At age 10, Ola Labib began wearing the hijab, not out of a profound religious awakening but inspired by a group of stylish older girls from the Gulf who joined her Saturday Islamic school. Living in a small English seaside town where few people looked like her, Labib was drawn to the confidence and chic presentation of these newcomers. Despite her mother’s suggestion to wait until she was older, Labib started wearing the hijab the following week, finding in it a sense of belonging and self-expression.
However, her choice sparked immediate challenges. When she returned to her mainstream primary school donning a white hijab, her peers met her with insensitive questions and comments that underscored her sudden visibility and difference. Labib, who prior to this had largely blended into the background despite being the only non-white student, found herself navigating new social dynamics defined by misunderstanding and scrutiny.
As she progressed into secondary school in the early 2000s, the tensions intensified. Surrounded by peers experimenting with fashion trends and beauty standards, Labib’s uniform of blue trousers, a cardigan, and a matching hijab stood in stark contrast. Lacking conventional markers of popularity, she relied on her humor and personality to engage with others.
Her university years represented a turning point both personally and stylistically. Studying pharmacy while aspiring to creative fields such as fashion design and writing, Labib continued to live at home in the same town. She balanced different modes of dress depending on context—modest attire around family contrasted with more contemporary styles among friends—while maintaining the hijab as a constant. This dual existence reflected her broader experience as a Sudanese Muslim in the diaspora, negotiating multiple identities amid cultural and social pressures.
Labib describes a persistent tension between external perceptions and internal identity. To some outside her community, her hijab signified a lack of assimilation into British culture, while some within her community criticized her for embracing styles perceived as too Western. This scrutiny led to a continuous process of adapting her appearance to fit various expectations.
Eventually, Labib rejected these pressures, resolving to dress for herself rather than for approval. Discovering brands that reconcile modesty with style broadened her fashion choices and affirmed that the two are not mutually exclusive. She now embraces diverse outfits—from vintage tracksuits paired with leather skirts to traditional Sudanese garments and accessories—asserting control over her representation.
Labib acknowledges ongoing challenges in a climate of rising Islamophobia, where the hijab often becomes a sole marker overshadowing individual expression or fashion. She questions the societal impulses to fit into narrow, exclusionary definitions of identity and insists on the importance of self-definition.
In her debut book, "How Not to Lead a Double Life," published on July 9, Labib shares her journey of self-acceptance through the lens of clothing and community, aiming to inspire others, particularly young women, to find belonging and beauty on their own terms. Through her story, she underscores that personal narrative and agency, rather than outside judgments, shape one’s path.