullery such as clothes pegs, ironing soleplates, brooms and serving trays – are repurposed and reframed to explore themes of oppression and agency in relation to gender, race and class. In the repetitive acts of assembling, Seejarim evokes the relentless, cyclical nature of domestic labour – traditionally gendered as women’s work. Through the use of these objects for art and commentary, contrasting from their original intended use, Seejarim explores a position of rebellion against the confines of womanhood and domesticity.

 

The abundance of expression and application of human creative skill and imagination is astounding, often overwhelming. From natural found objects paying homage to a long spiritual and religious tradition, to the use of everyday domestic objects to communicate a more contemporary subversion of gender roles, these artists have gathered common, recognisable items to make a comment and encourage one to look deeper. This is simply a microcosm, a curated sample-size of those artists around us trying to understand the difficult (and simple) questions we’re faced with in this life.  

Written by: Grace Crooks

For more news, visit the Connect Everything Collective homepage www.ceconline.co.za

An Ode To The Collective and The Craft: Inside The Legacy of Boyz N Buck$ Alumnus, uSanele

Mar 24, 2025 | Interviews, Music

A revolving conversation I’ve had a tough time deliberating on is how the early 2010s up until the pandemic period of the 2020s was the golden era for South African Hip-Hop. The burgeoning influence stemming from the creatives of that time has paved the way for the new school to align themselves with commercial success, brand identity and a renewed parameter for self-expression. At the forefront of fashion, music, radio, television, and the cultural renaissance of the time was a collective called Boyz N Buck$, primarily comprised of OkMalumkoolkat, Scoop Makhathini, Bhubesi, the late Riky Rick, Stilo Magolide and our featured artist for this interview, uSanele.

Born, raised and educated in Durban, uSanele sees himself as a conduit, a vessel to bring out the best in those around him, and this was primarily the reason why he decided to become a musician (among his vast forms of creative expression, which include graphic and fashion design). Having built a solid foundation in the creative scene via his brother Zamani, who would later form Dirty Paraffin With OkMalumkoolkat, uSanele had little to no idea of the significant impact being at the right place at the right time would have on him.

Experimental, daring, anti-establishment, much like their influence, Skwatta Kamp would define the early years of Sanele’s career as a member of Boyz N Bucks who shook the core of mainstream culture with posse cuts like “mswenkofontein” and “COMBO”, to name a few. uSanele was able to continue this spirit of innovation with his venture into being a solo act still in hopes of inspiring and influencing the next generation of artists who will forge their own path into culture.

Viewing the process of creating music as spiritual and reflective of his personal healing, Sanele shares: “I’m particularly drawn to African spirituality and the power of language—noting how in my culture, ‘iSangoma’ (healer) and ‘ingoma’ (music) share linguistic roots, highlighting music’s healing purpose”. His latest offering “USANELEUYIGHOST“, an amalgamation of his previous efforts “Gangular” and “Mvelase”, continues the cultural essence of paying it forward and respecting the craft in a digital age where artists often have to compromise for clout. 

With standout singles like “CNR. JUTA” and the title track of the album, we experience a well-curated tropical sound that is brewed with authenticity, suave, depth, narrative, craftsmanship and perspective of a creative who is not worried about appealing to a younger audience playing industry politics but calmly embracing his position in life and OG status in the industry. Our candid conversation unpacks his humble beginnings, the discourse of his catalogue and the essence of community. 

Images courtesy of Sanele Xolo

Take me back to the beginning. How did growing up in Durban influence your decision to become a creative?

uSanele: “I was born, raised, and educated in Durban. My biggest creative influence was my brother Zamani, who formed Dirty Paraffin with OkMalumkoolkat. From a young age, he influenced my creativity—he excelled at drawing, initially studied mechanical engineering, then switched to graphic design around ’98. This introduced me to design programs and Apple machines, completely transforming my perspective.

Though my brother was into music, I wasn’t initially interested. He disapproved of my pop music choices and introduced me to Hip-Hop. I later became involved with the BAT Centre’s creative scene in Durban, starting as a breakdancer with no musical ambitions. My exposure to Star Wars and American Hip-Hop documentaries sparked my interest in Hip-Hop culture, which led me from dancing to becoming a backpack rapper and battle rapper.

Moving to Johannesburg to pursue a creative career opened my eyes to much bigger possibilities. I arrived fresh from Vega and joined Petro with Jack Gorton (Phat Jack), importing vinyl designer toys and participating in sneaker culture. Working with AmaKip-Kip was significant, and I should credit Scoop Makhathini—my high school senior from Durban, who I reconnected with in Johannesburg, where he worked at YFM and Street Journal.

I also reconnected with Smiso (OkMalumkoolkat), whom I met at Vega. I encouraged him to move to Johannesburg, believing our work could gain more traction there. After showing him around, we met MK Fresh (working at YFM), who was friends with Scoop and Nkosana from AmaKip-Kip.

When OkMalumkoolkat relocated to Johannesburg, he and my brother started Dirty Paraffin. We had previously created another music collective called Zulu on my Stereo, but I couldn’t commit to it due to work. Through Dirty Paraffin, we met Bhubesi, who was doing interesting work.

Coming from Durban’s diverse background, I initially rapped in English, influenced by American Hip-Hop. OkMalumkoolkat, originally a dancer, challenged the B-Boy scene and later encouraged me to rap in my mother tongue, IsiZulu. Though intimidated by pure IsiZulu rap, his encouragement helped me develop my style.

Bhubesi’s approach to Hip-Hop/Kwaito fascinated us. While I was working at Nike designing shoes, we collaborated on music, and Scoop (who was on Vuzu) coined the term “Boyz N Buck$.” We continued working together and met the late Riky Rick and Choc (Stilo Magolide) through Cream Cartel.

In my professional career and music, I was at the epicentre of progressive culture. We established our collective as an underground, anti-establishment creative group rather than a boy band, drawing inspiration from groups like Skwatta Kamp without aspiring to mainstream success or record deals. The rest is history!”

Your catalogue has a distinctly tropical sound, with the exception of the experimentation with Indie Nguni, Gqom and Mature Trap, to name a few. How do you determine which sonic direction personifies each project?

uSanele: “To be honest, I’ve never approached my music with intentionality—except for my most recent album “USANELEIGHOST.” My earlier projects were pure experimentation, reflecting where I was then and the influences around me.

Ironically, I never saw myself as a solo artist. I made music primarily to inspire my friends because I saw potential in them. They would encourage me by saying, “You’re good at this; you should do this,” but pursuing a solo career wasn’t my plan, even though that’s what I was doing in Durban. When I came to Johannesburg, I was overwhelmed by the scale of the scene. My real passion was design—fashion and sneaker culture—and music emerged through proximity and experimentation with everyone in our collective.

My perspective expanded through exposure to different studio sessions with other artists. It was eye-opening compared to my bedroom studio experiences. My approach to music became similar to my design process—looking at references for inspiration, taking elements I liked from various sources, and combining them into something unique.

It’s always been about experimentation for me. “USANELEUYIGHOST” represents my near-final form because it reflects what I learned from my previous two projects—what people responded to and what actually worked when I took it in certain directions. I took successful elements from each project and asked myself what fresh perspective I could bring.

My music has evolved and combines my first two projects with my current life circumstances. I believe art imitates life—to tell a story, you must draw from lived experiences.

 

One of the standout moments from the album was the lead single, CNR. JUTA, where the visuals were very fashion-forward, street and immersed in urban culture. How did you go about the styling element and conceptualisation of those visuals?

uSanele: “I’m fortunate to live in Cape Town, surrounded by young and talented creatives. Lethabo Motlatle (@styledbylthiiz) was my stylist for the video, and Mvjor Plvg Christian served as the director and shooter. It was more about them taking my vision and interpreting it their way. Other creatives like Wes (@wes_thesis), Simba (@simba.raws), and several others whom I can’t name right now were also deeply involved in the creative process, rather than everything coming solely from me.”

There’s an interesting point on “iJampile” about the notion of OGs not knowing when to leave. Are you of the opinion that the music industry is a young man’s sport and artists can reinvent themselves as they age?

uSanele: “Absolutely, it’s definitely a young man’s sport. There’s never a right time to leave, but leaving isn’t necessarily about exiting the game completely—it’s about recognising you’re no longer at the forefront of defining what’s cool. You can remain stylish and influential for a long time, but you won’t always determine what’s next because younger creatives will build on your foundation. I’m not claiming that groups like the Qwellers or Broke Boys directly took inspiration from us, but we might have been an example for them, just as Skwatta Kamp showed us how friends could collaborate creatively.”

 

Watch “CNR. JUTA” here

Images courtesy of Sanele Xolo

Thank you for joining us for this interview; before you leave, please let us know your plans? What does 2025 and beyond look like for uSanele?

uSanele: “That’s a tough one because I’m constantly toying with the idea of not releasing music. But as a creative individual, I won’t stop making it. I was conversing with my son recently, and I will put out more music because of him. He’s 16 and has started making music himself. During our conversation, he shared with me the depth of impact I’ve had, and to be made aware that my music was connecting with such a young audience was encouraging. It means there’s still a need to do that work.

I’ve got music in the vault, and while I can’t say I will put out an entire project this year, I plan to release more songs. Right now, I’m focused on mentoring my son and helping him navigate the creative space.”

 

Written by Cedric Dladla

 

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Ecstatic Exit: Reimagining Sci-Fi Through Movement and Intimacy

Mar 21, 2025 | Creatives, Art

‘Ecstatic Exit’ offers a radical alternative to the Sci-Fi-genre’s saturation of metal and gadgets— where intimacy is the most powerful technology and connection is the ultimate form of escape. Directed by Johannesburg-based filmmaker and media artist Hallie Haller, the sci-fi dance film presents a vision of interplanetary travel that is deeply embodied, emotional, and tactile.

The narrative arc of ‘Ecstatic Exit’ follows two travelers, lost across dimensions, who must find each other to escape the world of their hunters. This is not a journey through space as we know it—rather than warping across galaxies in engineered vessels, the film suggests that true travel is an inward process: movement, intuition, and touch become the tools for transcendence.

For Haller, this project marks a significant step in realising their voice within the science fiction genre. “I want to explore alternate ways of being through cinema,” they explain. “This film urges us to consider realities beyond the tropes of wartime machinery and hardware.” Instead of the cold sterility often associated with sci-fi, ‘Ecstatic Exit’ is warm, bodily, and deeply sensory, questioning how human connection itself might be a technology of the future.

As a filmmaker, Haller’s work exists at the intersection of body, machine, and nature. Their background includes an impressive array of projects in participatory and co-created cinema, alongside contributions to initiatives like GirlsInFilm South Africa and Electric South’s New Dimensions VR Lab. Their artistic ethos is evident in ‘Ecstatic Exit’, a film that challenges the genre’s norms and offers a compelling new visual language for speculative storytelling.

From a production standpoint, ‘Ecstatic Exit’ is a feat of multidisciplinary collaboration. Featuring movement direction by Phoenix Chase-Meares, cinematography by Reezo Hassan, and an evocative score by Concrete Savanna, Pressure Cooker, and composers James Matthes & Keith Kavayi, the film embodies a seamless fusion of dance, sound, and visual storytelling. The meticulous color work by CHEAT’s Mara Ciorbă and visual effects from Chocolate Tribe further amplify its ethereal aesthetic, making for a film that is as visually striking as it is conceptually profound.

With ‘Ecstatic Exit’, Hallie Haller expands the possibilities of sci-fi, pushing the genre beyond its mechanical confines and into the realm of the intimate and the sensorial. In a world where technology often alienates, this film proposes a future where connection—both to ourselves and to one another—is the key to transcendence.

 

Starring Phoenix Chase-Meares and Mukovhe Monyai

Writer/ Director Hallie Haller

Movement Director Phoenix Chase-Meares

D.O.P. Reezo Hassan

1st AC Mark Honeyman

2nd AC Adrian Madikisa

Grip Tavis Hendry

Gaffer Kyle Brooks

Gear House Zootee Studios

 

Producer Hallie Haller

Production Manager Whitney Greyton

Locations Manager Fundi Shezi

Editor Jade de Jager

Sound Recordist Michaela Solomons

Title Design  Isabel Pereira

 

Colourist Mara Ciorbă

Colour Producer Dominic Strachan

Colour House: CHEAT


Sound Engineer Garrick Jones, AUDIO MILITIA

Soundtrack – Concrete Savanna

Sound Artist – Pressure Cooker

Composers – James Matthes & Keith Kavayi 

Publisher – Fat Mama Publishing

 

Visual Effects / Post Production: Chocolate Tribe

VFX Supervisor: Rob van den Bragt

Executive Producer: Nosipho Maketo – van den Bragt

Head of Production Rob van den Bragt

VFX Producer: Nikki Maistry

Chief Technical Officer / Technical Director Tiaan Franken

Lead Compositor:  Alistair Johnson

Compositors :  Kyle Sibanda

Johan Wentzel

Digital Matte Painting: Michael Howard

IT Support :  Aqeel Abba

Marketing Coordinator: Phenyo Manamela

Legal :  Nosipho Maketo – van den Bragt

 

AMANDA REIFER releases ‘RUDUMB?’ produced by Pharrell Williams

Mar 21, 2025 | New Release, Music

2x GRAMMY® Award-nominated artist Amanda Reifer delivers a new single entitled “RUDUMB?” produced by Pharrell Williams and co-written by Amanda Reifer and K. Lamar, out now via Title 9 / Atlantic Records. It notably marks her very first collaboration with Pharrell, and it lands as the third single from her anxiously awaited debut solo album, The Reifer Files, coming this Spring. The vibrant artwork was created by Korean contemporary artist ZiBEZI, best known for his iconic painting featured in the Oscar-winning film Parasite.

On “RUDUMB?” Amanda Reifer shares, “‘RUDUMB?’ is a song born out of frustration of being underestimated as a woman in the world; in career, in love, in business. Working in the studio with masters will really bring out parts of yourself that you’ve tucked away or have been shy to explore, and I’m so grateful to have been given the space and environment by these prolific men to create a record like this. When we wrote this record I really wanted to give voice to that part of being a woman that is often forced to be censored and made small for the comfort of others. Sharpening my pen in the studio with the lyrical master K. Lamar and having so much fun doing it really brought  me confidence in expressing that women are multifaceted and we should take up the space that we deserve. ‘You need me in the room for Feng shui!’ This song really taps into the audacious element of my album.”

The forthcoming project The Reifer Files traces a vibrant portrait of Amanda as not only an artist, but also as a creative, a lover, and a woman projected through an ever-evolving palette of musical moods, vibes, and storytelling.

 

Listen to ‘RUDUMB?’ here

 

Press release courtesy of Reliable PR

Sarah Téibo releases ‘Baba O’, a Celebration of Life

Mar 21, 2025 | New Release, Music

London-based, award-winning gospel artist Sarah Téibo is making a change in 2025 with the release of ‘Baba O’ (Afro House Remix), a fusion of African rhythms and soulful house beats. The track reinvents one of the standout songs from her latest EP, ‘Human Like Me’, injecting it with a fresh energy that is deeply spiritual.

An anthem of hope, ‘Baba O’ carries a universal message—no matter what we go through, we are never alone. Originally crafted as a soulful worship piece, this new remix, produced by Sigag Lauren, reimagines the song for the dancefloor, blending pulsating beats with Téibo’s signature warm, emotive vocals. 

“This remix is a joyful expression of life, love, and light,” shares Téibo. “I wanted to give ‘Baba O’ a new soundscape—one that makes people want to move, while still holding onto its original uplifting message. The fusion of Afro house, Afropop, and Afrosoul gives it a vibrant, electrifying feel.”

Known for breaking barriers in the gospel scene, Téibo has already made history as the first female independent gospel artist to top the Official UK Charts, with a catalogue that spans MOBO-nominated albums and Billboard-charting singles. With this latest release, she continues to evolve, showcasing her versatility and ability to inspire across genres.

‘Baba O’ (Afro House Remix) marks an exciting new chapter in Téibo’s career—one that keeps her firmly rooted in her faith while embracing the global rhythms that bring people together.

 

Listen to ‘Baba O’ here

 

Press Release courtesy of Only Good Stuff

Gibela, A Meditation on Cultural Consciousness by FEDE Arthouse

Mar 20, 2025 | Art, Community

Established in 2020 by artist and curator, Lebo Kekana, FEDE Arthouse is a nomadic gallery working at the intersection of art, design and culture. Through research-based and site specific presentations, FEDE’s curatorial practice centres around ‘space-making’ to create alternative exhibition experiences in varying environments.

FEDE sets out to defy the “white-wall” template, dismissing the clinical approach to exhibition making, and opting for a methodology more curious, culturally engaged, and community-based. Gibela a Nguni word translating to ‘Get on board’, the exhibition, is but one part of a moving programme, between Johannesburg and Cape Town, with various layers of cultural activations.

Gibela, the latest curatorial offering by FEDE Arthouse is an exhibition showcasing the work of 6 artists based between Johannesburg, Cape Town, Durban and Brussels. Led by the work of cultural production, the aim of this showcase is towards the development of expression, recognition and respect of different cultures, including one’s own. 

Gibela is thus intended to speak not only through Fine Art, but rather a broad field of Cultural Production, including ‘Groove Culture’ and design — amongst various other elements through which many societies throughout human history have sought to self-define and create environments which reflect and preserve their values, beliefs and knowledge systems.

We had the pleasure of discussing Gibela with Lebo through this interview:

Exhibition photography by Athenkosi Maqubela

Gibela represents a span of culturally important and relevant work, can you talk about what the experience was like whilst curating this exhibition? 

Lebo: The first challenge came with recognising how broad a concept ‘culture’ is in itself. To address this, we wanted to create a broad palette of cultural experiences, beyond just an art exhibition, recognising how, as a format of gathering, an exhibition alone is too culturally specific and doesn’t hold enough room for diverse perspectives and ways of being. Gibela is therefore a first step in FEDE making it clear that we’re not only interested in Fine Art, and are broadening our framing, speaking instead through ‘Cultural Production’.

This has encouraged us to practice in ways beyond our comfort zone. For instance, throwing a party — and I mean, a Joburg kind of party, was a first. And it was incredible! We’re testing out alternative formats beyond the exhibition model. Our space of interest is in how various models can borrow from each other to create new, forward-thinking forms of cultural engagement.

Can you tell us about how the shows differed across the two host cities and what the intention was of having different experiences in JHB and Cape Town?

Lebo: From my own experience of existing between the two cities, there’s a sense of monoculturalism that defines the city of Cape Town, which is contrasted by the melting-pot that is Johannesburg. And based on similar reflections from the participating artists, this became Gibela’s point of departure. As an exercise in cultural consciousness, we wanted to comment on and draw from how culturally distinct these two cities are — how it’s almost as though the spell of Eurocentrism, as a kind of late-stage form of colonialism, has deeper roots in one city than the other.

On a more granular level, Gibela contemplates the application of seemingly universal epistemologies to specific cultural contexts – think of the imposition of Modernist principles in a Bantu homeland, or inversely, uMaskandi being blasted in a gallery, for example. This space of interest results in a matrix of references that exist on a spectrum between ‘the regional’ and ‘the universal’.

From these two ideas, arose a kind of abstract duality which we emphasised with two main offerings – uMcimbi and an exhibition, in Johannesburg and Cape Town, respectively. uMcimbi (a Nguni word meaning ‘event’ or ‘party’) in South Africa, it’s typically characterised by collective engagement through singing traditional songs, dancing, and ululations, and is a celebration of culture, family and community. The ‘White Cube’, on the other hand, is the archetypal (and universal) modality for engaging with the products of artistic expression, and it finds its origins in the advent of 20th-century Western Modernism.

These two distinct formats of gathering exist as the anchor points of Gibela. Together they create a third space defined by a broad palette of cultural nuances — cultivating a consciousness of culture rooted in the South African context but informed by a global ontology.

Each of the six artists involved in the Gibela exhibition explores a broad palette of cultural nuances including their histories, identity politics and socio-environmental positioning in a unique and intersectional way (spanning 2018-2025). What was the process like curating these works specifically, whilst some were made beforehand, like Mandisa Buthelezi‘s photographic series, were some of the works created specifically for this exhibition?

Lebo: Each artist was invited to form part of Gibela because I felt their overall practice intrinsically reflected a consciousness of culture, grounded by personal narratives. Some artists extended already existing work, while others were keen to create completely new work specifically for Gibela — something I never take for granted, because it expresses the artists’ response to the central idea, which expands our framework beyond the initial prompts.

Gibela poses a range of important questions, including a more subliminal challenging of hegemonic ideologies and homogenous ways of seeing. How would you encourage people to take this ideology and concept behind Gibela and practice it in their own lives?

Lebo: I’ll answer with a set of polar definitions by Bermet Borubaeva. She defines the ‘colonised’ production of knowledge as “the alienation from context, from creation of meanings and their replacement with external cultural dominants.” She then describes the decolonisation of knowledge production as a traumatic but emancipatory process and “experience of finding yourself, your context, your history, your background, your discourse and constituting it publicly.” So, Gibela! (“Get on board”).

Creative gestures may come in many forms, be it through an artist’s decision to communicate ideas using their native language, a designer’s reimagining of tradition in the definition of a context-conscious modernity, or a filmmaker’s recovering of silenced histories through activating personal or public archives in order to inform new modes of storytelling. These curious, courageous and sincere creative gestures become a means to create signifiers which resonate more closely with one’s true sense of self. Gibela has successfully layered elements of both past and present, influences both local and universal to bring together a culturally diverse, complex and rich conversation which strives towards the betterment of self and collective community.

Exhibition photography by Athenkosi Maqubela

About Gibela’s Participating Artists:

Chuma Adam is a multidisciplinary artist based in Johannesburg, South Africa, working mainly through painting, printmaking, drawing and textiles. Her work is greatly informed by the writings of philosopher Édouard Glissant, such as his theory on opacity in “Poetics of Relation”.

Boemo Diale is a multi-disciplinary artist who grew up navigating different racial and socio-political structures in Rustenburg and the suburbs of Johannesburg as a young mixed-race woman. Rather than incongruent, her playful, bright and layered use of spray paint, ink, pastel and acrylic paint and form signals a deconstruction of struggle, vulnerability and fierce questioning about her sense of place impacted by maternal relationships, community and global tropes. 

Nkhensani Mkhari is a South African nomadic artist. His diverse body of work is distinguished by an observation of his surroundings and an ongoing investigation of the artistic medium’s foundations. Drawing inspiration from the vibrant cultural and social landscapes of South Africa, Mkhari’s art delves into themes of identity, community, and the human condition.

Bongani Tshabalala is a South African artist whose work is dedicated to reimagining spaces and places through the use of fragrance, music, food, photography, text, and product design.

Anna van der Ploeg is an interdisciplinary artist primarily across the mediums of sculpture, painting, printmaking and writing. Her work is driven by an interest in societal imagination and finding new perspectives on the idea of community.

Mandisa Buthelezi, born in 1991, Kwazulu-Natal, South Africa, Mandisa Buthelezi is a Photographer and Cultural Producer who was raised in the township of Umlazi, in Durban. The importance of cataloguing and documenting African culture through visual art has become an important component of her work through work assignments. This has shaped her notion of sustaining the culture that surrounds her.

 

View ‘Gibela’ catalog for further information on available artworks here

 

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Rich Mnisi celebrates their 10th anniversary with their latest collection, ‘Nambu’

Mar 20, 2025 | Creatives, Fashion

This year, RICH MNISI marks a decade of storytelling, craftsmanship, and cultural expression. To celebrate this milestone, the trans-seasonal 25 collection, NAMBU (River), is more than just a seasonal offering—it is a declaration of identity, a testament to the brand’s journey, and a reflection on the currents that have shaped its legacy.

NAMBU, meaning “river,” symbolises vitality, movement, and the endless flow of creativity that has carried RICH MNISI over the past ten years. Water, like time, is in constant motion, carving paths, shaping landscapes, and nourishing the world around it. In the same way, RICH MNISI has navigated the evolving tides of fashion, steadily carving out a unique space where heritage and modernity merge.

All imagery courtesy of Rich Mnisi

For this campaign, they explore patriotism—not in the traditional sense, but through the lens of devotion to the world of RICH MNISI. The lookbook introduces the Republic of RICH MNISI, a nation built on boldness, fluidity, and fearless self-expression. This imagined republic manifests visually through flags inspired by the South African, Nigerian, and Guatemalan flags—each a nod to the cultural influences that have shaped the brand’s ethos. These flags, much like the garments in the collection, symbolise unity, resilience, and the blending of diverse narratives into a singular, powerful statement.

NAMBU encapsulates this spirit through fluid silhouettes, rich textures, and a palette that mirrors the vibrancy of nature’s lifeblood—rivers that sustain, heal, and transform. Each design is a reflection of growth, a tribute to the past, and a bold step into the future of the brand.

As RICH MNISI turns 10, this collection serves as a reminder that fashion is more than what we wear—it is a declaration of identity, a story woven into fabric, and a movement that flows beyond borders. Welcome to the Republic of RICH MNISI. Welcome to NAMBU.

Shop the collection here

Press release courtesy of iM4 Agency

The Pioneering Madame of Hyperpop, Angel-Ho

Mar 19, 2025 | Interviews, Creatives

The DIY music scene has always been a space for radical self-definition, but hyperpop has taken this to its most delirious, glitched-out extreme. By its mandate and its pure expression, hyperpop is a genre that has a singularly queered identity and sound—channelling the transgressive glamour of club-kid culture before it with the raw defiance of punk, and the high-gloss, low-fi alchemy of early internet music scenes: pushing past pastiche into something untethered, ecstatic, and wholly new. 

With the sound warping vocals into helium-laced cyborg screeches, pushing bass to grotesque, blown-out limits, twisting pop tropes into something unrecognisable yet deeply, viscerally familiar: hyperpop is resistance and a sonic hacking of mainstream culture that has turned hyper-femininity, hyper-masculinity, and hyper-digitality inside out. It’s a space in which queerness is a governing force and a portal to entirely new modes of existence: a space for identity to be fluid, mutable, and the music itself, forming a sonic manifesto of defiance and possibility. With its DIY origins, it has been an artform that emerged from the bedrooms and studios of the self-taught, who would go on to make a name for themselves on the internet’s world stage.

South African artist Angel-Ho is a Patron Saint and Mother of hyperpop’s emergent decade; as a global pioneer, their multiple incarnations are both an invocation and an evolution—a constant shape shifting that mirrors the very ethos of hyperpop’s queering of sound and self. Angel-Ho is an architect of new realities. Their sonic landscapes have pulled from the raw urgency of the South African underground, the global avant-garde, and the ecstatic digital ether— all at once collapsing them into something both deeply personal and radically expansive. From the opulent alien femininity of Death Becomes Her to the fractured, celestial club chaos of Woman Call, each incarnation is a new frontier—and equal acts of both defiance and divine creation.

With unfiltered vulnerability and a dedication to their craft (both artistically and spiritually), Angel-Ho is beckoning a new era; continuing their charge for edifying entirely new states of performing and being. As they explain to me, “I was always a performer—since the age of four, really. I was that kid entertaining at family functions, always extroverted in that way. In primary school, I started doing theatre, and I was really good at it. By the time I was 11, I could already see and understand myself improving, which was exciting,” this tone set the proverbial and literal stage for Angel. “In high school, I started landing lead roles—Frankie Lerner in The Rocky Horror Picture Show, Edna Turnblad in Hairspray, Punk in District 6: The Musical—and I even performed Bad Romance as Lady Gaga with the Glee Club. It was so iconic! I wish I still had the footage, but all I have is a newspaper clipping.”

Images by Angel-Ho

For Angel-Ho, fashion was the next step in their ascent toward their artistic vision, reminiscing that “after school, I developed a huge interest in fashion. It felt like my own kind of luxury—wearing whatever made me feel good. I gravitated toward vintage pieces, finding incredible items at markets and stores like Second Time Around. Sometimes, even the cashiers didn’t want to sell me what I found! Fashion and music became intertwined for me. I was helping with a university fundraiser called Early Friday and decided to experiment with DJing. Performing has always been a big part of me, and DJing became another outlet for that.” RIP to Early Friday and The Waiting Room in general, which was part of so many of our creative segues in the early 2010s in Cape Town. So many DJs came out of the hard-wood floor enclave of this venue, as DJing’s accessibility through an aux cable and a laptop became noticeably clear. Suddenly, one’s music taste could mean something beyond a hobby— and music, partying and the vision of artistic expression all become one, beautiful (and sweaty) experience every Friday evening. 

As Angel shares, “I remember someone asking, ‘Who’s even taking this seriously?’ And in my head, I was like, I am! That moment made me realize how much I wanted to pursue it. Around that time, I was also DJing for Umlilo, which was amazing.” The self-described ‘intergalactic shape-shifting kwaai diva’ is similarly a patron saint of this time, and as Angel shares, Umlilo is foundational to their own lore; “I was so inspired by Umlilo and their music—I knew I wanted to make music too. I wanted to tell stories, to create gestures and movement that brought sound to life. Umlilo said to me, ‘why don’t you learn Ableton? So, I taught myself Ableton by treating it like a computer game. That approach made it feel intuitive. I started making experimental beats and put them on SoundCloud, and they really took off.”

Angel’s journey into the music world took an unexpected turn when their work caught the attention of Venus X, legendary founder of New York’s influential GHE20G0TH1K party. “One day, Venus X discovered my music. I had no idea who they were at the time, but they were huge. Rihanna used to go to their parties,” Angel recalls. Soon after, Venus X and Bobby Beethoven—now known for creating Mugler’s runway soundtracks—asked Angel to send over their edits. “Next thing I knew, they were playing my tracks in clubs across Europe and America.” 

This break opened doors to a larger experimental music scene, leading to collaborations with some of the industry’s most forward-thinking artists. “I was manifesting that Arca would mix and master my music,” Angel says, referencing the Venezuelan producer known for working with Kanye West and Björk. “Eventually, I connected with her through another incredible producer, Rabit, and ended up releasing my music on their label.” With a growing artistic vision, Angel co-founded NON, a music collective that reshaped club culture through a blend of sonic experimentation and political commentary. “For eight years, we were making music, we hosted pop-up parties in London, New York, and Berlin, working with artists like Chino Amobi and Nkisi,” and their influence stretched far beyond the underground. “NON was created to support the African diaspora and experimental sound art, which was so niche at the time. We brought that niche into the mainstream. Artists like Kelela were listening to us—we knew because she once posted a photo of her laptop screen, and in the open tabs was her own collective’s name.” 

As Angel’s career evolved, their focus expanded beyond sound into movement and performance; though given their relationship to fashion, self-expression was always central. “I released my first album with Hyperdub Records in the UK. Seven albums later, I became even more focused on storytelling in a mainstream sense, but also playing with performance binaries through Angel-Ho. It was all about opening up the boxes that we’re put into and saying, ‘Let’s dress up the doll.’”

Images by Angel-Ho

Reflecting on the evolution of hyperpop, Angel credits key figures who have been overlooked in mainstream conversations. “When I hear the word hyperpop, I immediately think of Lotic—Lotic J’Kerian from Berlin via Houston, Texas. Back in the day, she was releasing on Tri Angle Records. My first EP was already pushing those hyperpop boundaries—it was essentially a blueprint for what SOPHIE was doing later on. I was supposed to meet SOPHIE, but then she passed away. It was devastating. Afterward, MTV and Pitchfork reached out for commentary, but I didn’t know her personally—I couldn’t speak on it. It was just… surreal.” 

The genre, which has since gained global recognition, was built by a diverse and experimental group of artists. Today, ‘mainstream’ artists like FKA Twigs and Charlie XCX are inheritors of a long line of femme artists and activists. As Angel explains,  “I think the craft of hyperpop is understood best by what we did; Arca, myself, J’Kerian (Lotic), scraaatch (a performance art duo), Eric, and Elysia Crampton, who is Native American and a trans woman—so many trans women shaped this sound. It was crazy. At the time, we were all just kids with ideas. Then we evolved. It was this beautiful fusion of the feminine and the masculine, something cathartic in its chaos.”

Angel’s approach to music has always been unconventional, embracing experimentation over structured melodies; with hyperpop’s reverence for distortion as a reclamation of the ‘tidiness’ so often expected in music. “I couldn’t make music in key for so long—it was crazy! But people were still drawn to the experimentation, the feeling. I was kind of filling in a textbook of atonal singing and atonal beats. Everyone understands what an in-key song does—it makes you feel at ease, like, ‘Oh, I can listen to this.’ But some people don’t want to think anymore; they just want to escape. I’m so grateful that my music created that kind of escapism, even with its atonal nature.” 

The evolution of Angel’s artistry has been marked by transformation, though not in the way some might assume. With the introduction of a new figure in their expression, ‘Ange Madame’ was understood as a rebrand; now, as Angel clarifies, they’re more assured that “Angel-Ho and Ange Madame—it wasn’t actually a rebrand, in hindsight. It was more like… an organ donor. Angel-Ho is still the body. I changed my name back because there’s this trail of breadcrumbs that leads back to Angel-Ho. So, I can’t say it was a rebirth—it was just a shift, a way to step out of my comfort zone. I wanted to push myself into something new, to experiment with jazz, with persona, and what I could learn from that.” 

This sense of fluidity extends to Angel’s perspective on their own work, as I ask about one of their latest works, ‘Birth Becomes Her’; “Birth Becomes Her was a kind of prophecy. Music is prophecy, you know? We use our voices, our words—they’re spells. I was playing with the idea of Death Becomes Them, but I’ve always felt like my music moves in reverse. My first album was stripped down so much that it exists outside of time—when you listen to it now, it still sounds like it was made today. My whole career has felt like working backward, from the future into the past. I went to the darkest place—the end—and now I’m working my way back through the light.”

This suffusion of the esoteric and the material is something Angel has long explored in their music. “When I released Glitter Ain’t Gold on SoundCloud, I was working with esoteric themes, astrology, and merging them with the material—social politics, lived experience. But here’s the thing: there are astral gifts I know about, but I don’t feel like everyone is entitled to that part of me. I have to find a way to articulate it without giving everything away.” 

The mystical is always entwined with queerness—I have witnessed and understood this in my own experience as a writer and observer. Balancing personal mysticism with public expression is a challenge, and as I share my own journey with Angel, I recognise the familiar waters of mystery, particularly through what I understand as my own initiatory, psychosis experiences. Angel reflects on their own encounter with psychosis, describing it as both confusing and protective. “I realised that my legacy isn’t meant to be built on Grammys or mainstream popularity. If that happens, fine, but I’m not here to be ridiculed by the media or dragged into the pop machine. I’ve seen it happen to so many artists. Fame is traumatic. I feel for celebrities—people have constant access to them, even mentally. I went through that and realized: I don’t want that life. My peace, my quiet, that’s what matters.”

Their psychosis, triggered by cannabis, initially felt like an external force rather than an internal disruption. “I had a different understanding of the voice I was hearing—I genuinely believed it was someone speaking. I thought my neighbour was being rude and obnoxious. It was a mind game, and it was weird. On top of that, I was also experiencing racism—intense, crazy racism. At the time, I was living in Milnerton, in a complex of freestanding houses. There were hardly any people of colour in the neighbourhood.” The experience, and ultimately their healing and recovery process, has become a turning point, inspiring the song Diva High as a declaration of clarity and self-sufficiency. “I don’t need drugs to be high. I don’t need alcohol. I don’t need stimulants,” Angel emphasises,  “I’ve learned that lesson over the past six years. I’ve never skipped my medication once. I always took my meds, and eventually, after two years, things settled. People don’t realise that when you go through psychosis, you have to stick to your medication for two years before your body finally stabilises. After that, you can actually function normally again.” 

They nod to Beyoncé for affirming this realisation: “She said it best: I don’t need drugs for some freak shit. When I heard that, I resonated deeply.” This is an eternal truth for me too, now, and it is now a matter of asking; how do we reconstruct ourselves post-psychosis in a way that honours the lessons we learned while staying grounded in reality? How do we take those treasures and move forward in a healthy, sober, creative way? As Angel says, “for a while, I felt six years ahead of the creative consciousness, but I’ve since grounded myself. Now, I reference my past work instead of consuming too much pop culture. I try to withdraw and create from within. I think originality is about more than just references for me today, I’m more focused on tapping into my own experiences.”

Today, Angel is healing on multiple levels, stepping into a new chapter with clarity and intention. Their path is enshrined by a simple yet profound vision, and we can’t wait to see what comes next for Ange Madame, Angel-Ho and all the dimensions of self that they embody; “My vision for the future is staying present. Practicing radical self-care, and keeping my mind in control of my mind. Keeping my faith open and unwavering. Even when things don’t go as planned—like my Wi-Fi cutting out for hours today—I trust the process. I don’t stress. I move forward. My goal is simply to keep moving forward, no matter what life throws at me.”

STREAM ANGEL’S NEW EP ‘BREATHE AS IT FLOWS’ HERE

 

Written by Holly Beaton

 

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NTWANA Is South African Fashion’s Newest Vanguard

Mar 18, 2025 | Interviews, Fashion

South Africa is in the midst of a renaissance—an idea we discuss almost ad nauseam, not out of redundancy but necessity. It is critical to keep sharing, dissecting, and understanding this moment, because, as history tells us, all renaissances must eventually reach their peak—or at least plateau. And while I’ve never believed we were anywhere close to that point, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t considered the inevitability of it. Isn’t that the nature of a golden age? A brilliance that exists in a particular time and space?

It’s not every day that a fashion brand arrives fully formed, articulating itself with clarity and conviction. The arrival of NTWANA on the scene has quickly dispelled any slight doubt in the future of our luxury fashion expression, and the Johannesburg-based brand co-founded by Mikhail Brown and Mmiso Luphondo, has stepped into this landscape with remarkable precision. Their debut is not scattered, not tentative, but is instead anchored in a single, tungsten-strong product: that ostrich trench. A statement of intent, an object of obsession, a piece that feels both distinctly South African and completely untethered from expectation, the brand might still be working out its philosophical machinations; but, oh boy, is the instinct geared up in full throttle. Further to this labour of love between the two friends, is its name, derived from ‘sho ntwana’; their deeply personal greeting and a phrase so quintessentially South African. 

“NTWANA was really one of those moments where opportunity meets preparation—maybe even subconscious preparation,” Mikhail tells me. “I’ve always been someone who’s deeply into clothes, almost irrationally interested. Even when my friends or family weren’t, I just cared about how people wear clothes, why they wear them, and which clothes they choose.”

Episode collection by NTWANA, photographed by Paul Shiakallis

Episode collection by NTWANA, photographed by Paul Shiakallis

That kind of obsessive interest—the kind that persists even when it’s inconvenient, even when the world around you isn’t paying attention—is what ultimately shapes designers with vision, and yet, Mikhail didn’t always imagine himself in fashion. “I come from a generation where we told ourselves we were going to be bankers, lawyers, engineers. Chartered accounting was the big career move at the time, and I told myself that’s what I wanted to do. But deep down, I always just cared about clothes.” That contradiction—between what we tell ourselves is practical and what we are actually drawn to—feels particularly resonant in South Africa’s creative landscape. Fashion, in particular, is often dismissed as frivolous, an indulgence rather than an intellectual or cultural pursuit. For Mikhail, the weight of clothing transcends aesthetics. “I’ve always been obsessed with the psychology of clothes. Fashion is often dismissed as something frivolous, purely aesthetic. It’s psychological. It’s about identity, perception, and meaning.”

There’s an awareness in Mikhail’s words, a self-interrogation that suggests the subliminal sense behind, say, their ostrich trench, which had us all in chokehold: the brand decided on a singular thesis statement as an anchor for something bigger. The ostrich trench is the initial story— the prelude to the big bang, beckoning at NTWANA’s door. 

Despite the polished nature with which NTWANA has introduced itself, Mikhail is quick to acknowledge that this is still a process of discovery. I ask about his design philosophy, to which he muses; “If I’m being honest, I’m still figuring so many things out. I was in class today—I’m still a student. When people ask about my design philosophy, it feels like a fashion magazine question. I listen to a lot of Business of Fashion, I have so many Vogue magazines, but I don’t know if I have a perfectly crafted answer for that yet.” This honesty feels rare, especially in fashion, a highly competitive landscape that often demands its designers arrive fully formed, with a manifesto in hand. Maybe, just maybe, the most interesting brands are the ones willing to admit they’re still in motion?

A single garment, no matter how striking, cannot sustain a brand forever. Mikhail understood this instinctively. Recently, NTWANA released ‘Episode’; its first collection, and a cohesive dissection of the original idea of the ostrich as the brand’s current fabrication focus. Mikhail notes, “‘Episode’ was a culmination of a few things. About a year after our coats first launched, they were received really well—like, really well. But I realised we needed to do something new. Otherwise, we’d be known only as ‘the coat brand.’ I could feel the buzz reaching a plateau, and I didn’t want that.” For a self-funded brand, the stakes are even higher. “We don’t have a financial backer, so I needed to create a collection that was strong but also financially viable. We had already sold in Paris, and our coats debuted in Berlin, so we knew the European market liked what we were doing. Even though we’re proud to be a South African brand, it made sense to focus deliberately on Europe because of our price point.”

This pragmatic approach speaks to Mikhail and Mmiso’s understanding of their moment; yet it doesn’t dilute the personal core of Episode. If anything, the collection is deeply autobiographical. “If you look at the collection, it’s very autumn/winter heavy. It was inspired by my life around 2018–2019—specifically, my nights and mornings from that time. I was a pretty hard partier, and all the bad and beautiful things that come with that lifestyle influenced the collection. It felt like I was living in a kind of Groundhog Day, where every night was a repeat of the last. That’s why I called it ‘Episode’—we used to joke, ‘Where are the cameras?’ because life felt like a never-ending series of episodes. It was life imitating art, imitating life.”

Episode collection by NTWANA, photographed by Paul Shiakallis

Episode collection by NTWANA, photographed by Paul Shiakallis

Episode as a collection isn’t interested in glossing over the reality of its foundational inspiration, “at that time, the junkies were very chic. I’ll just say it—they were the most stylish people in Joburg, and that’s what inspired Episode.” NTWANA’s broader ethos, then, is seemingly an unfiltered understanding of how the best style emerges from the streets and from the margins. There is no naivety here to Mikhail’s vision and life experience— instead, the brand’s guiding principle showcases an acute awareness of how beauty and destruction often exist in tandem, and how this is perhaps the juncture point from which all the wildest, most unbridled moments in design tend to occur from. 

NTWANA didn’t begin with a business plan or a pitch deck. It wasn’t built in boardrooms or strategised for a market. It was born in grief, in instinct, and the co–founders unshakable pull toward something more. Mikhail and Mmiso started this brand during a difficult time, as Mikhail shares, “my mom had just passed away, and I was isolating myself. Mmiso was one of the few people who kept showing up—coming to my house every week, sometimes twice a week. At that point, I’d stopped partying and, as a result, wasn’t socialising much.” Fashion became a way for Mmiso to help shift Mikhail’s grieving process, “we were both obsessed with fashion—especially Balenciaga at the time—and Mmiso kept telling me about this fabric store. He’d seen Thebe (Magugu) and Nao (Serati) there and kept pushing me to go. He’d already been making suits for himself, and eventually, he convinced me to come with him. That’s when I found the material. I wasn’t even thinking about starting a brand—I just wanted to make a really cool coat.”

Leather trenches were everywhere at the time, but this had to be different. “When I saw the fabric, I knew I had to make a trench coat, but I needed it to exist in a completely different dimension. Thebe had done a pink ostrich coat—I think it’s in the Zeitz MOCAA archives now—and exotic leather was definitely having a moment. I was about to go to Berlin, and I had to get into Berghain. I just knew—this coat was going to get me in.” Berghain, Berlin’s most infamous nightclub, is as much a cultural institution as it is a fortress of hedonism—its elusive door policy and almost mythological aura making it the holy grail of nightlife for the city, and the first part of the battle is its notorious dismissal of attendees based on ‘vibe’ and ‘appearance’. “Even though there was a heatwave, I insisted on wearing it. I wore it to Berghain, and it shut Berghain down. It absolutely killed. The crowd—six-foot South Korean girls in Jean Paul Gaultier durags and Ottolinger—but my coat still stole the show. People kept asking me about it, and the response was purely about the piece.”

That’s when Mikhail knew they were onto something. No marketing, no hype—just a coat that spoke for itself, that was self-pronouncing and explicit, “the coat started making the rounds, people were wearing it, and we didn’t even have an Instagram profile picture. Still, we gained thousands of followers. We hadn’t registered a company yet—I was still in school—but I knew I had to keep up with it. The momentum was insane, and the international response was immediate.”

Success doesn’t come without its pressures, particularly with Mikhail going back to school to study fashion so he could give NTWANA the best chance possible to flourish. “Fashion school is not cheap. Life isn’t cheap. Running a fashion brand is not cheap. So it’s a lot of pressure, a lot of pressure. But at the same time, it is so rewarding. Whenever I recommit myself to Ntwana, it commits to me. It helps me. We only went through our first financial year at the end of last year. Infancy is an understatement—we are embryonic.” 

The South African fashion landscape is shifting and as we both point out, NTWANA stands on the shoulders of giants now. It’s the likes of Lukhanyo Mdingi, Thebe Magugu, Wanda Lephoto and more, who have opened the door for Mikhail and Mmiso to even conceive of NTWANA as a potential leader in the next wave. “I feel like there needs to be a generational shift. We have the greats—Thebe, Lukhanyo, Wanda. It’s time for the next phase of South African fashion. Just like how, after Dior, there was Saint Laurent—that is what’s happening in South Africa. Especially in Joburg, we are having a renaissance. This is Paris in the 1920s. The time is now, we are in the thick of it.”

NTWANA’S vision is that expansion is inevitable. Mikhail is still in his third year of school, and “we want to extend the ‘Episode’ range to more summer pieces. We had heat waves at the end of last year, and we just didn’t have a horse in the race. I’m working on a deluxe edition of NTWANA with very talented collaborators. I already have the first three or four collections written down. I’ve started researching them. It’s just about preparing and meeting opportunities so we can really expand our universe, and properly flesh out the characters and themes. ‘Episode’ was just a glimpse into a small moment of a larger narrative.”

“We have interest from the U.S., which I never expected. That market is daunting, and the political climate is crazy. But we’re taking things one step at a time. There’s a universe we want to expand.” And if NTWANA’s trajectory so far is anything to go by, that universe is multi-dimensional, and the next chapter for NTWANA is being written in real time. As Mikhail balances school, design, and the realities of running an independent brand, the trajectory is both uncertain and inevitable; with the precision of NTWANA’s debut and the depth of its storytelling suggest a label with so, so much more to say.

Perhaps that is what our renaissance requires to maintain its momentum; for designers to continue insisting that South African fashion belong at its helm. 

 

Written by Holly Beaton

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