In Kinshasa, tailors are reviving the ‘Abacost’

Sewing machines whirred across bold fabrics in a Kinshasa studio. There, Congolese tailors and their style-conscious customers have revived a suit long associated with life under a dictator. The “Abacost” has a jacket that closes at the front, often with a Mao-style collar. Worn without a tie, it is ideal for the humid equatorial heat.

It, along with his leopard skin hat, was the trademark of President Mobutu Sese Seko. He started wearing the jacket in the 1970s, when western shirts and ties were all but banned. The authoritarian ruler made it mandatory for civil servants to do the same. It was seen as a symbol of national identity and a break with the norms of the former colonial powers.

Even his name, an abbreviation for “a bas le costume,” or “down with the suit,” was an act of provocation. After Mobutu was overthrown in 1997 after more than three decades in power, the suit fell out of favor. He was seen as associated with the old elite. Now, almost three decades later, he is back.

“It’s the trend at the moment,” said Serge Okasol, one of Kinshasa’s best-known tailors. He added that orders come from both old and young.

Hidden behind a gas station in the center of the capital of the Democratic Republic of Congo, Atelier Okasol is reinventing the suit, stitch by stitch. After studying fashion in Paris, Serge and his brother Auguy returned home. They took over the family business founded by their father.

Ministers, generals, executives and diplomats are among our regular customers today. Some order up to 15 suits at a time, each costing around a thousand dollars.

“Making it our own”

“There are many ateliers like this, but Okasol does it best,” one customer told AFP after picking up an expensive order.

Another customer, Percy Losso, said the most sought-after designs use African fabrics. This makes the suits a statement of cultural identity.

“We take a classic style and make it our own language,” said Serge Okasol.

Modern Abacost is often characterized by elaborate embroidery or bright patterns. This is in stark contrast to the subtle look of western suits.

The design starts with the customers. Many bring ideas inspired by Congolese musicians and influencers who helped bring back the Mobutu-era suit.

“When you sent me the model on your phone, it had a pointed collar. But here I went for a more classic one,” Auguy said to a young customer while taking measurements.

For high-profile events, wealthier patrons commission Abacosts decorated with floral patterns or pearls.

Others go further and add their initials – or even their own portrait – on the jacket.

The tailors say they live by one rule: “Express your identity.”

“The Real Secret”

Behind the shop, a large hangar hummed with high-quality machinery imported from Germany and Japan. Around 30 employees took on various tasks, from jackets and trousers to sleeves and buttonholes.

“People here pay a lot of attention to the details,” said Serge. “You can judge a suit by its workmanship.”

A few blocks away, rows of cheaper suits from Asia hung from makeshift racks along a muddy street. The mass-produced Abacost-style jackets sell for around $50. The adjustments are made on site in dimly lit rooms.

Local tailors say the difference is in the quality. They argue that the imports use inferior fabrics, often mixed with polyester.

“The fabric is the real secret to a good suit,” Auguy said. “The fake ones retain heat. With real fabric you can breathe.”

In one of the poorest countries in the world, style remains a powerful means of asserting one’s identity, status and pride. Kinshasa is known for its extravagantly dressed dandies or “sapeurs”. They are followers of a cult movement who spend huge sums of money on designer clothing. Whether rich or struggling to survive on the outskirts of the city, clothing in Kinshasa is more than just fashion, emphasized Auguy.

“For a man from Kinshasa, dressing well is like putting on armor,” agreed Serge. “It’s about self-esteem and credibility.”