Despite Peshawar’s urbanity and diversity, modest dressing is not just a social expectation. It is a part of a broader cultural landscape shaped by Pashtunwali, the customary code of conduct for Pashtuns across the world. At its heart is its central tenet Nang (honor), a moral principle guiding personal and communal conduct, irrespective of class and gender. An unwritten socio-legal system predating Islam, Pashtunwali is preserved and transmitted through Oral Tradition, community enforcement, and everyday practices such as purdah, the tradition of gender segregation and modest dressing. In this way, Pashtun women’s clothing choices serve as clear expressions of individual, familial, and collective honor, navigating a complex visual terrain shaped by tradition, urban life, and shifting moral expectations.
Reflective of this, women in Peshawar wear a wide variety of modest dressing styles. The iconic cap burqa covers the body from head to toe with a single cloth adorned with a dome-shaped mesh veil. Women from the Tribal Belt who have settled in Peshawar, as well as Afghan refugees and elder women, tend to wear this garment. Peshawari local women prefer the long black or white chador, a large cloth sheet covering the whole body that can be pulled or held across the face for partial concealment. Some women prefer the black abaya, or “coat burqa,” which includes a long gown, headscarf, and optional niqab as face covering. Its popularity has grown since the early 2000s, coinciding with the War on Terror, and reflects the growing influence of Gulf aesthetics in what many locals describe as the “Arabization of Pashtun culture.”
Against this backdrop, the surgical face mask has quietly entered the mix.
Samia’s insight that the mask is like a more convenient niqab stayed with me as I moved through the city. I noticed how many women, including students, commuters, daily shoppers, were using the mask in ways that blurred the line between necessity and expression.
THREE PORTRAITS OF A FACE MASK
At a welcome party hosted for incoming students at the university, I noticed how, despite being a co-ed space, many of the female students wore gorgeous dresses with adorned scarves. Matching the color of their outfits, most wore face masks—an unusual look on the university’s grounds and classrooms.
“I spent 5,000 [Pakistani] rupees on this dress,” explained Naila, a journalism student, of the approximately US$18 she spent. “I don’t want it to be hidden under an abaya,” she said, as she took selfies in the face mask to maintain her Snapchat streak with her friends.
Naila further explained that the mask allows for modesty while still letting women embrace the latest trends. It removed the need for a chador big enough to stay in place over their face, giving them more sartorial options. It is also easier to remove to have food or to take pictures. The look has become especially popular at nonsegregated social gatherings, where women can be stylish and modest at the same time.