Alte fashion, short for alternative, started as a bold rebellion against Nigeria’s strict dress codes, especially in Lagos around the early 2010s. It grew from the alté music scene, where artists like Odunsi (The Engine), Santi, and DRB Lasgidi mixed sounds and styles that broke free from mainstream afrobeats. Before that, trailblazers like Denrele Edun, with his wild wigs, skirts, and gender-bending looks since the 2000s, and the late Goldie Harvey, who rocked edgy, colorful outfits in the early 2010s, laid the groundwork by challenging what it means to dress in Nigeria.
Charly Boy’s punk vibes in the 80s also paved the way, showing that standing out was possible even in conservative times. This movement fused grunge, Y2K nostalgia, and local fabrics like Ankara with goth elements, baggy jeans, fishnets, and oversized tees to push back against colonial hangovers and rigid traditions. It wasn’t just clothes; it was a shout for freedom in a society that polices how young people look, often linking “weird” styles to crime or deviance.
Today, alte fashion is everywhere in Naija, especially among Gen Z in Lagos and Abuja, blending into streetwear and high fashion. Artists like Lady Donli, Wavythecreator, Prettyboy D-O mix it with afrobeats, wearing cyberpunk layers, neon hair, and gender-fluid pieces from brands like Mowalola or Ashley Okoli’s Sillet. Trends include thrifted corsets with Adire skirts, platform boots, and editorial makeup that screams individuality—it’s on TikTok challenges, Lagos Fashion Week runways, and even mainstream events. The scene is growing, with fusion looks like wide-leg pants over traditional prints or sustainable upcycled outfits gaining traction.
It’s empowering youth to express themselves without apology, influencing global styles and boosting local brands. But it’s not all smooth; the community is tight-knit, yet mainstream co-opting sometimes waters down its raw edge, turning it into just another trend.
Still, alte fashion faces real pushback in Nigeria, where conservative social norms see it as weird or deviant, leading to stigma that hits hard. Wearers often get labeled as “mad” or “misfits,” facing bullying, family rejection, or even police harassment—remember EndSARS, when bold styles got people profiled as criminals? This judgment limits jobs, social circles, and safety, especially for the youth in the scene who risk violence for daring to exist outside the box.
Economic woes like high fabric costs from imports and weak IP protection make it tough for designers to thrive, while the ban on textile imports hurts local production without fixing supply chains. Despite this, alte keeps pushing forward, proving it’s more than sabotage—it’s a fight for a freer Naija where self-expression isn’t a risk.
Written by: Adzege Tersur Samuel
Edited by: Tonye Hart