Last year, I embarked on a personal and cultural journey that turned into a fashion movement.
As the Founder and Principal of The Fashion Museum, I’ve always believed in fashion as more than aesthetics — it’s identity, memory, and meaning. But I wanted to do something different. I wanted to explore fashion not just as a curator or academic, but as a participant. So I turned the lens on myself and launched a digital style project called 30 Days of Adire.
The concept was simple: wear and style one Adire look every day for 30 days. But the heart of it ran much deeper. Adire — a traditional Yoruba textile art using wax-resist dyeing techniques — has always held space in Nigerian fashion, especially in towns like Abeokuta, Osogbo, and Ibadan. It’s rich in history, craftsmanship, and symbolism, yet it’s often sidelined in everyday wear conversations.
I wanted to change that.
Each day, I styled Adire pieces from contemporary African designers and documented the process on Instagram. From structured blazers layered with hand-dyed fabrics, to flowy kaftans in modern silhouettes, I wasn’t just showcasing outfits — I was making a case for Adire as wearable heritage. This wasn’t a costume. This was fashion. Real fashion.
And the response? Electric.
Comments poured in:
“Teju, this is so beautiful ”
“Always radiating! Love this ”
“Weldone Tejumola. I’ve been inspired by this project.”
“Give me 14 of them!”
People weren’t just double-tapping. They were learning, connecting, reminiscing — even reimagining what was possible in their own wardrobes. The project sparked conversations on cultural pride, sustainable African fashion, and the importance of documenting and styling African textiles for a modern audience.
What made it even more special was the wide designer representation. I styled Adire pieces from brands like Dye Lab, Emmy Kasbit, Ara Lagos, and Ejiro Amos Tafiri, showing how differently — and beautifully — this textile could be interpreted. Whether it was tailored, oversized, feminine, experimental, or minimal, Adire proved itself over and over again as timeless yet adaptable.
And it wasn’t just about the clothes. It was about visibility. About rooting fashion storytelling in us. About shifting how we see tradition — not as old, but as evolving. As something we can wear to the office, the art gallery, Sunday brunch, or a red carpet.
“30 Days of Adire” became more than a series. It became a love letter to Yoruba heritage and a living archive of style possibilities. For me, it was about honoring the past while styling the present — and it became one of the most rewarding experiences of my career.
What’s Next?
This year, I’m building on that foundation with a brand new project: 30 Days of African Woven Textiles. We’re expanding beyond Adire to explore other handwoven fabrics from across the continent — strip weaving, Aso Oke, Kente, Mudcloth, and more — again styled for everyday, contemporary wear.
If “30 Days of Adire” showed us that our heritage is still very much alive, this next series will show how deeply interconnected, rich, and future-facing African fashion truly is.
Thank you to everyone who joined me last year — who watched, commented, learned, and styled along. Let’s do it again, but even bigger.