How are Lebanese designers coping mere months after disaster?

This piece was originally written in December 2020.



The impact of the blast on designer Krikor Jabotian's atelier


4 months on from the Beirut explosion, we spoke to members of the Lebanese fashion community to assess the impact and recovery.

“It is a country which has taken so much from us and never given us anything in return,” Salim Azzam, a designer from Bater-Al Chouf, Mount Lebanon, and winner of the Fashion Trust Arabia Award 2019, told me. A country which has been disproportionately ravaged by crisis, it’s apparent that there’s a dichotomy between the citizens’ resentment for the government that has caused them so much trauma and the deep pride they hold for the country’s people. Azzam explained that, “Lebanon for me is the Lebanon that I created in my head.” It is a feeling that other Lebanese artists understand, because “we create and share the Lebanon that we like most.” For Azzam this is the culture, the people, the mountains and the generosity. 


Coming on top of political instability, inflation and the pandemic, a devastating blast occurred in Beirut, the country’s capital, on 4th August. 2,750 tonnes of ammonium nitrate had been left in a warehouse at the city’s port for 6 years, a fact that was known to officials and politicians, making the explosion a case of negligence rather than a tragic accident. The blast decimated the port and destroyed large parts of the surrounding city, displacing hundreds of thousands of people, killing almost 200 and injuring 6,500. Some of the worst-hit neighbourhoods were Gemmayzeh and Mar Mikhael, home to many of the city’s designers – their workshops, offices, showrooms, boutiques and archives – and therefore deeply scarring the Lebanese fashion industry.




Look from Roni Helou's S/S20 collection

“Lebanese designers are known to be red carpet designers, but we also have a progressive scene with new designers in Ready-To-Wear, breaking norms and creating something really different,” Krikor Jabotian described the Lebanese fashion scene to Forbes last year. It’s true, some of Lebanese fashion’s most famous names include couturiers Elie Saab and Zuhair Murad, whose elaborate, luxurious designs speak to the style conventions of the Middle East’s wealthy. On the other hand, you have a new generation of designers whose values are intrinsic to their work: ready-to-wear designer and another winner of Fashion Trust Arabia’s first annual competition, Roni Helou, creates androgynous pieces from vintage materials. Yassmin Saleh, co-founder of her eponymous label, uses fashion to spread a message, with her S/S20 collection being inspired by the political and economic situation in Lebanon. Artisans, whose knowledge of their craft goes back generations, work side-by-side with the city’s budding talent. For instance, embroiderer Salim Azzam’s label utilises the skills of local craftswomen, currently employing around 40 people and working to maintain the craft of embroidery, “one of the most beautiful identities of the mountain area.”


Though Lebanon is home to many talented creatives, even before the blast, the situation wasn’t so easy for fashion designers. “To be honest it’s always been a very difficult situation for anyone who has wanted to start their business here,” said Azzam, blaming a saturated market, particularly when creating a product for a niche. Helou noted that “towards the end of 2019, things became gradually difficult because of the country’s instability,” which would lead to the October Revolution. Whereas Tania Fares, Lebanese fashion writer and founder of Fashion Trust Arabia, asserted that the plummeting economic situation made it “very tough to be able to sell in Lebanon.” Altogether, this paints a dire situation for Beiruti designers, and all this before the earth-shattering events of 4th August.




Inside Salim Azzam's studio


The heartbreak of having years of work wiped away in moments left many dejected. Helou expressed this, saying it took him a while to get back on his feet and to muster up the desire to “rebuild what was so easily destroyed.” His atelier and home was located in the Mar Mikhael district and was severely damaged: “The impact of the explosion caused windows to blow up and doors and furniture to fly out.” Saleh described how her atelier and boutique in Gemmayzeh was affected: furniture was destroyed, the stock was no longer in a sellable condition and “everything we have been working so hard for over the past two years has been shattered in a split second.” Fares’ team had a small office that was “completely demolished”. Despite this, some – like Helou – downplay their own personal losses, putting into perspective the true widespread impact of the disaster: “we took solace in the fact that our building was still standing unlike so many other residents of Beirut who were rendered homeless.” 




Yasmin Saleh's atelier in the aftermath of the explosion


Rather than re-building, many creatives have simply relocated. Saleh and her team were able to relocate to an empty apartment in Raouche, their new de facto atelier and showroom. Since Fares’ parents own a hotel in the mountains of Lebanon, the team felt it would be better to work from a small space there. Helou’s team was already working remotely because of the pandemic, which was helpful in getting business running again after the blast “given that we no longer had a place to work together.” Helou has abandoned his damaged home and atelier for the time being and moved to his family’s village house. Whilst speaking to Fares, she told me “there are some parts [of the city] that will never be re-built”, whether that’s due to lacking finances or residents who have left the country. Certainly, it will take years to restore the city.


The community is split: some, as Fares told me, have left Beirut because “it’s not sustainable to live here and to have a business here”, not just because of the blast but the economic crisis too. Saleh echoed this, noting that it’s especially difficult when you are a fledgling brand that still needs time to thrive. “Living in Lebanon is bringing us down, and we are facing barriers that businesses should not face just by being in the country,” she said, though she maintained that she would love to stay in Beirut. Even those that are determined to stay have had to rethink their business approach. Going forward, Azzam has made a business decision to “not invest in the country but to invest in the people of the country.” That means continuing with hiring and producing locally but having a market abroad. Helou also hopes to reach a wider audience, mentioning that “our main focus right now is to expand our online presence.” He told me that “the thought of ever leaving Lebanon pains me because I feel that it is now up to us, the Lebanese youth, to reclaim our country. The most responsible decision for me would be to keep my base and production in Beirut to participate in reviving the Lebanese economy, but to still be able to move around when needed.”


Some may be sceptical about the importance of fashion in re-building the city after such damage. To those people, Helou’s pragmatic answer is that “all that matters at this point is local production. Whether it is agriculture, fashion or any other domain, we need to revive our economy by supporting the people who are inducing positive change.” Whilst Azzam shed light on the important role of the country’s creatives: “If anything, I think it’s the creative people that have put the name of Lebanon on the map. They’re the people who are the ambassadors of this country.” Fares’ parting words encouraged the Lebanese community to “support their local designers, local artists.” Whilst this is true, economic pressures in the country make it all too apparent that an international market is vital to the prosperity of Beiruti designers. If there was ever a time to support Lebanese creatives, it’s now. 


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