![]() ![]() And that’s what Ramzan is for me, even more than feeding oneself and others with generosity and kindness: making others feel at home. Without even knowing it, I had made a space for her to be the type of Muslim she wanted to be. But when I came to your house and saw you and your partner serving everyone food, I realized that there are a lot of different ways of being Muslim, and I knew that people would accept me.” She said to me, “When I first arrived in the United States, I wasn’t sure how people would respond to my hijab, so I wore my hair under the cap. The next week she came back, this time wearing a hijab. My partner and I thought it humorous, but no one said anything. She was wearing traditional dress but had all her hair tucked up under a baseball cap. One day a visiting scholar from Indonesia came. Word slowly spread, and our dinners of five or six grew to 20 to 30 people. One year, I held iftars for all the Muslim students at the college where I used to teach. ![]() That includes hosting iftar, with my partner, to cultivate a place where I can both feel a sense of belonging and extend that to others. I haven’t always felt part of conventional Muslim spaces, but I’ve learned to create my own communities during Ramzan. My answer to the “practicing” question is usually “yes, but not in the way that you think.” It’s an answer that surprises people. It was not a “schism” but a natural flow from a source. After some core basic beliefs, different communities had different approaches. Immediately upon its founding there were variants. They may also, by implication, be asking me if I am a “compliant” Muslim. What they want to know usually is, do I eat “halal” or do I pray five times a day, the answer to both of which is no. ![]() When people ask me if I am a “practicing” Muslim, I often do not know how to answer. When I fast, I am reminded how individual I am, how my own life is like no one else’s. The solitude of fasting was nothing new to me, and neither was the notion that my body might exist in a larger community in a way that no one else’s does. I have had to build my community in my own way and in the way I knew how. Like many members of the LGBTQ+ Muslim community, however, I have felt the pain of exclusion with our identities not always being accepted by our families or mosques. And the very point of it is not to go through all of this alone as an individual but to participate in it as a community - not just the community in your house or in your town, but in a real way with Muslims around the world. It may sound odd to congratulate someone on the arrival of a month of austerities, but fasting is not meant as an austerity, but rather as a chance to experience the body and the mind both in new ways. Since Ramadan (or Ramzan, it depends on what part of the Muslim world you are from) began this week, people have greeted each other with Ramadan Kareem or Ramzan Mubarak. I think instead of the communal aspects of it: waking up in the darkest hours with the other people in your house who are fasting, being with them during the daytime while you are sharing this experience and the best part of all, preparing the evening meal, then taking those first bites at iftar together to break the fast. ![]() Shows like Couture help us familiarize ourselves with companies already in our repertoire and expose us to new and upcoming designers.When I think of Ramadan, I do not actually think of the hardest part - the long daylight hours without food or water. Luckily for those in the jewelry world, there are annual trade shows, such as the Couture show in Las Vegas, that showcase the best brands. The biggest part of being a fashion editor is doing market research and staying on top of the hottest brands. However, we may earn affiliate revenue on this article and commission when you buy something. All products featured on Vogue are independently selected by our editors. ![]()
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