Ayishat Akanbi

Ayishat Akanbi is a London-based stylist and writer known for merging style with substance. She’s worked with brands like Nike, Converse, and Adidas, and styled artists across the music industry. As a cultural commentator, she explores identity and ideology through open, nuanced dialogue, sharing her insights on global stages like Google HQ, the Sydney Opera House, and Tate Modern.

We met with Ayishat to talk about self-expression, storytelling, and how tokyobike fits into her everyday life.

For many of us, cycling was our first real taste of freedom as kids. That feeling doesn’t fade with age, if anything, it deepens.

Q. Tell us a bit about what you do and what inspires your work?


I’m a fashion stylist, writer, cultural commentator, and occasional DJ. What inspires me most is potential, both my own and other people’s. Much of my work is about helping others realise theirs. Whether it’s through styling that boosts someone’s confidence or writing that shifts a perspective, I’m drawn to the ways creative work can be transformational or revealing. 

As a stylist, I’m inspired by the reality that different outfits can change the doors you walk through. And I want people to walk through as many doors as possible, and feel their best while in those rooms. An aspect of my working life is holding onto what brought me joy as a child. I’m slowly doing everything that struck me as interesting when I was small.

Q. Where's home and what are the places and spaces that make you happy?

Home is currently London. I won’t say where specifically because I’ve lived all over London and I can feel at home in any area. But as for where I’m happiest, that would be on trains, road trips, long-haul flights, and in the shower. I like liminal spaces, places that offer a sense of movement without demand. I really do like the journey more than the destination, even when it's a place I want to go.

I grew up in Southampton, a port city on the south coast of England, where the river was quite literally my back garden. That early closeness to water shaped me. To this day, I feel most at home near rivers, seas, or any body of water.

And as for London’s canals — I don’t discriminate. I like them all.

Q. What does cycling mean for you and where do like to ride?

Cycling, for me, is a way to stay active. But more than that, it adds a bit of shimmer to the mundane. I’m no longer just “going food shopping,” I’m “riding my bike to Sainsbury’s.” Suddenly, routine tasks become small adventures.

It also keeps me present, alert, and focused. Three qualities that feel harder to sustain in a digitally noisy world.

Cycling demands your attention; there's a built-in risk that’s significantly reduced by staying aware, and I appreciate anything that pulls me back into the moment.

What I love most, though, is how cycling transforms your relationship with your surroundings. On a bike, you notice things differently. Your field of vision expands. You're more likely to look up, take a different route, and rediscover familiar places with fresh eyes. If you ever feel like you’re falling out of love with where you live, try experiencing it on a bike. It really does change things.


There’s also something nostalgic about it. For many of us, cycling was our first real taste of freedom as kids. That feeling doesn’t fade with age, if anything, it deepens.

Even in the chaos of London traffic, cycling is cathartic. My favourite time to ride is early in the morning. I realised this after cycling home from a DJ set in Shepherd’s Bush to Bow at 1am — pure bliss.

Before I leave the house now, I often ask myself: Can I bring my bike? I’d take it everywhere if I could. Most of the time I cycle to run errands or visit friends. I love cycling around East London — great bike lanes, and so many fellow cyclists. It feels like being in a quiet community with strangers who all get the same joy from it.

Since picking it back up as an adult, I’ve started building my dream bike. My Bisou is an extension of my personal style: bold, bright, classic, well-made, and joyful.


Honestly, it’s one of the most beautiful things I own. I partly know this because nothing that belongs to me has ever been complimented quite as much as my bike.