The durag is a simple piece of fabric — often made of silk, velvet, or polyester — that’s tied around the head. But for many people, particularly those of African descent, the durag is much more than just an accessory. It’s functional. It’s cultural. It’s political. And yet, despite its deep roots in black communities, the durag has long been misunderstood, mocked, policed, and commodified.
This article breaks down what a durag is, why people wear it, and why discussions around it remain so emotionally charged. It is written for those unfamiliar with the durag’s significance, aiming to demystify and explain — in plain terms — why this item of headwear matters and what myths continue to surround it.
What is a durag and why do people wear it?
A durag is primarily used to maintain certain hairstyles. For many black people with tightly coiled or curly hair, a durag helps flatten and set the hair in specific patterns — especially waves, braids, or locs. It keeps moisture in, reduces frizz, and prevents pillow friction while sleeping, which can mess up hair or cause breakage.
It’s also a form of protection. The tightness of the wrap helps compress the hair in a way that encourages it to lay down smoothly. For people trying to achieve 360 waves, for example, a durag is not optional — it’s essential.
But the function doesn’t stop at hair. The durag has evolved into a symbol of pride, a fashion statement, and for many, a badge of cultural identity. People wear it at home, in public, on red carpets, and in music videos.
It’s become an aesthetic — but one loaded with meaning.
What is the cultural history of the durag?
The durag’s story is long and layered. During the 19th and early 20th centuries, head wraps were used by enslaved Africans and their descendants in the Americas for practical reasons — hair protection and modesty — but also as a form of resistance and cultural retention.
By the 1930s, durags had become common in black urban communities, particularly in the US, where they were used to maintain the then-popular “conk” hairstyle — chemically straightened hair flattened down with heavy pomade.
During the Black Power era of the 1960s and 1970s, the durag took on new symbolic power. It became a quiet act of resistance against Eurocentric beauty standards.
It said: Black hair matters and it does not need to be hidden or changed to be accepted.
The 1990s and 2000s brought a boom in visibility. Hip hop made the durag a visual shorthand for authenticity. Icons like Allen Iverson, 50 Cent, Nelly, and later ASAP Rocky and Solange, wore them in music videos and on magazine covers.
But with this visibility came criticism. Schools and workplaces banned them, calling them “gang-affiliated” or “unprofessional” — thinly veiled language that targeted blackness.
Despite bans and stigma, the durag persisted.
Today, it exists both as a tool for hair care and a cultural statement, worn with pride by those who understand what it means and why it matters.
Are you appropriating if you wear a durag without the ‘culture’ pass?
This question sits at the heart of many modern debates around fashion and culture. Simply put, cultural appropriation happens when people from outside a culture adopt elements of that culture — often for aesthetics or trendiness — without understanding or respecting their meaning.
So when someone without textured hair wears a durag purely as a fashion accessory, especially without acknowledging where it comes from, many black people see it as disrespectful.
It’s not just about wearing a piece of cloth — it’s about wearing a story without having lived any of it.
To be clear, no one owns clothing styles. But there’s a difference between sharing and stealing. A white or non-black person wearing a durag in solidarity or as part of a shared experience (for instance, in a close-knit family or community) is not the same as someone slapping one on for a TikTok trend, unaware of the historical weight they’re putting on their head.
This isn’t just about offense. It’s about power dynamics. Black people have been mocked, fined, denied jobs, or even arrested for wearing durags — yet the same item becomes “cool” or “edgy” when worn by someone outside the community.
That double standard is why the question of appropriation matters so much.
If there is anything to take away from this explainer, it’s that a durag isn’t just a hair accessory. It’s a cultural artefact, wrapped in history, identity, and pride. It’s seen protests, police bans, and runways. It’s been a source of stigma — and a badge of honour.
To understand the durag is to understand a small, visible part of what it means to be black in a world that often misunderstands blackness.
So whether you’re picking one up for function or fashion, know what you’re wearing — and know why it matters.
