3rab "Girls on Film"
I never see no Arab girls supermodeling on the international catwalk.
(Invitation for someone to chime-to-the-rescue and negate this post)
You see, I have a theory about why we can’t model properly: (why there’s an unnaturalness to our striken pose, the wrong swing to our swagger) crippling insecurity.
Imagine a control-situation without the restraints of societal reasoning.
Then it comes down to the more primal impulses to protect-le-face.
It’s the sort of ‘baba’s watching’ paranoia that makes you contort yourself into awkward stations-of-the-moss and duck everytime a Nokia Nseries is pointed in your general vacinity.
At some point over the course of those interminable 30 seconds on stage, standing prone before 2000 locals with a 50-foot live-cast of my face overhead I realized that a part of my ‘win’ was due to the fact that none of the other… female-persuaded … in our videomaking workshops at the Doha Tribeca Film Festival would allow themselves to be photographed.
At one point during our audience with Martin Scorsese, a-girl-who-shall-remain-unnamed and who had put down her niqab special for the occaission turned to me and said, “Scorcese will remember me this way. He’s going to know me as the oppressed one.”
I sat for a moment, trying to anchor my sliding shala and wished I woulda thought of it…in the same way but not really how I wish I woulda thought of this: