Across generations, Black South African artists have used clothing to push back against expectations, turning personal style into a form of cultural assertion.
Spoek Mathambo and the Alternative Scene
Sixteen years ago, rapper, producer and filmmaker Spoek Mathambo appeared on the cover of The Fader. He wore a mostly black ensemble: a white shirt buttoned to the top, a gold-and-black scarf lining the edges of a black jacket, and square-framed glasses that had become a staple of hipster aesthetics.
Mathambo had been a central voice in South African rap and electronic music throughout the 2000s. In the years that followed, his sonic and visual identity soundtracked numerous publications and the cultural infrastructure of a Johannesburg that also produced acts like Dirty Paraffin and Big FKN Gun. For a moment, a scene largely ignored by mainstream South African media found an embrace that accommodated its breadth of oddities.
As one half of Sweat.X alongside Markus Wormstorm, Mathambo gravitated toward bright neon colours and tight pants, offset by fedora hats and dark shades. The look resonated with a demographic that did not rely on radio for music discovery.
A shared thread, informed by geography, international trends and fluid conceptions of self, was more improvised than codified. BLK JKS, who had their own Fader cover two years earlier, leaned punk with a twist of pantsula cool. Drummer Tshepang Ramoba channelled a heavy-metal growl while also working as a deejay, digger and curator of electronic music from north of Gauteng. Guitarists Linda Buthelezi and Mpumi Mcata locked into dislocated rhythmic transmissions, injecting Blackness back into rock and roll with inland guitar work that borrowed from coastal legends such as Madala Kunene, Mfaz’omnyama and Phuzekhemisi. Bassist Molefi Makananise was the mellowest presence, steady and observant.
BoyzNBucks and the Streetwear Shift
While clothes-as-aesthetic informed the alternative scenes, the artists who put the drip directly into the music were moving in a different formation. Siyabonga Ngwekazi, known as Scoop Makhathini, a youth icon whose television and radio work helped elevate many scenes, recalls what the collective BoyzNBucks was doing as “very high level streetwear.”
“We weren’t Louis Vuitton, we weren’t Gucci. Riky went that route, but we as BoyzNBucks were more into the street fashion, which still was very higher grade because you couldn’t get those labels, you couldn’t get those clothes unless you travelled outside of the country,” Ngwekazi said. “It was when Riky Rick then became an artist that changed people’s perception.”
Riky Rick mastered that perception change and built a career on it. A decade ago, he rapped: “Sidlukotini kwedini/ cava le jean kwedini/ cava le slumber boy/ sidl’ ilast number boy” (we’re cotton eaters, boy/ check out this jean, boy/ we’re pushing the highest standard, boy). The lines established rank and set him apart, signalling that his style was the hardest.
By embracing high fashion and injecting references to Gucci into his lyrics, he opened a lane that many would later follow.
Riky Rick’s Style Philosophy
In an interview during that period, Riky Rick explained his approach to clothing: “I try to explore different vibes, different feelings according to what setting I am in. Sometimes I just throw on stuff that I like, maybe it looks nice or whatever. But I always try to follow concepts, especially when it’s important events.”
He continued: “The whole journey for us started with sneakers. I grew up in Austria, and what happened was that there was a lot of emphasis on brands like Tommy Hilfiger and Timberlands. This is when I was like, Standard 3 (Grade 5). There was so much emphasis on that and Lacoste. These were brands that were big in Europe. I always aspired to be one of those kids who could afford that. But one thing my dad always made sure was that we always had a dope pair of sneakers.”
“When we came into rap, I’m getting opportunities to explore different parts of the world, exploring materials, that’s why I use cotton as something that’s important to me, and what it means to be comfortable in your skin beyond sneakers. Black people, our illest representation is of shoes. We look down the whole time: what shoe is this, what shoe is that. When I started travelling everywhere, shoes didn’t mean that much. It’s all about accessories, and then I got into that.”
A collaboration between the rapper and Hugh Masekela had been in the pipeline, but it never materialised because the elder statesman passed away.