by Alexandra Mansilla
To Be a Hijabi Model Despite Hate And Rejections. Interview With Mai Yackout
29 Aug 2024
Mai Yackout was born in Alexandria and then moved to Cairo. Since her teens, she always wanted to be a model. Her parents were against it, but that wasn't the only obstacle she faced: it seemed that everyone was against it. She wore a hijab, respected her traditions and culture, and wanted to elevate the hijab to a new level of fashionability. However, the only response she received was, "We’re not looking for hijabi models."
Eventually, she succeeded. Read her story, filled with rejections, audience backlash, and hesitations.
— Mai, you started your modelling journey at 18, right? I was curious — how did that come about? Did the idea start when you were still in school, or was it something you came up with later? How did it all happen?
— Yeah, I started working my first job at the age of 12. I was very young, and as I grew older, I wanted to break free and embrace my youth. However, my family had realistic expectations and often said things like, "You can't do this." By the time I turned seventeen, it was the era of Victoria's Secret models and the Tumblr aesthetic which influenced many of us in choosing our paths.
That is when I discovered Halima Aden, the first hijabi model to collaborate with Tommy Hilfiger and walk-in shows alongside Bella Hadid. This inspired me to think, "If I can't remove my hijab and be like my peers, maybe I can create something unique with it instead of running from it."
I was born and raised in Alexandria, but all the significant opportunities were in Cairo. In high school, I began participating in photo shoots, searching for a direction in modelling that resonated with me. In Egypt, hijabi models are often stereotyped and confined to traditional roles, which I found frustrating. I didn't want to be boxed.
So, I reached out to photographers and teams to organise shoots that matched the vision I had for myself. I explored different markets, trying to find a balance between maintaining my hijab and pushing the boundaries of fashion. At that time, there was no clear pathway for someone like me in the Egyptian fashion industry, and I struggled to find a niche.
After finishing high school, I worked for a year. Subsequently, I signed up with a modelling agency in Egypt, and that is when my career really began to take off.
— You mentioned that your parents didn’t want you to become a model. What expectations did they have for your future instead?
— They wanted me to just aim for something like becoming a teacher, marrying someone, having kids, and that is it. So, when I started thinking differently, they hated the idea. They would say, “You can’t do this; you won’t make it on social media or in a magazine.” We had a lot of issues over this for a long time. But as I grew up, I started showing them that I wasn’t trying to run away from my roots. I wanted to create a life that was true to me while also embracing my religion and expressing my culture. It was about finding a way to be comfortable with both.
— Who was more against: your mom or your dad?
— Both, I swear. Both of them were like the perfect pair, sharing the same mindset on everything. They were very strict, and I was the first in our time to try something different. Back then, there was no social media, no meeting people outside of your city, no going out, or even travelling. Those things just weren’t on the table.
— I am trying to imagine how tough it must have been for you, especially since you were raised in a family-oriented environment where you always had to do what your parents expected of you. How was it for you to break away from that? It must have been extremely difficult.
— Yeah, exactly. They were trying to accept that I was doing something completely different, something they had never heard of before. At first, I had a lot of anxiety. I was modelling a bit, not telling them much about the shoots I was doing while still in high school. I had decided that once I finished school, I would tell them, "I'm travelling, I'm doing this and that." It was tough. Their acceptance didn’t happen overnight, and even now, there are still comments.
— And who supported you during that time?
— My cousin and my little sister were really important to me during that time. My little sister was still young, but I wanted to be a role model for her and show her that creativity and doing what you love is possible. I wanted to open doors for her, to let her know she could do whatever she wanted. My cousin, who was living in Italy, was the only one who knew all the details about my modelling. She encouraged me to carve out my own path, even though it would be tough. She understood that I had to either conform to what others expected or find a middle ground.
— In different interviews, you mentioned self-love a lot, especially considering the criticism and rejections you faced. I am curious — not just about self-love in a professional sense, but as a person. Can you talk more about your journey with self-love? What challenges did you face, and why did you struggle with confidence or other issues?
— At first, I was really insecure about my body because I was always underweight. I used to get comments about it, especially when I was thinner. Over time, I realised that there was no issue with anyone’s body, and I began to accept myself. My height was another insecurity — I am 170 cm, and I knew I should be taller for modelling. I also struggled with wearing the hijab; it felt restrictive, and I wasn’t comfortable. Even in school, wearing the uniform with a hijab felt really heavy and uncomfortable for me. I talked to my family about it, but they told me there was no other option — I just had to deal with it.
But as I continued modelling, I started embracing who I am, wearing what made me feel good and showing off the parts of myself I once wanted to hide.
— And why did you receive so many rejections when you started your modelling journey? What were the reasons behind it?
— When I first started out, I was just a random girl trying to reach out to modelling agencies without any real connections or experience. I would send messages and often get responses like, "We’re not looking for hijabi models." This happened even in the Middle East, leaving me wondering where my market was. I targeted one agency in Egypt, the first professional modelling agency there, and reached out, but they also rejected me.
I didn’t give up. I started contacting photographers, brands, and other creatives, even though most had never worked with a hijabi model before. I faced a lot of rejections, with many saying it wasn’t the right market for me. Over time, I began to understand the circles these agencies operated in and started aligning myself with their networks. After a year of working on my own, people began to notice me. The agency I had initially reached out to invited me for an interview, and we signed on the same day.
However, after a year and a half, I realised that my market was more in Dubai, where the environment was more diverse and creative. Unfortunately, the agency turned into a toxic environment. They signed me as a hijabi model but kept telling me they couldn’t market me, making me question if I should change who I was. Eventually, I decided to leave. It was a horrible experience, like breaking up with a toxic boyfriend. It took them three months to terminate the contract, but I knew I needed to start fresh.
After leaving, I felt nervous and uncertain, but I began doing test shoots, building new connections, and pitching myself more in Dubai. Last November, I decided to go to Dubai for a few months to make a fresh start, and it was the best decision I could have made.
— And I just thought of another question. You have around 30,000 followers, right? I imagine your Instagram is filled with people who both love and criticise you, yet they still follow you. Have you ever had difficult experiences with your audience?
— Yeah, of course. I have found that some girls can really relate to my story, especially on platforms like TikTok. I made a video where I talked directly to the camera about my experiences, and some girls were really supportive because they’re in a similar place — wearing a hijab and trying to figure things out. It made them feel heard, like they’re not alone.
But there is also another side. Some people, especially other women, criticise and say things like, “Your hair is showing; this isn’t right.” It is hard to accept that women, who might understand the struggle, are the ones making these harsh comments. It is disheartening when women tear each other down, especially over something as personal as how they wear their hijab. I have noticed this criticism a lot, particularly among Egyptians. We always have something to say, and instead of just supporting someone for doing something different, there is always that added critique.
— I can't understand it.
— Me too. I couldn’t escape it — it was everywhere. I had a podcast where I was just talking, and it went viral on Twitter and TikTok. People were making fun of it, and it was trending everywhere. I was so embarrassed because they were saying things like, "This isn’t hijab" or "Why is she talking like that?" But I was just being myself, speaking normally. Some people got it, while others didn’t, and that is okay. The ones who understand, understand.
— So they think that you don't have a right to represent this community, right?
— Exactly, and most of them don’t even wear it themselves. A lot of these girls are telling me I would be better off taking it off, but how can they say that when they haven’t even tried? They don’t understand what it is like.
A random question: Imagine you’re not a model right now, and you’re still breaking the rules and challenging your parents' expectations. If you weren’t a model, who would you be? What path do you think you would have taken?
I think it would be… a creative direction, like designing clothes or working in a fashion house. Sometimes, I have a vision for certain things and want to bring them to life. So, I see myself leaning more towards creative direction, where I can really explore and develop these ideas.
— Also, I am really curious about one story. You spent years trying to find your style and discover what truly felt like you, and then you decided to cut the hood off a black hoodie. Do you remember that day?
— So, after I had been modelling for a bit, it was winter, and I started wearing hoodies instead of a scarf. But when summer came, I realised I couldn’t keep wearing hoodies in the heat. I had this black hoodie I bought randomly, and I started layering it over everything—blouses, shirts, you name it. I liked how it looked, but the fabric started wearing out since it was a bit cheap. So, I decided to modify it, chopping off parts and adjusting the fit to work better with the heat.
As I continued experimenting, I realised I needed better fabric. I took the hoodie to a tailor, bought new fabric, and adjusted the hood. When I wore it, I thought, "This looks good!" I began searching for brands with a similar style, and that is when I found inspiration in the 2021 collection with dresses that had hoods.
Last summer in June, I created my first top — it was black with a hood, and it felt perfect. Since then, I have been designing my own clothes, layering pieces, and experimenting with different styles. Now, I am more invested in my personal style, reading about design, and seeing how I can make pieces more modest while staying true to myself. I am at a point in my life where I want to be inspired by everything and create pieces that truly reflect who I am.
— Looking back at your journey and where you are in your career now, what do you think about the state of hijabi models today? Are there specific challenges you want to highlight, such as a lack of fashion brands that create cool clothing for those who wear hijabs?
— I still feel like a lot of big fashion houses, and brands do cool things, but they lack the mindset to be more diverse and inclusive. You can walk into a store, find a lot of items, but still not find anything that fits you, especially if you wear a hijab. Some brands refuse to feature hijabis in their shoots, even in the Middle East. They see the hijab as "not cool," which is frustrating. This issue is really prominent in Egypt, where even big fashion brands have never embraced this kind of representation.
I think it would be great if you could share any projects you're currently working on. Are you planning to launch something new or participate in any important projects?
I am working on a collection with a brand called Nora Label. The idea came up when I was wearing something I made myself, and my friend, whose sister owns the brand, loved it. I didn’t feel ready to start my own brand, so I decided to collaborate with them instead. They were looking to work with influencers and feature people, so it was a perfect fit. We're currently in the sample stages and aim to launch the collection in October.
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