What being a Muslim in Australia is really like
WE speak to four Aussie women — a comedian, a fashion blogger, a TV content producer and a social worker — about what being Muslim means to them.
FROM comics to TV editors, four women reveal what it means to be young and Muslim in Australia today.
THE FASHION BLOGGER
Delina Darusman-Gala is desperately trying to cut down on what she calls her “little scarf habit”.
“I have over 100 of them, so it’s probably out of control. I can’t help myself — every time I go into Witchery or Seed, there they are, begging me to buy them!” she laughs.
The 30-year-old fashion blogger, designer and mother of three might be feeling the pinch of her extravagant habit but says, unlike other addictions, hers does come with one handy advantage: “They’re the ultimate conversation starter! My non-Muslim mates are always amazed at how quickly I make friends with strangers, but that’s because I’ve got something different going on that encourages others to come up and start chatting to me.”
In a media landscape where Islam is more likely to go hand in hand with ISIS coverage than fashion — “or anything else that’s positive,” says Darusman-Gala — her blog, Muslim Street Fashion has piqued the interest of media outlets worldwide, with magazines and newspapers clamouring to know more about the stylish lady who artfully “hijab-ifes” what the Hollywood set are wearing for her mainstream Muslim followers. (Nicole Richie is a favourite, because she’s “ridiculously easy to hijab-ify,” according to Darusman-Gala.)
“Obviously, the way I dress and style is in line with my beliefs,” she says, adding that it’s often about being clever with layering options. “I tend to wear a lot of long, loose dresses and skirts, but if I wear pants, I always team them with a long top that goes down to my knees.” And style stalking on Instagram? Always recommended.
Darusman-Gala admits it’s a long way from Sydney’s Bondi Beach, where she enjoyed a quintessential “Aussie” childhood before embracing hijab in high school, but says she wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Wearing hijab connects me to my religion and fills me with a sense of peace, but underneath it all I’m just like any other thirty-something woman trying to make the most of her life and career,” she says. “The only difference between you and me? I just happen to have a scarf addiction.”
THE SOCIAL WORKER
Neslihan Kurtonal is aware she doesn’t ft neatly into any of the stereotypical Muslim boxes. Her wild hair whips around her face freely and her sleeveless tops reveal a tattoo on her bicep, inviting many to question if she is even sure she is a Muslim. She’s pretty certain that she is, but happily admits it’s a response largely dependent on definition.
“I was raised in a Turkish household, so I identify culturally as a Muslim, but I’m not observant in the traditional sense,” she says. “To be honest, I think it’s all about the good deeds you do on a daily basis rather than how many times a day you pray.” And where this 34-year-old is concerned, it’s good deeds aplenty.
When Kurtonal isn’t chasing after her two young daughters and working as a factory hand two days a week, she’s studying to be a social worker and volunteering her time at One Billion Rising Parramatta, an organisation that raises funds for the victims of domestic violence and their associated shelters for women and children.
Her quest to help other women is personal, stemming from the death of a classmate at the hands of her husband, but suggest to Kurtonal that perhaps a sense of Islamic duty pushes her on and she bristles.
“Well, the Koran certainly taught me to respect others and pay it forward, but I don’t know that this is about ‘acting like a Muslim’,” she says flatly. “It’s about being a decent human being.” Her take on personal style is also unequivocally no-nonsense, admitting that most of what she wears is dictated by what kind of activities her girls have on any given day. “I mostly dress for comfort and speed, but I’ll wear low-cut if the occasion suits, because I don’t think it’s my responsibility if others can’t handle that,” she says firmly.
“At the end of the day, I know I’m a good person. The kind of clothes I choose to wear has nothing to do with who I am and what I achieve in my day-to-day, and this isn’t true only of Muslims but of all women.”
THE STAND-UP COMIC
If there’s one thing this 37-year-old mother of three (soon to be four) has learnt from doing the rounds of Sydney’s comedy circuit, it’s that nothing defuses racial tension as quickly as humour. “People are always asking me, ‘Why do you wear a headscarf?’ ‘Does your husband force you?’” says Frida Deguise of the hijab she put on at the age of 23. “I say, ‘No, I’m having a bad hair day — and, besides, where else do you think I hide all my explosives?’”
Deguise, who was born into a moderate Lebanese family, is an observant Muslim who prays five times a day and says a sense of humour has kept her sane as she’s navigated the worlds of stand-up and fashion. By anyone’s definition she is wildly successful.
Her Roxcii eveningwear label is available in nine countries and she was a finalist in the Miss Universe National Costume Competition (this year’s Miss Australia won best gown in a Roxcii dress). Everywhere she goes, though, the face-value judgement follows.
“There isn’t a person alive who would look at me and think I was into fashion, I’m that much of a dag,” she says. Her wardrobe mainstays are black pants and long cardigans, but what she wears has nothing to do with her religion and everything to do with body confidence, she says. “I take great joy in wearing hijab … but if I had the body, perhaps I’d be a bit more ‘out there’ with my clothing choices,” she admits. “I’m just going to have to live out my sartorial fantasies through my customers.”
THE TV CONTENT EDITOR
Ask television content editor Abi Moustafa to describe herself, and you’re in for a treat.
“Well, I’m half-Lebanese and half-Syrian, so I’m probably about as Middle Eastern as you can get,” she begins.
Moustafa says she identifies as a feminist first (“There’s no doubt in my mind men and women are equal”), a gym freak second and, oh yeah — still single at the ripe old age of 24, she has deduced she’s already over the hill when it comes to getting married. “Puh-lease! In Arab terms, I’m long gone,” she deadpans.
Moustafa is a sharp and opinionated twenty-something media type — who is also a practising Muslim. “I’m moderate, as in I only pray once a day, but I adhere to the values and customs of my faith,” she says. “In fact, I’m probably a more accurate representation of who the average Australian Muslim is compared to what you’re likely to see in the news.”
Islamic style is at the forefront of Moustafa’s mind, but not for the reasons you’d expect. Although reluctant to go on public record as being in agreement with anything Palmer United Party Senator Jacqui Lambie has to say (“She really is a national joke”), Moustafa admits that even as a Muslim she, too, finds the burqa confronting.
“The Koran says we should dress modestly, so I find it hard to accept this interpretation of ‘modest’, but at the same time I also believe in a woman’s right to choose,” she says. “If a woman can walk around in a bikini, who are we to say you can’t walk around in a burqa?”
Her own wardrobe — a mishmash of denim staples and short-sleeved basics — is conservative for her age group, but she says it has nothing to do with dressing for her religion and everything to do with keeping things classy.
“I’m a big believer in time-and-place dressing,” she says. “Short shorts are fine if you’re at the beach, but they’re an absolute no-go for an office environment if you want to be taken seriously. And, believe me, I plan to be taken seriously.”
Follow Dilvin on Twitter @dilvinyasa. Download the Sunday Style app here.