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Question? Ask us anything!
Yasmin Ali

EIP: Can you share your journey to becoming a costume designer & stylist?
YASMIN: My journey to becoming a costume designer and stylist has been deeply intertwined with my identity and heritage. Growing up as a Spanish-born, Palestinian American, I was constantly surrounded by stories, textiles, and cultural expressions that reflected resilience and artistry. My love for fashion and storytelling began early, as I watched my family celebrate traditions through clothing and Tatreez embroidery that carried centuries of meaning.
My venture into costume design and styling wasn’t exactly linear. I started working in the fashion industry with brands like Ralph Lauren and J.Crew, but I quickly became disillusioned by the wastefulness and monotony of the industry. It felt like there was a lack of soul and variety, and I craved something that allowed me to express my creativity in a more dynamic way.
By chance, I attended a plant medicine retreat in upstate New York, where I befriended a quirky director. Later that year, he hired me to design costumes for RuPaul’s Drag Race Christmas music videos. That project was a revelation for me. It combined everything I loved—creativity, storytelling, and collaboration with bold, inspiring people.
I also realized that my ADHD, which can make routine work challenging, thrives in the kind of environment costume design provides. Each project is different, requiring a wide variety of skills and offering endless opportunities to meet and work with fascinating, creative individuals. It felt like I had finally found my calling.
Whether working on a film, a theatrical production, or styling an individual, I see each project as a chance to weave narratives through fabric, texture, and form.
Over time, I’ve learned to use my role to amplify voices and explore the intersections of identity, culture, and fashion. My goal is always to create designs that resonate emotionally, while also celebrating diversity and creativity.
EIP: Over the years, do you have a wearable piece that has become your absolute favorite?
YASMIN: One of my favorite pieces is a wrap skirt by the Palestinian brand Trashy Clothing. Their designs are rebellious, playful and impenitently political, blending satire and wit to tackle heavy topics like colonialism and cultural appropriation. What I love most is how they use fashion to tell stories—turning everyday garments into symbols of resistance and pride. This skirt, for example, feels like more than just clothing; it’s a reminder of the power of joy and creativity as tools for resilience. Trashy’s work always challenges conventional norms, and wearing their pieces makes me feel connected to both my roots and a broader, unapologetically rebellious spirit. It’s a piece that feels both nostalgic and contemporary, and it’s such a fun way to celebrate Palestinian culture with a sense of humor.

EIP: How has your childhood and upbringing shaped your style and approach to fashion today?
YASMIN: I’ve always been drawn to wearing a ‘conversation piece’—something that invites connection and sparks dialogue.
Growing up, I was also ridiculed for being different and experimental with my style, so fashion became a way for me to carve out a space where I felt safe and expressed my individuality. I still carry that desire for connection through my style, using it as a bridge to communicate and interact with others in a way that feels authentic to me. I was incredibly protective of my hijabi mother and friends. Going to high school in a post-9/11 world, during the Iraqi war, made me hyper- aware of the xenophobia and hatred directed at Arabs and Muslims. I remember getting into fights and standing up to cis-het white men who bullied me and my Muslim sisters. This fierce sense of protection for my community has always been a part of me. Because of that, I’m so proud to have been part of projects like Ms. Marvel and Ramy, which portray the diverse, multifaceted world of Muslims and the SWANA community and diaspora. These projects are personal to me, as they show that our stories and identities are complex and beautiful, and they push against stereotypes while highlighting our strength and resilience.
EIP: Tell us about politics and how it crosses over with your work?
YASMIN: Being a Palestinian American designer and stylist in
today’s world has been challenging, to say the least. I took my first trip to my homeland in October 2023, and I landed on the 2nd, right in the midst of the atrocities unfolding. Being there, just kilometers away from the genocide, changed me in ways I can’t fully describe. I’ve always been politically active—so much so that it’s cost me jobs in the past—but witnessing this level of violence firsthand redefined my sense of activism.
Fashion and style are a form of expression, but what does ‘expression’ mean when you’re silenced for simply calling out atrocities? For me, clothing is a language. It speaks without words. Just walking by someone wearing a keffiyeh can provoke a nod of approval or a look of disgust. It’s incredible how powerful a single piece of fabric can be.
The film and TV industry has faced numerous setbacks, from COVID to the writers’ and SAG strikes, but for me, it became crystal clear that this industry, as it stands, needs disruption. If I’m going to lose opportunities for standing up against genocide, I don’t want to be working with soulless people. I’ve had countless colleagues and friends tell me they sympathize with Palestinians but can’t post anything for fear of losing their jobs. What does that tell you? Who holds the power?
So, to be able to collaborate with people and projects aligned with my values has been a blessing. From Mona Chalabi reaching out to create a custom keffiyeh dress, to styling the ‘Gaza is Calling’ music video for Mustafa, working with Bella Hadid, and designing a short film for my friend Laith Nakli, these are the kinds of projects that fuel me. This is why I do what I do—to help my community share their stories, to inspire others, and to unapologetically celebrate who we are and where we come from.

Keep reading:
Global Echoes of Resistance:
Artists Harnessing Art, Culture, and Ancestry
Diana Carla Rowe
Global Echoes of Resistance:
Artists Harnessing Art, Culture, and Ancestry
Ridikkuluz
Global Echoes of Resistance:
Artists Harnessing Art, Culture, and Ancestry
Sarah Elawad
{
"article":
{
"title" : "Yasmin Ali",
"author" : "Yasmin Ali",
"category" : "interviews",
"tags" : "",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/global-resistance-art-yasmin-ali",
"date" : "2025-02-04 15:33:00 -0500",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/yasmin-ali-walking-dead-1.jpg",
"excerpt" : "",
"content" : "EIP: Can you share your journey to becoming a costume designer & stylist?YASMIN: My journey to becoming a costume designer and stylist has been deeply intertwined with my identity and heritage. Growing up as a Spanish-born, Palestinian American, I was constantly surrounded by stories, textiles, and cultural expressions that reflected resilience and artistry. My love for fashion and storytelling began early, as I watched my family celebrate traditions through clothing and Tatreez embroidery that carried centuries of meaning.My venture into costume design and styling wasn’t exactly linear. I started working in the fashion industry with brands like Ralph Lauren and J.Crew, but I quickly became disillusioned by the wastefulness and monotony of the industry. It felt like there was a lack of soul and variety, and I craved something that allowed me to express my creativity in a more dynamic way.By chance, I attended a plant medicine retreat in upstate New York, where I befriended a quirky director. Later that year, he hired me to design costumes for RuPaul’s Drag Race Christmas music videos. That project was a revelation for me. It combined everything I loved—creativity, storytelling, and collaboration with bold, inspiring people.I also realized that my ADHD, which can make routine work challenging, thrives in the kind of environment costume design provides. Each project is different, requiring a wide variety of skills and offering endless opportunities to meet and work with fascinating, creative individuals. It felt like I had finally found my calling.Whether working on a film, a theatrical production, or styling an individual, I see each project as a chance to weave narratives through fabric, texture, and form.Over time, I’ve learned to use my role to amplify voices and explore the intersections of identity, culture, and fashion. My goal is always to create designs that resonate emotionally, while also celebrating diversity and creativity.EIP: Over the years, do you have a wearable piece that has become your absolute favorite?YASMIN: One of my favorite pieces is a wrap skirt by the Palestinian brand Trashy Clothing. Their designs are rebellious, playful and impenitently political, blending satire and wit to tackle heavy topics like colonialism and cultural appropriation. What I love most is how they use fashion to tell stories—turning everyday garments into symbols of resistance and pride. This skirt, for example, feels like more than just clothing; it’s a reminder of the power of joy and creativity as tools for resilience. Trashy’s work always challenges conventional norms, and wearing their pieces makes me feel connected to both my roots and a broader, unapologetically rebellious spirit. It’s a piece that feels both nostalgic and contemporary, and it’s such a fun way to celebrate Palestinian culture with a sense of humor.EIP: How has your childhood and upbringing shaped your style and approach to fashion today?YASMIN: I’ve always been drawn to wearing a ‘conversation piece’—something that invites connection and sparks dialogue.Growing up, I was also ridiculed for being different and experimental with my style, so fashion became a way for me to carve out a space where I felt safe and expressed my individuality. I still carry that desire for connection through my style, using it as a bridge to communicate and interact with others in a way that feels authentic to me. I was incredibly protective of my hijabi mother and friends. Going to high school in a post-9/11 world, during the Iraqi war, made me hyper- aware of the xenophobia and hatred directed at Arabs and Muslims. I remember getting into fights and standing up to cis-het white men who bullied me and my Muslim sisters. This fierce sense of protection for my community has always been a part of me. Because of that, I’m so proud to have been part of projects like Ms. Marvel and Ramy, which portray the diverse, multifaceted world of Muslims and the SWANA community and diaspora. These projects are personal to me, as they show that our stories and identities are complex and beautiful, and they push against stereotypes while highlighting our strength and resilience.EIP: Tell us about politics and how it crosses over with your work?YASMIN: Being a Palestinian American designer and stylist intoday’s world has been challenging, to say the least. I took my first trip to my homeland in October 2023, and I landed on the 2nd, right in the midst of the atrocities unfolding. Being there, just kilometers away from the genocide, changed me in ways I can’t fully describe. I’ve always been politically active—so much so that it’s cost me jobs in the past—but witnessing this level of violence firsthand redefined my sense of activism.Fashion and style are a form of expression, but what does ‘expression’ mean when you’re silenced for simply calling out atrocities? For me, clothing is a language. It speaks without words. Just walking by someone wearing a keffiyeh can provoke a nod of approval or a look of disgust. It’s incredible how powerful a single piece of fabric can be.The film and TV industry has faced numerous setbacks, from COVID to the writers’ and SAG strikes, but for me, it became crystal clear that this industry, as it stands, needs disruption. If I’m going to lose opportunities for standing up against genocide, I don’t want to be working with soulless people. I’ve had countless colleagues and friends tell me they sympathize with Palestinians but can’t post anything for fear of losing their jobs. What does that tell you? Who holds the power?So, to be able to collaborate with people and projects aligned with my values has been a blessing. From Mona Chalabi reaching out to create a custom keffiyeh dress, to styling the ‘Gaza is Calling’ music video for Mustafa, working with Bella Hadid, and designing a short film for my friend Laith Nakli, these are the kinds of projects that fuel me. This is why I do what I do—to help my community share their stories, to inspire others, and to unapologetically celebrate who we are and where we come from."
}
,
"relatedposts": [
{
"title" : "Neptune Frost",
"author" : "Saul Williams, Anisia Uzeyman",
"category" : "screenings",
"tags" : "",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/eip-screening-neptune-frost",
"date" : "2025-07-12 16:00:00 -0400",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/netune-frost-movie-poster.jpg",
"excerpt" : "Join us on Saturday, July 12 for a special screening, followed by an exclusive Q&A with the directors of Neptune Frost. Part of our member screening series, tune in live or anytime in the next 24 hours, from anywhere in the world!",
"content" : "Join us on Saturday, July 12 for a special screening, followed by an exclusive Q&A with the directors of Neptune Frost. Part of our member screening series, tune in live or anytime in the next 24 hours, from anywhere in the world!Multi-hyphenate, multidisciplinary artist Saul Williams brings his unique dynamism to this Afrofuturist vision, a sci-fi punk musical that’s a visually wondrous amalgamation of themes, ideas, and songs that Williams has explored in his work, notably his 2016 album MartyrLoserKing. Co-directed with the Rwandan-born artist and cinematographer Anisia Uzeyman, the film takes place in the hilltops of Burundi, where a group of escaped coltan miners form an anti-colonialist computer hacker collective. From their camp in an otherworldly e-waste dump, they attempt a takeover of the authoritarian regime exploiting the region’s natural resources – and its people. When an intersex runaway and an escaped coltan miner find each other through cosmic forces, their connection sparks glitches within the greater divine circuitry. Set between states of being – past and present, dream and waking life, colonized and free, male and female, memory and prescience – Neptune Frost is an invigorating and empowering direct download to the cerebral cortex and a call to reclaim technology for progressive political ends."
}
,
{
"title" : "Socialist Girl Summer: How Capitalism Spent Billions to Demonize Socialism — And Why That Spell Is Breaking",
"author" : "Céline Semaan",
"category" : "essays",
"tags" : "",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/socialist-girl-summer-demonize-socialism-why-spell-breaking",
"date" : "2025-07-03 22:00:00 -0400",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/EIP_SocialistGirlSummer.jpg",
"excerpt" : "As the founder of Slow Factory, I design everything you see—every typeface, every framework, every campaign. I don’t outsource the vision. I shape it. And I started Slow with one goal in mind: to rebrand socialism, justice, and environmentalism—not as niche causes, but as cultural movements essential to our survival. Design isn’t just about aesthetics. It’s about power. And I use design as a tool to imagine, demand, and build better worlds.For nearly a century, the United States has spent billions of dollars, media bandwidth, and educational muscle to ensure one thing: that the word socialism would strike fear in the public imagination. That’s not because socialism failed. It’s because socialism threatens power—especially the kind of power that hoards land, labor, and life for profit.But something is shifting. The re-election of Assemblymember Zohran Mamdani in New York—an openly socialist organizer who unapologetically defends tenants, workers, and Palestinians—marks a rupture in that narrative. A new generation no longer flinches at the word. They embrace it. They are building it. They are winning.But before we can move forward, we must understand what we are up against.",
"content" : "As the founder of Slow Factory, I design everything you see—every typeface, every framework, every campaign. I don’t outsource the vision. I shape it. And I started Slow with one goal in mind: to rebrand socialism, justice, and environmentalism—not as niche causes, but as cultural movements essential to our survival. Design isn’t just about aesthetics. It’s about power. And I use design as a tool to imagine, demand, and build better worlds.For nearly a century, the United States has spent billions of dollars, media bandwidth, and educational muscle to ensure one thing: that the word socialism would strike fear in the public imagination. That’s not because socialism failed. It’s because socialism threatens power—especially the kind of power that hoards land, labor, and life for profit.But something is shifting. The re-election of Assemblymember Zohran Mamdani in New York—an openly socialist organizer who unapologetically defends tenants, workers, and Palestinians—marks a rupture in that narrative. A new generation no longer flinches at the word. They embrace it. They are building it. They are winning.But before we can move forward, we must understand what we are up against.A Propaganda Empire Built on FearFrom Cold War cinema to first-grade civics books, socialism was rendered as the enemy. Not because it endangered democracy, but because it questioned private property, militarism, and capitalism’s sacred cow: unlimited profit.The U.S. government, backed by its capitalist elite, responded with a sweeping cultural war. The Red Scare and McCarthyism turned union leaders, civil rights activists, and artists into traitors. The FBI surveilled and imprisoned people for organizing against poverty and racial capitalism. Hollywood blacklists sanitized storytelling and sold capitalist mythology as aspirational truth. CIA coups, from Chile to Iran to the Congo, dismantled democratically elected socialist governments because they dared to nationalize oil, land, and education. This wasn’t a fear of failure. It was a fear of redistribution.Why the Spell Is BreakingCapitalism made big promises. But it delivered gig work, burnout, debt, climate collapse, and endless war. A growing number of people—especially Gen Z and Millennials—aren’t buying the myth anymore.According to Pew Research (2023), 70% of younger Americans support some form of socialism.Mutual aid groups, public power campaigns, and tenant unions are taking root in cities across the U.S.And politicians like Mamdani, Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, Summer Lee, and others are bringing these values to governance—publicly, unapologetically.This isn’t a rebrand. This is a return. A remembering.Designing LiberationDesign has always been political. It’s a tool used by empires—and also a tool of resistance. Every successful propaganda campaign used design to criminalize solidarity and glorify capitalism.Mid-century posters showed socialism as monstrous: Stalin as an octopus devouring the planet. Red flags engulfing American homes in flames. Inspectors peering through windows. These visuals weren’t neutral. They were weapons.But today, we’re flipping the frame.As a designer, I use visual culture to demystify and disrupt these fear-based narratives. We design not just what we see—but how we see. And when we shift that perspective, we make new futures possible.My work at Slow Factory has always been about this: telling stories rooted in care, equity, and ecological justice. Whether through open education, cultural programming, or climate justice campaigns, I’m reprogramming what power looks like—and who it belongs to.Zohran Mamdani and the Future of StorytellingMamdani’s victory isn’t just electoral. It’s cultural. He won while calling for an end to genocide in Gaza, organizing with workers instead of corporations, and speaking openly about the harms of capitalism and imperialism.He won while the establishment poured millions into defeating him.His win is proof: the old script is wearing thin.Reclaiming the Word, Reclaiming the WorldSocialism has always been about care—public housing, free healthcare, universal education, the right to rest and exist without fear. These are not fringe demands. These are the bare minimum for a livable planet.The villain was never socialism. The villain was the empire that told us we didn’t deserve care unless we could afford it.We are entering the Possible Futures era. And it’s being led by people who no longer fear justice—but are terrified of its absence.Designing that future means unlearning propaganda and replacing it with stories of survival, resistance, and imagination. We must reclaim the visual language of dignity—transforming symbols of domination into frameworks for liberation.We don’t just need to rebrand socialism.We need to remember it.And redesign everything."
}
,
{
"title" : "Who’s Profiting from Genocide? What Francesca Albanese’s Report Reveals—and Why It Matters for the Climate",
"author" : "EIP Editors",
"category" : "essays",
"tags" : "",
"url" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/readings/profiting-from-genocide-what-francesca-albanese-report",
"date" : "2025-07-02 18:33:00 -0400",
"img" : "https://everythingispolitical.com/uploads/EIP_Francesca_Report.jpg",
"excerpt" : "Let’s be clear: genocide is never just a military operation. It’s an economy.",
"content" : "Let’s be clear: genocide is never just a military operation. It’s an economy.This week, UN Special Rapporteur Francesca Albanese released a groundbreaking report—“From the Economy of Occupation to the Economy of Genocide” naming dozens of global corporations complicit in and benefitting from Israel’s genocidal war on Gaza. The report makes what many of us have long known impossible to ignore: multinational corporations are not just “doing business” with Israel—they are profiting from displacement, resource theft, and mass death.And it’s not just harming people. It’s killing the planet.Albanese’s report lays out how corporations across defense, tech, finance, construction, and agriculture are directly enabling Israel’s assault on Gaza. This is not indirect. This is not abstract. These companies are not passive observers—they are profiteers. Weapon Manufacturers like Lockheed Martin, Elbit Systems, Boeing, BAE Systems, and General Dynamics are supplying the bombs raining down on hospitals and refugee camps. Tech Giants like Google, Amazon, Microsoft, IBM, and Palantir provide the cloud computing, AI surveillance, and targeting software that power Israel’s military intelligence. Construction Firms like Caterpillar, HD Hyundai, and Volvo provide bulldozers used to demolish Palestinian homes—often paid for with public funds or foreign aid. Hospitality Platforms like Booking.com and Airbnb list vacation rentals on stolen Palestinian land, laundering settler colonialism into leisure. Financial Institutions including BlackRock, Barclays, Citigroup, JPMorgan, and Deutsche Bank fund Israeli military bonds and invest in all the above sectors. This is what an economy of genocide looks like: global, profitable, and deeply entrenched in the status quo.Genocide and Ecocide Are Two Sides of the Same CoinThe same companies enabling genocide are actively destroying ecosystems. This isn’t a coincidence—it’s a pattern.Caterpillar, already infamous for displacing Palestinian families, is a major contributor to fossil fuel extraction and mining projects that poison Indigenous lands in the Global South.Palantir, which boasts about using AI to “optimize” military surveillance, is also deployed by ICE in the United States to track, detain, and deport climate refugees and migrants.Netafim, an Israeli irrigation company profiting off stolen Palestinian water, is celebrated as “sustainable innovation” in the ag-tech world—masking eco-apartheid as green tech.In short: genocide and ecocide share a supply chain. And we need to cut the cord.Elbit Systems, an Israeli weapons manufacturer, supplies drones and surveillance tech to police at the U.S.-Mexico border—and to ICE.HP and Google provide AI and cloud infrastructure for the Israeli military while also marketing themselves as “green tech” leaders.Chevron and ExxonMobil continue to fund and extract from the Eastern Mediterranean, leveraging Israel’s military occupation to secure infrastructure.This is greenwashing meets genocide—a deadly symbiosis between environmental harm and militarized violence.What This Means for UsThis moment calls for more than statements. It calls for a total redefinition of what sustainability means—because there is nothing sustainable about silence in the face of genocide.If you are a brand, an artist, a designer, a policymaker, a curator, or a student: you are being called in. Your work, your budget, your institution may be entangled—knowingly or not—with the companies Albanese has exposed. Now is the time to do the work.What We Must Do—Now1. Follow the MoneyStudy the companies listed in Albanese’s report. If you work with—or fund—any of them, ask questions. Divest. Cut ties.2. Demand Institutional AccountabilityMuseums, universities, nonprofits, and sustainability conferences are often quietly sponsored by companies profiting from Israeli apartheid. Push for transparency. Refuse complicity. Call it what it is.3. Connect the StrugglesThe fight for Palestinian liberation is not separate from climate justice. This is all one system: extraction, occupation, militarization, profit. As we say often: everything is political—because everything is connected.4. Build and Invest in AlternativesMutual aid, abolitionist design, food sovereignty, fossil-free infrastructure, and Indigenous stewardship—these are not just buzzwords. They are the way forward. Center Global South leadership. Fund frontline communities.5. Say PalestineRefuse the pressure to sanitize. Refuse the pressure to stay neutral. In the face of genocide, neutrality is complicity. If your liberation practice does not include Palestine, it is incomplete.A Propaganda Crisis, TooThese companies aren’t just selling tools of war—they’re shaping narratives. They sponsor art exhibitions, climate conferences, design summits. They greenwash occupation and brand apartheid as “security innovation.”The most dangerous lie today is that “sustainability” can coexist with genocide. It can’t.No climate justice without Palestinian liberation. No sustainable future while apartheid is profitable.So What Can We Do?DivestCampaign for your workplace, university, or city to divest from the companies named in the report. Check your retirement funds. Audit your donors. Pull the receipts.ExposeIf your favorite brand or cultural institution is collaborating with Amazon, Palantir, or Caterpillar—say something. Publicly. Email them. Call it what it is: complicity.Cut the Narrative LoopRefuse to use language that normalizes occupation: “conflict,” “both sides,” “retaliation.” This is genocide.Build AlternativesSupport community-owned energy, Palestinian agricultural cooperatives, and local solidarity economies. Join land back and degrowth movements—they are connected.Organize for PolicyPush for legislation that bans military trade with apartheid regimes and prohibits companies from profiting off human rights abuses.Tell the Truth, ConsistentlyUse your platform to amplify the names, the facts, the systems. Share this report. Write your own version. Make the invisible visible.The Link Between Genocide and Climate HarmWe can’t talk about genocide without talking about resource theft, land colonization, and environmental destruction. The same weapons being used to bomb hospitals and schools in Gaza are being manufactured by companies who also profit from climate collapse—polluting ecosystems, propping up fossil fuel economies, and creating the conditions for displacement that militarized borders are then built to contain.We must hold the line. Genocide is not inevitable—it is designed. And anything that is designed can be dismantled. If we want to build a just, livable future, we must start by divesting from the machinery of death—and investing in life.Let this be the beginning."
}
]
}