1. Landing in Layers
When I moved to Toronto in January for a design internship, I wasn’t prepared for the cold. The wind had teeth, and my wardrobe was all wrong. I spent my first week wrapped in borrowed scarves and an oversized coat. One afternoon, while waiting for a streetcar near Queen Street West, I noticed a hoodie on someone across the road. The word “asaali” was stitched into the back in metallic thread. I didn’t know what it meant, but I felt drawn.
2. A Name That Spoke
I Googled “asaali” as soon as I got home. The word, rooted in Arabic, translated to “genuine” or “original.” That hit hard. I’d spent years trying to tone down my Ethiopian identity just to blend in at school in British Columbia. Here I was, in a new city, trying to redefine myself. That one word—asaali—felt like permission to stop hiding. I had to find that hoodie. Not just for warmth, but for something deeper: truth.
3. The Boutique in Kensington
I eventually found the brand in a small concept store tucked in Kensington Market. The walls were covered in contemporary African art, soft jazz played from an old speaker, and the air smelled faintly of cedarwood. A rack in the back displayed Asaali’s new collection. Each piece felt like poetry—earth tones, traditional motifs, textured stitching. I found the hoodie: rich brown cotton, with black script down the sleeve. It felt like it had been made with my name in mind.
4. Wrapped in Heritage
Wearing the hoodie felt different from anything I’d owned before. It was soft but heavy, like it held stories. One day, a barista at a local café said, “Is that Asaali? I’ve been eyeing that drop.” I nodded, proud. But inside, I felt something deeper—connected. That hoodie wasn’t just fashion; it was a declaration. I was no longer trying to copy a look. I was wearing something that carried a piece of me. It felt like a quiet revolution.
5. Culture in Contrast
Toronto’s fashion is an interesting blend. You’ll see Caribbean influences, East Asian minimalism, and Middle Eastern streetwear all on one block. Asaali didn’t scream for attention—it whispered intention. It felt honest. Meanwhile, the buzz around Sp5der Clothing was growing loud. I kept hearing about their immersive store experience in Yorkville. Where Asaali honored the past, Sp5der looked like it came from the future. Curiosity got the best of me, and one Saturday, I made my way there.
6. Inside the Web
The Sp5der store felt like stepping into another dimension. LED lights flickered in spiderweb patterns, and mannequins wore garments that looked like they belonged in a post-apocalyptic comic. I tried on a blood-red puffer with neon graphics. I looked wild in the mirror—but strangely powerful. I kept my Asaali hoodie underneath, and for the first time, I felt the two brands in conversation: one grounded in culture, the other reaching for what’s next. It was a vibe.
7. Mixing Realities
That night, I wore both pieces to a party thrown by an indie art collective. People noticed immediately. One girl said, “That hoodie’s so grounded and spiritual, and the jacket is just chaos—it works.” I smiled. It felt like I had finally learned how to wear all sides of myself: my traditions, my creativity, my curiosity. Asaali gave me confidence. Sp5der gave me boldness. Together, they helped me take up space in a way I never had before.
8. More Than a Brand
As weeks passed, I found myself checking Asaali’s drops like clockwork. I learned that the brand was founded by a first-generation designer who wanted to blend ancestral roots with futuristic expression. Every piece came with a card explaining the cultural significance behind the design. It wasn’t performative—it was educational. It made me think about my mother’s old stories, my grandmother’s woven shawls. I wore my hoodie not just for comfort, but as a reminder of who I came from.
9. A Different Kind of Belonging
On my last day in Toronto, I walked through Trinity Bellwoods Park as snow quietly fell. I wore my Asaali hoodie under the Sp5der coat. I looked up at the grey sky and smiled—not because I had found two great fashion brands, but because I had found a way to belong to myself. Clothing had always felt like a costume. But now, it felt like language. And through Asaali, I finally had the words.
