Miista Boots on Thin Ice

Since the 1900s, the role of the First Lady has changed significantly. What once started off as a ceremonial tradition has now become a seat that requires a sense of agenda, awareness and activism. I remember when school lunch menus were suddenly changed as a result of Michelle Obama’s “Let’s Move!” program focused on children’s health, and I’ve often had school course content reference Nancy Reagan’s “Just Say No” anti-drug campaign. 

Clearly, many First Lady’s, both historically and contemporarily, have made great strides on areas of American culture they deem needs improvement or aid. However, despite the admirable advocacy work these women have consistently engaged in, there always seems to be a more pressing question waiting for them: what are you wearing? 

Now, for the First Lady of New York City, the epicenter of American fashion, this question is amplified tenfold. If you simply search for “Rama Duwaji,” the first five or so articles discuss Duwaji’s fashion choices. Duwaji, the twenty-eight year old animator, illustrator and ceramist has experienced an unprecedented level of spectatorship since her husband, Zohran Mamdani, took the New York mayoral election by storm last year. While Duwaji’s title of First Lady places her in the Gracie Mansion rather than the White House, due to New York’s cultural significance paired with the traction Mamdani’s campaign was able to garner during the election, Duwaji will certainly be all over your social feed. 

On New Year’s Eve, Duwaji made headlines for her fashion choices at the New York Mayor’s inauguration. She contrasted the Old City Station’s colorful painted glass tiles and floral motifs with an all-black look from head to toe. Standing poised and warm with admiration, Duwaji held the Quran as her husband was sworn in wearing an unforgettable silhouette: archival gold dangly earrings from New York Vintage, a vintage Balenciaga coat falling just below her waist, a pair of formal Frankie Shop shorts and demandingly pointy Miista boots as styled by Gabriella Karefa-Johnson.

The following morning Duwaji rang in the New Year, and in a rare moment of tradition from her, she wore a coat. She chose a chocolate brown trench coat with rich brown faux-fur at the cuffs and in three parallel lines until it bordered the hem of the coat halfway down her calf. The coat was made by Palestinian-Lebanese designer Cynthia Merhej for Renaissance Renaissance in Lebanon using locally sourced wool and faux-fur. From monochrome wool suits to well-crafted boots, Duwaji is actively altering the culture of fashion for this highly socially and politically influential seat. 

That being said, it is hard to say this authentic and attentive styling that is laying the groundwork for how a First Lady can dress is coming directly from Duwaji and her team. On inauguration night, her outfit was hotly debated due to the price tag on the footwear she sported to formally step into her position. At $630, the boots were a signal of Champagne Socialism to some; spreading a message that while the city was subject to blanket policies of wealth redistribution, its leaders could enjoy stylistic luxuries and flaunt them casually. 

Duwaji and her stylist quickly denounced the sentiment and explained that the boots were in fact on loan from Miista, along with the rest of her outfit on the New Year’s Eve inauguration. These accusations illuminate the reality that audiences, especially ones in political opposition, are interpreting every fashion detail as a calculated decision. Today, navigating the eyes of the public is like constantly walking on a thin layer of ice in big and heavy Miista boots, unsure of which action will have you falling under. 

Duwaji is evidently aware of this reality, as seen through her choice of dress on New Year’s Day. While publicizing the designer items she gets on loan was a learning curve, Duwaji centers herself with an intrinsic sense of preparedness to take on this unique position. As a Syrian-American woman, she knows the importance of speaking up for underrepresented communities, especially in the Middle East, as she has been outspoken on the ongoing conflict in Palestine. 

In an interview for The Cut, Duwaji shared that, “At the end of the day, I’m not a politician. I’m here to be a support system for Z [Mamdani] and to use the role in the best way that I can as an artist.” She’s doing just that. By choosing to wear a coat crafted by the hands of a Palestinian-Lebanese designer, she is speaking through her clothes. By using the fact that her clothes are talked about, she is inserting these creatives’ backgrounds that she feels need recognition directly into conversation.

Rama Duwaji is set up to thrive in this highly watched role by delivering incredible looks aligned with the political code both herself and the mayoral administration adhere to. Looking forward, however, in both NYC’s future of First Ladies and America’s more largely, Duwaji’s attentiveness sets the standard high. There’s no telling who will sit in her position ten years from now or in the White House come the next election, but I’d guess the same standards in which she is held to will still apply. Duwaji’s strong suits might be the future’s shortcomings.