Menswear in the Arabian Peninsula
I recently traveled to the Arabian Peninsula, and while I had some prior knowledge of the culture, experiencing it firsthand was truly fantastic. Men commonly wear a kandura or thawb - a long-sleeved, ankle-length robe - daily, in both formal and informal settings. The kandura, specific to the UAE, is always white and serves as a symbol of national pride, reflecting values like humility and unity. The thawb, on the other hand, is a more generic term used across different regions and encompasses various local styles.
Within a day menswear took on a completely different meaning for me, and many of my Western clothing beliefs were upended. Notably, these garments are unbranded and they all look quite similar. The fabrics may differ, but behind each garment there is a story of craftsmanship. Inevitably, I began thinking about the evolution of menswear in the Western world and where, along the way, we lost these values.
The tailor's role and sartorial skills used to be vital. Clothes were made to measure, or made using patterns that replicated older models. Fabrics were either purchased separately or directly from the tailor’s shop. Most of this tailoring and sartorial works happened at home. Alternatively, everyday garments were made from sturdy, long-lasting fabrics - unbranded, but marked by the production company’s label and could be found in designated stores.
Over the years, we’ve learned to move faster. We reach products more quickly, and communication has accelerated to the point where we use fiber-optic cables and cloud technology to stay connected. In this race, we've lost the patience to wait for a pair of trousers to be tailored - instead, we buy them in bulk. The role of the tailor has all but vanished, replaced by brand and logo dominance. Garments that once served a specific purpose have become generic items for daily wear. More often than not, our choices are driven by logos rather than by quality or functionality.
I’ve always been fascinated by subcultures and the invisible threads that connect people across time and place. Often, this connection is formed through shared values -llike the appreciation of a well-crafted item, attention to material and detail, or the pursuit of original garments from a particular era. This sense of connection crosses borders and transcends nationality. It lives in history, and more specifically, in the history of menswear - particularly from the 1920s onward.
I like to call it belonging.
Today, I want to focus on the 1940s–50s: workwear, raw denim, t-shirts, Henley shirts, Type 1 denim jackets, and bandanas. Interestingly, within this extended “family,” there are no borders. To be period correct often requires research and study. Wearing these garments became a gateway to the time when they were contemporary. The Middle East is just as involved in these subcultural movements as any other countries, offering a broader and deeper selection of garments. Wearing workwear denim, a Type 1 jacket, and a white t-shirt - the same outfit Marlon Brando wore in The Wild One - can carry the same significance as wearing a kandura.
If there’s one thing my trip has confirmed, it’s that menswear is deeply varied, rich in meaning, and more interconnected than it appears. It also left me with lingering questions about where Western mass production is headed - and what we may be leaving behind in the process.
And yes -of course- I also rode motorcycles. They leave no room for interpretation.
Clutch, gear, throttle.
