Muslim Garb

A week ago I finally purchased an abayya.  Not to be confused with a burqa or hijab, an abayya is a long-sleeved, floor-length, loose black robe.  In most countries on the Arabian Peninsula, the abayya is worn with any variety or hair or face covering and is the standard for modest dress for women in public.  It’s one of those things that comes under criticism from people who see it as a sign of oppression –“Muslim garb,” to borrow Juan Williams’ term, that women should be able to cast off as shackles of an outdated system.

I won’t lie, I find the abayya very uncomfortable.  I’m always stepping on the front (making the buttons snap open in an Omani style peep-show) and re-adjusting my scarf, which manages to make the already-oppressive heat here seem worse.  However, men here face similar problems.  They are required, by custom and (in certain contexts) law, to wear the disdasha -a long-sleeved, ankle-length tunic that buttons tightly at the neck.  It’s always accompanied with a head-covering, too.  In the Emirates and Saudi Arabia men wear large scarves as turbans or fastened tightly around the crown with more cloth, and in Oman men wear tall embroidered caps, called kumma, often with a cashmere scarf wrapped tightly around the top.  Disdashas are generally white, it’s true, but did you see the bit where the scarf was cashmere?  Cashmere.  In the Arabian Peninsula.  Men here have to dress almost as uncomfortably and impractically as women. 

Additionally, abayyas are actually not a bad vehicle for self-expression.  The patterns vary wildly, as to the fabric choices, embellishments, and scarves.  My scarf, with bright-blue zebra print and super-imposed pink, yellow, and orange flowers, actually makes me look more Omani than not, and is downright subtle compared to some of the rhinestone-encrusted scarves I’ve seen.  Some abayyas are trimmed in patterned fabric, others have long, billowing sleeves, and quite a few are decorated with, again, the ever-present rhinestones.

I don’t envy the women here who would rather not wear one.  There is a lot of societal pressure for Muslim, Omani women to wear the abayya, and even cover their entire face in more conservative areas.  But the men who would rather not wear their “Muslim garb” are shit-outta-luck, too, and in the four weeks I’ve been here I’ve only heard one woman say anything about how upset her father would be if she wasn’t covered properly.  Most of the time, it’s women who compliment my new conservative look, who get excited to see a westerner dressing like them, and who say “throw on your abayya, we’re going out.”