People like colour. It’s nice to look at, pleasant to decorate with. People like it, but few live their lives by it. And so many men, straight men particularly seem to be frightened by it. How would it look? What would people think of me? Questions a group of Sowetan youngsters, who go by the name of ‘The Smarteez’ as some sort of nod to the colourful sweets of the same name, would never dare ask. They’re far too busy fluffing their plumes to care about politics, offering instead a ‘Fuck You’ attitude if questioned on their position on their post-apartheid freedom. Simply stated, Sibu believes “It’s my freedom to take for granted.”Kepi, Sibu. Floyd and Thabo, the “humble crew” that make up ‘The Smarteez’ hit Market street with native photographer Chris Saunders and Rod Stanley as part of a short film for Dazed Magazine. These young aspiring designers remind me of the Dandies of Congo, who approach their individual expression in the same way. And yet so easily, too. DIY clothing in many of the modern styles but seemingly with more pizazz than our Fashion Week friends snapped up in Milan and New York. It's arguably more of a feat to impress with your own creations than to simply afford all the beautiful fabrics and designs so many can't get their hands on. New blogs from every corner of the globe are constantly popping up. We are no longer solely impressed by high end fashion, when even teenagers can simply publish new and odd photographs daily of their own DIY gear, giving designers a run for their money.'The Smarteez' might be painting images of themselves as "designers" and "models" while enjoying the attention the world has showered on them, but what I believe to be truer is the underlying message they have. If they can live their lives in all the colours of the rainbow, walk out on to Sowetan streets and face looks and comments of disapproval day after day, you in your plain collared shirt and jeans can implement the smallest dashes of colour to your wardrobe too. And you know what? You might actually enjoy it.
