Change on the runway

It’s a racist question. But one cannot help but ask Ugochi Igwilo, India’s first black model, “How many times do you get approached for drugs?” “I haven’t,” says the 23-year-old with a laugh. “Maybe it’s because of the way I carry myself. Or because I have Indian friends.”

Igwilo was a quiet surprise at the recently-concluded Lakmé Fashion Week (LFW) in Mumbai. She was first spotted at the opening Sabyasachi show — tall, lithe, determined jaw leading her strong walk. Then she was everywhere, with her bleached blonde, kinky, closely cropped hair.

Igwilo, a Nigerian national, has been living in India for five-and-a-half years. She is an important statement in a world that still relies on eastern European models who can pass off as Indians. They are the dominant notion of beauty — fair, with dark brown or black hair, sharp nosed, soft jaw and almond-shaped dark eyes. We see them modelling indigenous clothing brands such as Cotton World and W. They are omnipresent in print and TV ads — to sell skin and beauty products. They are just as prolific on the ramp.

India may have been a friend, philosopher and guide to Nelson Mandela’s fight against Apartheid, but its people have not been friendly to Africans living here. People of the race are suspected of drug dealing, violence and piracy. In March, Sharad Yadav, president of Janata Dal (United), said of south Indian women in the Rajya Sabha, “The women of the south are dark but they are as beautiful as their bodies.” The give-away conjunction is ‘but’.

In 2008, two black cheerleaders from the UK were racially abused and prevented from performing at an event connected to the Indian Premier League Twenty20 tournament. The ‘N’ word was used. A 2013 article by Mumbai Mirror trailed the city’s coloured residents to witness their daily struggles — they are asked to pay upfront before meals in restaurants, denied entry to small shops and pubs, face housing troubles and are arbitrarily asked to show their passports in public places. Like Igwilo, most people of colour living in India rely heavily on their friendship with Indians to soothe daily turbulence.

So Igwilo’s inclusion in a major fashion event is an important sign. She first came to Amity University in Noida to study interior design. “My father imports medical supplies to India and he suggested that I study here.” She started modelling at college-level fashion shows. “In college, there was always excitement around me,” she says. Her classmates and hostel mates were friendly, but she admits she didn’t get asked out by Indian boys. She says, “I think it’s because Indian guys like to date Indian girls. It was not a problem.” Contrarily, we know, a Caucasian girl would have to fend them off with a chappal .

Igwilo started modelling when her parents persuaded her. “My family and friends told me I am tall, thin and beautiful, so I should give it a try,” she says. After she completed her course, she interned with an interior design firm for two years and then returned on a work visa to resume modelling professionally.

LFW operates with two model pools — one for the main show area, where the established designers show; and another smaller area, which exhibits capsule collections by designers for online retailers, and clothes by upcoming designers. She tried for the first group and was selected. “I think designers want something different,” she says. And she would not be wrong. Igwilo’s stance, hair and skin colour elevated ornate Indian clothes, such as Anamika Khanna’s bandhgala with a flouncy ghagra.

Before venturing into Lakmé, Igwilo walked the ramp for students of fashion colleges such as National Institute of Fashion Technology. While model coordinators clamoured to be her agent, they were always frank. “The response was positive but they wanted me to understand that the market is run by European and Indian models, so I don’t wonder why I am not getting work,” says the Delhi resident. But for now Igwilo seems content with the limelight. “LFW has just concluded. We’ll see...” she says.

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