Hot veiled women

Asra Q. Nomani attends a fashion show for devout Muslim women at Nordstrom.

Many women interpret the idea of "hijab"—the term comes from the Arabic word "hajaba," which is translated as "to cover," and is used generally to refer to modesty, and more specifically, to mean headscarves and formless gowns—quite liberally. They wear Diane Von Furstenberg mini-dresses over Levi jeans or rapper-style do-rags as headscarves. Other women don scarves by designers such as Christian Dior, Hermes, Gucci, and Dolce & Gabbana. And even the traditional dress is no longer black and shapeless but comes in various cuts, colors, patterns, and textures: slim-cut, baggy, silk, chiffon, fringed, fur-cuffed, hand-painted, and even embroidered with rhinestones and feathers.

A couple of years ago when I was working at a state university that had a large Muslim population, there were about six girls who used to come to the library regularly. They wore a kind of uniform: Jeans, a blouse or sweater and a tailored blazer in a soft color. Covering their heads were scarves in colors complementing the jacket and blouse. They looked rather fab, actually. Modest, but attractive.

One day around lunchtime I was standing outside the library taking in the sun when the revolving door disgorged the Muslim girls one by one in their colorful scarves and jackets. The last person out the door was a tiny black figure, wearing a sack from the top of her head to her toes, the only opening around her eyes out of which protruded a decidedly unfashionable pair of glass. She looked like a bedraggled baby crow in a flock of peacocks. Poor thing.

The little crow represents the ideal of Muslim womanhood for some, however.

[T]he most puritanical Muslims would say that hijab is not meant to be flashy. According to these men and women, it's supposed to be the sartorial equivalent of a burlap sack, not a trimly tailored Anne Klein jacket. It's supposed to be black, not trendy colors like fuchsia and teal. Preachers from New Jersey to California rail at the pulpit against women who put too much fashion in their hijab. To quote one rant on a conservative Muslim Web site: "Everyday we see our Muslim sisters proudly displaying names and initials on their clothing. … What are they advertising? CD, YSL, D&G,"—as in Christian Dior, Yves Saint Laurent and Dolce & Gabbana—"How ironic that the most modest of dressing—the cloak and scarf—should become contaminated by advertising the names of some of the most shameless and perverted people in the world."