The tides are turning. Nigerian women are trading their corsets for iro and buba and breathing new life into this timeless style.
Not so long ago, the mere mention of iro and buba would make many young women cringe. It seemed too traditional—not modern enough, not sexy enough, not hip enough. Fast-forward to 2025, and the tides are turning; iro and buba is making a stylish comeback! They are fast becoming the outfit of the moment, replacing the reign of corsets at ceremonies and popping up in the most unexpected places but this isn’t the first time young Nigerians have flirted with iro and buba. Remember the Oleku era of 2011 to 2013? Short wrappers, fitted blouses, bold accessories it was flirty, fun, and very much a thing. That period showed us that tradition could be playful and sexy. While the Oleku vibe was more youthful and experimental, today’s resurgence feels softer and more grounded, less about trends, more about comfort, culture. Now in 2025 iro and buba are being worn to clubs, red carpet events, pre-wedding shoots, and even among the Instagram famous.
How did we go from ease to discomfort?
In the past few years, corsets have taken over the party scene. Nigerian owambe fashion revolved around structure—cinched waists, exaggerated hips, and sculpted busts were the peak of glamour. At weddings, birthdays, and other ceremonies, corseted aso-ebi dominated the style choices. Women are expected to show up looking “snatched” or they’re considered unstylish. Sadly, this version of beauty comes at a cost: bruised ribs, dizziness, discomfort, and sometimes an inability to sit through a party meal. Women sometimes wear these dresses once, document them on social media and keep them on shelves forever. The corset era has become a performance, where discomfort is part of the aesthetic.
Sustainability gets lost in the search for the perfect Instagrammable outfit
Nigerians often celebrate the love of fashion, but rarely reflect on its costs. A typical owambe goes like this: you buy yards of the aso-ebi fabric, pay a designer a lot of money for a specific design (often inspired by Pinterest or a celebrity), and end up with a dress tailored to one event, becoming unwearable afterwards. The outfit cannot be recycled or restyled because of how elaborate the design is, especially if the images go viral. There’s no chance of sustainability here.
This is where iro and buba outshines others. It’s not fast fashion, it’s a classic and versatile style. It comes as a three-piece set, providing versatility that the corseted pieces don’t necessarily have. The wrapper comes as a versatile piece, easily spun and tied in various styles for different occasions. You can also layer the blouse or wear it with other bottoms for a contemporary look. Then there’s the scarf, or ipele, which is an accessory on its own. The scarf becomes valuable currency with its ability to change form without losing meaning.
Iro and buba tells a story— and lasts generations
Unlike its counterparts, iro and buba tell stories and hold memories. In the past few years, women have taken to recycling their mothers’ fabrics during their wedding activities. Our fashion editor wore her mum’s lace buba and aso-oke for one of her pre-wedding shoots. However, this isn’t uncommon. It is a classic move that adds a touch of cultural heritage to one of their best moments in life.
The iro and buba that once belonged to your grandmother or mother from a naming ceremony in the 80s or 90s reappears in 2025, re-cut and refitted, for Pre-wedding shoots, weddings and parties, while carrying a nostalgic emotional value. This form of generational styling is not only sustainable, but it’s cultural storytelling that keeps fashion personal. It turns quality fabric into heirloom and heritage passed down through generations. Many Nigerian mothers and aunties have torn off old wrappers they’ve saved, not because they’re hoarders, but because they know that fashion, like memory, is cyclical.
Women are taking on iro and buba with style
The misconception that iro and buba is old school, safe, and boring is untrue. The widespread acclaim for Iyabo Ojo and Mercy Aigbe’s outfits at Priscilla Ojo’s is proof of that. People loved the refreshing and elegant soft peach sets that turned heads effortlessly. Their accessories added a regal finish to this classic look.
Younger women are also making their mark. Fimi, a singer and rapper (@fimiwiththeflow) went viral on X (formerly Twitter) after rocking iro and buba to a night out at the club. She styled it as the classic Oleku but with the wrapper in a mini proportion. Draping the scarf on her shoulder as the Yoruba ipele detail, this look had everyone shocked and excited. This moment redefines and transcends the notion that iro and buba are only suitable for older women at owambe.
We wore the corset—now we wrap ourselves in memories
Iro and buba embodies comfort, culture and continuity. It’s reminiscent of a lineage of women who dressed to be present, danced, ate, laughed, and celebrated without discomfort.
This doesn’t mean corsets have no place in fashion; they have existed for years, and their allure is distinct from iro and buba. Corsets shouldn’t always be the default for your party and celebration looks. There is a return to balance, a shift from performance to presence and comfort over virality.
African fashion is storytelling—our ceremonial attire, church outfits, and more reflect who we are and what we value. The comeback of iro and buba shows we’re choosing comfort with context, elegance with ease, and fashion with memory. Iro and buba has always been around, preserved, passed down, and waiting to be appreciated by each generation.
So here’s to the women dancing in wrappers that tell stories, while passing it down to their daughters, and to the girls who choose personal style regardless of societal expectations. The iro and buba isn’t just back. It’s leading a quiet, powerful revolution in Nigerian fashion.
