
Think about your last shopping spree and how much you spent. Unless you’re a real housewife of Atlanta, you’re probably not keeping up with Mustafa Mohammed. The 28-year-old engineering and computer science grad details a recent trip
Lebanon. “I blew four grand in 10 days,” he admits sheepishly, “I probably spent $25,000 this year on clothes.”
When sharing his fashion influences, he names his sister, who loves 70s and 80s vintage clothing and used to wear short skirts on the streets of Baghdad. I’m surprised, but Mohammed explains that in the 50s, 60s, and 70s, Iraqi was very liberal. “Women wore short skirts,” he says, “It was like any other Western country.”
Medical care necessitated a six-year relocation to London in the 80s after Mohammed drank bleach as a toddler. “I wanted to be
Michael Jackson,” he jokes. But his family returned to Baghdad where his sister continued working leather minis until about 1990. That’s when his native land became less fashion forward. “I can’t carry a bag,” he says, “after 2003, no rings or bracelets.”
Asked for a key designer, Mohammed rolls out an exhaustive list. “I love the vintage you can find in New York City,” he says, “vintage Gucci, Versace and Dior.” I’m almost onto the next question, but he holds up his hand. “I like Prada for suits, Vuitton for wallets, Versace and D&G for belts,” he continues, “for jeans I like Diesel and Robin’s Jean. And I like Mason and Ben Sherman for shoes.”
Ben Sherman? Isn’t that where shavs shop to dress up their East End blokes? “The have great shoes,” he replies, “you should
check them out.” But he’s not finished. “I like Bottega for bags and Tumi for more formal ones. I just bought a gorgeous Tumi bag for about $400. Oh, and I like Josef Aboud for scarves.”
He’s ready to move onto gloves, but I want to know what he thinks of
Jerk magazine, which recently ran an opinion piece on the politics behind the keffiyeh, a traditional Middle-Eastern cotton headdress that
The Independent called “a symbol of Islamic militancy.” Arafat wore one, and Rachel Ray and Ricky Martin also got into hot water for theirs.

“The keffiyeh has nothing to do with Palestine,” he begins, “it is part of the traditional dress of many Arab countries in the Persian Gulf: Iraq, Syria, Lebanon.” He has keffiyehs in several colors he used to wear to high school. He pauses, then asks, “The P.L.O wears pants, too, should we stop wearing pants?”