In the U.S., wearers are unlikely to know one pattern’s affiliation from another, but wearing the wrong Kefi in the wrong place can have ugly consequences in the Middle East; imagine an ignorant tourist striding into a Palestinian neighborhood with strong Hamas loyalties in the black and white of Fatah. In Iran, the Keffiyah is seen as a dangerously pro-Arab statement, and wearing one can get you arrested. The significance of the pattern is further diluted when the scarves are dyed hot pink or electric yellow and smiley faces and skulls replace the traditional checks and houndsteeth. Any association the kefi might once have had with Palestinian solidarity is lost when it’s effortlessly worn by the young, blonde relatives of pro-Israel arch-conservatives like G.W. Bush and John McCain. The sudden popularity of the Kefi among young Republicans – and poptarts like Rachael Ray - is another sure sign that the trend is doomed.

Modified keffiyehs at Royalty Couture

Those who remember the ‘80s may recall a similar blossoming of neckerchiefs around the time of the first intifada. While the Kefi’s popularity in 1987 was clearly linked to political events, is it fair to assume that its resurgence in the mid-aughts is somehow connected to the war in Iraq, or to Arab solidarity in the face of post 9/11 hate crimes? It could simply be more ‘80s nostalgia, now that college students are walking around in leggings and short denim skirts as if they invented the combo. Whatever the reason for its return, the reason for the Kefi’s second demise is obvious: its original trendiness was partly based on its association with an edgy, far-left cause—an association weakened by the Kefi’s now-overwhelming popularity. But don’t come down too hard on the hipsters, celebrities, hangers-on, and neo-con copycats who’ve turned the Keffiyeh into just another scarf. After all, the political connotations of the Kef may be just as fleeting and arbitrary as its fashionable-ness. Now, if Hugo Chavez starts wearing Uggs, we’ll be in real trouble.