How Lagos Street Style Took Rachel Ojuromi to Chanel

By Nathan Brooks

Rachel Ojuromi, 22, walked Chanel’s spring/summer 2027 show at Paris’s Grand Palais last month after six months of publishing a new fashion video every day in Lagos.

That schedule turned Lagos’s markets and roadside stalls into a runway. Ojuromi, a Nigerian filmmaker, creative director and model, wore secondhand clothes, thrift finds and scraps sourced mostly from open-air hubs such as Yaba market. Since March, she and her team have posted the videos on social media under Give Rachel a Shot, her Instagram name.

Her childhood friend, neighbor and stylist Debby Fasingha assembles the looks. Together, they film in Gbagada, Yaba and other parts of Lagos without disrupting traffic. Pedestrians, traders and drivers respond with amused stares, smiles and cheers as Ojuromi passes.

One video put a tray of bananas on Ojuromi’s head as she walked through traffic. Another showed her drinking tea with a teenage boy at a table outside a roadside shop, with a kettle in front of them.

The tea scene drew on a Japanese advertising campaign. When a curious passerby learned that the shoot needed an extra, he returned with his son.

Ojuromi said: “There is something meaningful about knowing that a particular image or video exists because of a moment that happened at a specific time and place. Even if somebody tries to recreate it, it will never be the same.”

That approach treats the city as both wardrobe and studio. Fasingha assembles looks from available materials, while Ojuromi directs the scenes and turns familiar routines into fashion images. The series has traveled beyond Lagos through social media, but its production remains rooted in local sourcing and chance encounters.

The commitment began in March and ran for six months. Ojuromi and Fasingha published one fashion video each day, building on earlier experiments in creative direction and street photography. Their method centered on reinterpreting global collections with secondhand clothes and wardrobe finds.

Ojuromi described the budget discipline behind that work: “One of my mantras is to live within the reality of your situation. I am not going to spend money on something I cannot afford simply because I want to create a particular look.”

They also built each look around the meaning behind a designer’s collection. Ojuromi said: “We are more interested in the conversations happening around those clothes. We ask ourselves what is the designer trying to communicate through the collection. What is the central message? What is the cultural reference?”

Chanel tested that method. Ojuromi and Fasingha made looks inspired by the fashion house’s Métiers d’Art 2026 collection. Casting director Anita Bitton gave them the go-ahead to publish their versions. Their video attracted attention from fashion figures, including Chanel creative director Matthieu Blazy. Follow-up conversations brought Ojuromi from Lagos to the Grand Palais.

Her path to fashion began before the runway. Growing up around clothes because her mother sold them in local markets, Ojuromi initially wanted to become a neurosurgeon. Gifted Hands, the autobiography of Ben Carson, an African-American doctor from Detroit, inspired that ambition to break down barriers.

Complications with her college application prompted her to take a year off and explore filmmaking. She then decided that surgery was not for her.

Ojuromi explained the switch: “I wanted to contribute something meaningful and push boundaries. I discovered that I could pursue that ambition through creativity rather than medicine.”

Her work now spans modeling, filmmaking and creative direction. The constraint of her early budget shaped both the visual language and the daily publishing rhythm.

She also founded and edits Process Africa, a platform promoting young African creatives. Ojuromi launched it in 2023 after her young artist friend Temidayo Aríṣe organized an event. The platform aims to address barriers faced by young artists, designers, photographers and other creatives in Africa, particularly their limited access to opportunities needed to establish themselves.

Recalling the event, Ojuromi said: “I remember looking around [at the event] and thinking that somebody needed to tell the stories of these people.” The event became the starting point for an editorial platform.

Ojuromi put that position plainly: “I don’t want people to constantly feel the need to introduce their work as African fashion or African art, as though it belongs to a separate category. It is fashion. It is art. It is music. It is creativity.”

What does this change for young African creatives?

Process Africa targets the access problem Ojuromi describes. Her route offers a narrower, concrete lesson: start with the materials and constraints already available, publish consistently, and develop a clear interpretation of the references being adapted. The six-month daily schedule built a visible body of work before Chanel’s casting director and creative director entered the conversation.

That sequence matters for practitioners. It shows how local materials, improvisation and consistent publishing can create a portfolio before a luxury house validates it. The resulting attention opened a route to Paris, while Process Africa gives Ojuromi a platform to address similar barriers for other young creatives.

The next test is whether Ojuromi can turn that runway opportunity into durable access for the young creatives Process Africa serves. Her stated method is more measured: use the available reality, publish consistently, and let each project add to the creative record.