The Keffiyeh’s Journey from Heritage to Runway
Symbol, statement, style code: why the keffiyeh carries history (and controversy) into 2025.
Bella Hadid wearing a keffiyeh fabric dress at Cannes. Image Courtesy of WWD
Flashbulbs erupt in Cannes as Bella Hadid appears in a flowing archival dress stitched from keffiyeh fabric. A few weeks later, at Copenhagen Fashion Week, a student in sneakers loosely ties the same patterned scarf around their neck: two very different stages, one shared garment. The keffiyeh has moved far beyond its origins as protective headwear. It is a symbol, a statement, and a provocation, depending on who you ask. So how did a square of fabric woven with fishnet grids and olive-leaf motifs become one of the most charged fashion items in 2025? And what does wearing it mean in the era of Instagram street style and political solidarity?
Ancient Threads, Modern Symbol
The keffiyeh, also called kufiya, has deep roots across Southwest Asia and North Africa. Traditionally worn as protection from the sun and dust, its woven black-and-white patterns carry layered meaning. The net-like grid has been read as the sea, a nod to Palestine's connection to the Mediterranean. The olive leaves speak to endurance and resilience. The bold lines are said to trace ancient trade routes.
By the 1930s, during the Arab Revolt against British colonial rule, the keffiyeh had shifted from functional wear to a political symbol. Later, the late Yasser Arafat wore it so consistently that the scarf became synonymous with Palestinian identity on the world stage. Its threads held history, survival, and pride, and they still do.
Weaving Resistance: Craft & Authenticity
To understand the keffiyeh today, you have to know the name Hirbawi. In a factory in Hebron, Hirbawi remains the last manufacturer of authentic Palestinian-made kufiyas. Each scarf produced there is more than cloth; it represents livelihoods, craft heritage, and resistance to mass-market imitations.
Since 2024, demand for Hirbawi kufiyas has surged worldwide. Young buyers, especially those active on social media, purchase directly from Palestinian producers rather than settle for fast-fashion knockoffs. Authenticity is no longer just about quality; it's about ensuring the meaning of the keffiyeh isn't stripped away by commercialization.
Image Courtesy of Hirbawi Image Courtesy of Amir Hamja via The New York Times
From Subculture to Spotlight: A Fashion Timeline
The keffiyeh's journey into global style has never been linear; it has come in waves, shaped by politics, youth culture, and the shifting cycles of fashion.
In the late 1960s and 70s, solidarity movements in Europe and the United States saw activists and students adopting the scarf. Worn on campuses and protest marches, it signaled political awareness as much as it did personal style. The scarf wasn't yet a mainstream accessory. Still, its presence in street photography from Berlin, London, and Paris made it instantly recognizable to anyone who knew the moment's politics.
In New York during the early 2000s, the scarf crossed into hip-hop and indie fashion scenes. Downtown kids wore it with oversized tees and sneakers, while Williamsburg creatives looped it over vintage coats. Street style photographers like The Sartorialist captured moments where the keffiyeh sat casually over skinny jeans and Converse. This aesthetic marked the scarf's shift from political emblem to fashion trend. At the same time, fast-fashion retailers caught on, selling brightly colored versions stripped of context. The backlash was swift, as critics argued that mass-producing the keffiyeh in neon pink or purple severed it from its cultural meaning.
Then came the 2010s, when the scarf seemed to recede from mainstream visibility. Arafat's passing in 2004 and the decline of "festival fashion" after 2015 shifted the spotlight. But in activist spaces and diasporic communities, the keffiyeh never left. It continued to be worn at protests, rallies, and cultural gatherings, keeping its meaning alive outside fashion cycles.
The resurgence in 2024 and 2025 marks a new chapter. This time, the keffiyeh has re-entered global style with clarity and weight. Bella Hadid's Cannes moment pushed it onto glossy magazine covers, but the real power is in the streets. It's draped over trench coats in Paris and paired with Balenciaga sneakers. In New York, stylists knot it over bomber jackets and cargos, giving it a utilitarian edge. In London, it hangs loose over tailored blazers, bridging heritage and modern tailoring.
Today, street style treats the keffiyeh as more than just a scarf. It's a visual signal of awareness, solidarity, and individuality. Unlike in the 2000s, when neon knockoffs diluted its meaning, in 2025, people are more intentional. They wear the keffiyeh knowing it speaks before they do.
Image Courtesy of The National News
Lines Crossed: Appropriation, Backlash & Rules
Every fashion item that carries political weight eventually becomes a site of tension, and the keffiyeh is no exception. Luxury houses have released "keffiyeh-inspired" scarves with four-figure price tags, sparking criticism for commodifying a symbol of struggle without crediting its origins. In some cases, backlash was so intense that retailers pulled products from shelves.
Institutions, too, have wrestled with the scarf. In 2024, the Victorian Parliament in Australia banned it from its chambers, calling it a political symbol. Some European museums have faced controversies over dress codes that indirectly targeted visitors wearing keffiyehs. These disputes reveal the scarf's power: it is not neutral, and its presence sparks debate wherever it appears.
The conversation is layered. Some argue that wearing the keffiyeh without acknowledging its symbolism is appropriation. Others counter that fashion is always political, and visibility is a form of solidarity. For 2025, the fact remains: this square of fabric cannot be worn without meaning.
Style With Intent: The 2025 Wearer's Guide
Can you wear the keffiyeh? The short answer is yes, but only if you understand and respect its meaning.
If you're wearing it as solidarity, say so. A caption, a conversation, and a credit are all ways to ensure the act isn't reduced to an aesthetic gesture. Always buy from Palestinian makers like Hirbawi or fair-trade collectives that source transparently. Skip knockoffs.
Styling matters too. Don't costume it. Avoid Orientalist or theatrical pairings. Instead, treat the keffiyeh as a meaningful accessory: pair it with everyday looks—an oversized coat, tailored blazer, jeans, and sneakers. Many on the streets of Paris and New York in 2025 wear it this way, folded neatly at the neck or casually across the shoulders. The scarf blends into contemporary street style while keeping its message intact.
Finally, be mindful of context. In some workplaces or institutions, the keffiyeh may be treated as a political symbol and restricted. That reality doesn't erase its cultural value but shapes how and where you wear it. In 2025, visibility is not just fashion; it is a statement.
Image Courtesy of Noorunisa via Vogue Arabia
Capsules & Side Notes
What the Patterns Mean
Net motif: the sea, connection to land, and freedom
Olive leaves: resilience and rootedness
Bold lines: trade routes and continuity
The keffiyeh in 2025 is both a garment and a message. It is protection, pattern, protest, and pride. Wear it is participating in a conversation larger than fashion, stretching across streets, runways, and borders. Today's most ethical styling is transparent about its meaning, fair in its sourcing, and attentive to its political context.
So the question lingers: when fashion is speech, what are you saying when you step out the door?