FIFA called Haitian jerseys ‘too political.’ Haitian fans showed up anyway.
“I mean, it was just ridiculous because of the Haitian story. … You can’t divorce the Haitian story from the story of independence as the first free Black nation in the world,” said Boston City Councilor At-Large Ruthzee Louijeune.
At Haitian watch parties on Juneteenth — marking June 19, 1865, when enslaved African Americans in Texas first learned they were free — the FIFA decision barely registered.
On Boston Common that day, Haitian fans from across New England gathered in sharp reds and blues — pencil skirts, makeshift crop tops, even ski goggles.
They moved through the park in clusters, stopping to photograph one another, singing, laughing, and smiling long after Haiti’s loss to Brazil.
What stood out was not the result, but the presence: polished, coordinated, and together.
For many Haitians, style is more than self-expression. It is a declaration.
“Haitian people are a people who can literally turn water into wine,” said Herv Jean-Baptiste, a creative consultant serving as an emcee for the FIFA Fan Festival at City Hall.
For Jean-Baptiste, the phrase captures a defining characteristic of the Haitian community: When others underestimate them, they respond by showing up.
“Haiti is truly a rubric for a lot of Black and African-descended countries,” he said. “Haiti being in the World Cup speaks to our resilience. A lot of people didn’t expect Haiti to make it.”
One of the people helping shape that visual identity is Aidya Solé, founder of The Haitian Croissant, a lifestyle and heritage brand rooted in Haitian culture.
“I started my brand to highlight Haiti and show people who are just used to seeing Haiti in the news for negativity a beautiful side of Haiti,” Solé said.
What began as a blog evolved into a design brand selling clothing and objects that celebrate Haitian history rather than shy away from it.
“I’m a designer by heart,” Solé said. “We decided to finally start designing products that really represent our ethos.”
For the World Cup, that ethos took the form of a jersey.
“My first reference for designing the jerseys was honestly the jerseys from 1974,” Solé said. “I noticed how simple and minimal the jerseys were. It was just ‘Haiti’ in a sans-serif text.”
She wanted something that could move beyond the stadium.
“That’s why we went with knit material,” Solé said. “It’s really something that you can dress down or elevate. It’s a timeless artifact.”
The vision appears to have landed.
“I love structure and whimsy,” said Koko Dubuisson, a Boston nurse and part-time influencer. “For me, I need to go full glam.”
That often means pairing her Haitian Croissant jersey with dramatic silhouettes, layered skirts, or unexpected accessories.
Recently, at a Juneteenth watch party, Dubuisson styled hers with a burgundy floral cutout skirt, baby-blue kitten heels, and a matching handbag. Wrapped around her head was a Haitian flag.
Showing up well-dressed, she said, is part of a larger cultural inheritance.
“I was raised to always dress well,” Dubuisson said. “My mom always told me the first thing people are going to see before you even open your mouth is your outfit.”
Even now, she jokes, her mother still expects photographic proof before she leaves the house.
“She’s like, even your underwear and bra have to be perfect,” Dubuisson said, laughing. “What if you get into a car accident and they have to cut all your clothes off?”
Beneath the humor is something more serious.
“I think our skin color already, and also being an immigrant for my mom, meant she had to present herself in her best way,” Dubuisson said. “So she wasn’t just deemed as another immigrant here in the United States.”
Others echoed that sentiment.
“I guess fashion is my language,” said Maxime Hilaire, a Boston creative and owner of Gangsters Buy Flowers. “It’s how I speak without having to speak.”
For many Haitian Americans, clothing functions as both personal style and cultural affirmation.
“Being born in Haiti and coming here, you might not look at me and immediately think I’m Haitian,” one attendee said. “But by the way I dress and what I choose to acknowledge in my garments, you’ll be able to tell.”
Fashion, they said, is one way of telling a story.
And when asked what makes Haitian culture special, few pointed first to the clothes, the food, or the humor.
Again and again, the answer returned to the same idea: resilience.
The admiration many people have for Haiti often centers on resilience. But for those gathered in Boston Common, the point was not to be seen as extraordinary. It was to be seen whole — as stylish, creative, complicated, and proud of where they come from.
“Being Haitian is understanding that you can do a lot with a little, you can go far with not too much,” Jean-Baptise said.
On the Common that night, fans adjusted their jerseys, posed for photos, and wrapped themselves in Haitian flags as the temperature dropped hours after the match ended. Nobody seemed in a hurry to leave. The game was over, but their day was not.
Celine Hijazi can be reached at celine.hijazi@globe.com.