Iconic? Ask a woman of color.

Among all nexuses of inspiration, a woman of color will stand at the forefront of what we
are now calling Afrofuturism: a term that, for lack of better words, simply highlights the
escapism in our DNA. Like a comet, we impact the world at large, leaving traces of our imprint and blurring the line between aspiration and inspiration.

Reality is non-linear, yet it is too often portrayed as “unbiased” when collective subjectivity falls into the wrong hands, especially at the mercy of those who miscredit legacy and are obsessed with inventing the wheel.

To speak of Tanagra in the lexicon of luxury is to experience its glamour through women
who embody its contradictions and defiance. These women are not just stylish; they are
égéries: each one rewriting what it means to command space, power, and elegance.

Luxury turbans for women who lead.

One of them, a hybrid of dandy and coquette, is undeniably Haitian. Her Afrocentric features carry the story of lineage and audacity. Skin dark as unrefined cocoa, a button nose, almond eyes, high cheekbones, and a pointy chin: her face is both softness and sharpness, her attitude commanding mystery and intrigue. She takes up space unapologetically, speaking her mind with a cadence as precise as her fashion. Dressed to kill, her articulation
does not falter even in anger; her words are always sharp, cutting as cleanly as her tailoring.

The turban crowns her not as an accessory but as an assertion, highlighting her leadership and making her presence impossible to diminish.

She is a paradox; the least of what you expect and a woman like her in certain spaces is bemusing. On one Fourth of July, she found herself on a rooftop in Nolita, where the city gathered to celebrate the birth of the Western world’s beloved hegemony.

The crowd was a sea of Americana: white tees, denim, and sneakers. A uniform of casual conformity.

Then she appeared. Tanagra turban, lobster earrings, a graphite silk halter top, tailored
white pants breaking clean against sleek grey pointed-toe shoes. She moved through the crowd with the hair accessory as armor, an assertion of presence that cut against the
backdrop of All-American sameness.

As she walked past a cluster of people, spines straightened with visceral discomfort. Two women whispered something to each other. At first, their commérage hung in the air.

Moments later, one of them turned to her, disarming the tension with a polite attempt at
admiration: “I love your turban.” Without missing a beat, she smiled, her response as
gracious as it was precise:

“Thanks. I got it from my friend’s brand. Her Instagram is @ShopTanagra_”.

Another is the founder herself: modelesque, a hybrid of Thandiwe Newton’s poise and
Gabrielle Union’s radiance. Her deep olive-toned skin carries a year-round tan, as though kissed by every sun she’s encountered in her travels. She commands attention not by trying, but by existing; her presence often feels as if lifted straight from the glossy pages of a L’Officiel spread.

Her voice is shaped by a sexy, lilting accent, and her laugh is radiant, reckless, and infectious. She has undeniably explored fashion through her globetrotting, each city and culture stitched into her sense of self. It shows in the way she carries herself: a woman who knows the world, yet refuses to be defined by any corner of it.

Her creation, Tanagra, is as intentional as she is. The way she styles it always leans first
toward glamour, before conceding to functionality. In her hands, the turban is not simply an accessory; it is a cultural intervention, a luxury item with roots. For those who battle with hair politics, especially the endless dance of leave-outs and maintenance... it is more
than a style accessory; it is a lifesaver.

She has built a brand that is not only wearable art, but of delight, and drama in equal measure.