By Sasha Rampersaud
Photo Credit: Beauty Escape
Wisps of smoke escape from a long, fine stick of incense that burns on a small, wooden table beside me. The aroma dances around my nostrils as I sit in a cozy henna parlor, watching several mehendi artists adorn the hands and feet of other women with intricate henna designs.
The artists move their cones briskly across the skin of their clients. With focused eyes and steady hands, they create exquisite patterns that represent something unique to the woman they’re embellishing. Each design, however different or complex, holds a multitude of symbolism.
The parlor sits on the corner of Liberty Avenue and 130th Street in Richmond Hill, Queens—an Indo-Guyanese enclave densely packed with immigrants from South Asia and the West Indies. Women from Pakistan, India, Guyana, Sri Lanka, Bangladesh and the Middle East frequently come to henna parlors to be adorned for special occasions such as weddings, birthdays, holidays and other celebrations.
Although henna is traditionally used for cultural purposes, it has grown as a recreational practice as well. In recent years, it has been sported by celebrities like Madonna, Beyoncé and the Kardashian sisters, causing the temporary body art to become a growing trend. However, while the beautiful patterns are widely admired, women who are deeply rooted in henna’s religious or cultural meaning express concern over the revered tradition becoming just a passing fashion fad.
Munibah Chowdhury, a 19-year-old Muslim from Jamaica, Queens, asserts that henna should be reserved for traditional use. She sits besides me in the parlor, in a corner close to the entrance where the other women won’t hear us.
“It is believed in many Islamic communities that the Prophet Mohammad used henna to dye his beard and that the plant used to create henna paste was the Prophet’s favorite flower,” she says as quietly as she can, although the vehemence in her voice can hardly be contained. “For me, henna is linked to religion and culture. Making it a fashion statement seems to violate that relationship.”
Similarly, Rezwana Khan, 22, contends that henna has “many symbolic implications” that range from patterns to color. She references Arabian and Indian weddings where henna is a symbol of good luck, health and sensuality.
“The Mehendi Night in Indian marriages is a good example of why henna is a respected art form in our culture,” she begins. “On this night, the bride, surrounded by her family and friends, is adorned with extensive henna patterns on her hands and feet. The patterns usually take hours to complete and are often done by multiple henna artists.”
Divya Petal, a professional henna artist famous on Instagram for her talent, would agree that it takes ample time and effort to create a unique henna design. But unlike Chowdhury and Khan, Petal embraces the idea of henna being used more widely around the world.
“I see it as a way of connecting people,” she states. “I’m regularly hired to work at weddings where I create henna on dozens of women, sometimes of various backgrounds. I even host my own mehendi parties occasionally, so I see henna being used as a bonding measure between close friends and family members.
Petal also shares that “henna is an art, and just like other forms of art, it is ultimately an expression of oneself.” She believes that while the history and cultural significance of henna is beautiful, “its use should not be restricted.”
Likewise, Samantha Koobeer, a 30-year-old resident of Corona, Queens, also expresses delight that henna is more widely acknowledged. Although she believes herself to be a devoted Hindu who is familiar with the art form, and even shares that she implemented it in her own wedding festivities in 2008, Koobeer admits that henna’s growing popularity has introduced her to new information about its medicinal purposes.
“I had no idea that henna could be used to treat headaches, stomach pains, burns [and] hair loss,” she says. “People can really benefit from it. It seems unfair to reserve it just for religious reasons.”
At Baruch College, Arshi Newaz, a 20-year-old accounting student and self-taught henna artist, also speaks about the art form as a growing trend.
“I saw it all over Instagram first. A lot of the beauty bloggers had it on their hands,” she says. She pulls out her cellphone to show me the web-famous makeup artist, Amrezy, showing off her henna patterns in a short video. The 15-second clip received over 37,000 “likes” and nearly 20,000 comments from girls gushing praise.
“Then flash tattoos came out, which were supposed to be [a mixture of] henna and jewelry designs [in the form of stick-on] tattoos,” Newaz continues. “I’m not necessarily against henna as a trend, but it does take away from the meaning.”
Newaz mentions other aspects of Indian and Middle Eastern culture that have been incorporated into pop culture. The bindi, a decorative mark worn in the middle of the forehead by Indian women, was seen on Selena Gomez and Iggy Azalea in their music videos. And Lady Gaga wore a sari—an elaborate garment traditionally worn by women from South Asia—to one of her events.
Overall, Newaz maintains that she’s happy with henna and other traditions becoming popular. However, she wishes more women would research and understand their meanings and cultural significance.
Despite the disparity in opinion, both sides seem to agree that henna will continue to grow as a popular form of body adornment. Both Petal and Newaz, who started practice doing only traditional patterns, have now expanded their designs to reflect contemporary images. For some clients, they reproduce tribal tattoos, animal tattoos and motifs that include inspirational words.
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