Kirsten Koza’s Burqa Project

Burqa Bound: Travelling alone in my burqa had expected and unexpected challenges. Simple everyday tasks such as walking and not walking into pillars, peeing, counting change, taking a photo, or having a meal were a sweaty tangled battle between woman and robe.

Unexpectedly, I’ve never been so disrobed by stares in my life. Could it be that the burqa is sexier than tight jeans or a miniskirt? Everyone with a good imagination bared me, even when I wasn’t accidentally baring myself. My burqa caused earthquakes somewhere, surely.

In the above photo (at breezy Pearson International Airport) my costume failure left my forehead exposed through the eye-mesh. Blinded, I shouted instructions at the uncomfortable photographer I’d conscripted. The man took a shot and fled. I wish I hadn’t been wearing pants.

 

(above photos: self-portrait in burqa with Sorel boots and no pants, and skiing badly in burqa)

 

 

TwitterFacebookGoogle+PinteresttumblrRedditEmail