Three years ago, in a small, cozy house in the Al-Jisr Al-Abyad neighborhood, nestled in the heart of Damascus, a close friend of mine and I were trying on clothes that had just arrived from Hama, a city roughly 220 kilometers to the north. The pants, sweaters, and dresses, in shades of white or beige, were adorned with geometric or natural prints in black, red, blue, and green, reflecting the distinctive Hamawi style. Initially, they seemed somewhat strange to me, but they quickly became my go-to choice whenever I wanted to wear something unique that expressed the culture and place I belong to.
A display of silk and textiles in Souk Al-Hamidiya, Damascus, Syria. Photo by Hanadi Traifeh, on Flickr (CC BY 2.0).
I can say that my relationship with these clothes, produced by the Wellfy group to revive traditional Hamawi crafts, has evolved dramatically in recent years, much like my relationship with many Syrian handmade products, especially after the devastating war that ravaged Syria. I recall often rushing through the famous ancient Al-Hamidiyah market, where everything imaginable can be found, just to reach a specific destination. Nowadays, I find myself pausing at shops in this market and others that sell traditional clothes or handmade crafts, spending time asking about their makers and origins. I have come to realize that there is a magical story behind each item, and I am captivated by every detail. These products have become a new connection; one capable of rebuilding my relationship with the place I belong to—a relationship that has always been and still is fraught with complexities and distortions.
What I also know is that I am not alone in this new equation today.
1914 – Winding and weighing silk in an oriental silk store, in Syria. Photo by Underwood & Underwood. Library of Congress.
The emergence of local identity
For more than a decade, Syria has endured tremendous losses on every level, particularly human, material, and psychological. Among these, cultural loss stands out as an especially harsh consequence of the war. Culture, in its simplest definition, encompasses what we know about each other and what we share, distinguishing us as a group from others. I cannot definitively say that before the war, we knew a great deal about each other in a country as diverse as ours, or that it was the war that solely caused us to lose this knowledge and culture. However, it undoubtedly pushed us to ask many questions and seek satisfying answers, at least for ourselves.
Wellfy’s block-printed clothing, textiles, and accessories inspired by traditional Syrian Hamawi crafts, at an exhibition in Germany. Photo courtesy of Wellfy.
The Wellfy project, which started about four years ago, is one such attempt. The idea began to take shape for journalist and writer Souad Jarrus as she visited Hama repeatedly, researching the state of traditional Hamawi crafts, which are part of her personal memory as a native of the town of Qusayr, located in the countryside of neighboring Homs. The condition of these crafts, which include block printing on fabric, Arabic embroidery, al-Sarma production1 and other traditional arts, was deeply saddening, as she noted. Only a few people still practiced them, and buying from them had become almost non-existent. Syrian crafts of all kinds—textiles, woodwork, copper, and glass—date back hundreds, and sometimes thousands, of years, forming one of the most important aspects of the country’s heritage and identity over the decades.
1950 – Weaving brocade in Damascus, Syria. Photo by Willem van de Poll, Nationaal Archief (CC0 1.0).
1950 – Young boys engraving a pattern on a copper plate in Damascus, Syria. Photo by Willem van de Poll, Nationaal Archief (CC0 1.0).
1950 – Woodworker creating a mosaic in Damascus, Syria. Photo by Willem van de Poll, Nationaal Archief (CC0 1.0).
Jarrus envisioned a way to revive Hamawi printing and integrate it with other traditional crafts such as handloom weaving2 and Arabic upholstery3, through innovative and modern designs. The challenge, as she explains to Al Rawiya, was that this craft was traditionally limited to tablecloths, cushions, and bedspreads. How could they encourage people to acquire these items and offer them pieces adorned with patterns typically reserved for home furnishings? Moreover, how could they adapt to the new economic realities in Syria, where spending priorities are focused on food and clothing, and little else?
“But nothing is impossible,” she asserts. “We were inspired by Coco Chanel, who revolutionized European fashion after World War II by using curtain fabric to create evening dresses and transforming workers’ clothes into stylish attire for women involved in post-war reconstruction.”
This approach, Jarrus believes, could similarly transform and elevate traditional Syrian crafts to meet contemporary needs and tastes.
The Wellfy exhibition at Zawaya Hall in Damascus displays a variety of bags and accessories. Photo courtesy of Wellfy.
Thus, Wellfy began producing a variety of items, including sweaters, pants, shawls, shopping bags, and handbags, each carrying an aesthetic, heritage, and intellectual uniqueness that reflects the local identity scattered by the war. Additionally, there is an environmental aspect to their production process, as these items are made entirely of eco-friendly materials and are scented with the same soap our grandmothers used to wash white cotton clothes. The symbols found on these items each have a story to tell, as narrated by the project owner.
“After studying the patterns of Hamawi blocks and trying to authenticate them, I felt that I had discovered a treasure in terms of cultural value. It was my duty as a writer to translate it for Syrians, especially the youth, through a product they could be proud of. Thus, the initiative adopted the original names of Arabic garments, such as the damir4, the sherwal5, and the kamis6, all decorated with drawings and symbols from the series of civilizations that Syria in general– and Hama in particular– have known. The priority was to develop a simple, environmentally friendly traditional garment with a distinct local identity, while also keeping up with fashion trends that lean towards comfortable sportswear.”
Wellfy’s exhibition in Germany showcases textiles and clothing that combines traditional Syrian artistry with contemporary designs. Photo courtesy of Wellfy.
What struck me profoundly about Wellfy products was the way people reacted to them, both inside and outside Syria. A friend from Hama, now living in Germany, asked Jarrus to create clothes for her and her daughter adorned with the traditional patterns, so she could share the story of her city and its heritage with her daughter as she grows up. Another resident in Damascus mentioned that she had never lived in Hama, but Wellfy’s project had taught her so much about a city that she never had the chance to know before. Friends, like myself, were initially unaware of this craft, but the remarkable thing about it is that a single piece of clothing or a small shopping bag was able to convey the entire story meant to be shared by the craft.
Souad also confides that she did not expect the idea to be accepted. However, after posting the first pictures on social media, she was surprised by the incredibly encouraging reactions and support from journalist friends, visual artists, and writers who helped refine and authenticate the concept. “I was most struck by people’s need for the story,” she says. “The names of the patterns, their history, and meanings—like Ajami, cotton nut, and canary bird—had a magical effect on people’s souls.
In collaboration with Syrian artist Butrus Al-Maari, who resides in Germany, they designed new patterned blocks, including the rabab7, the ataba8, the mud house, and the acanthus plant9, aiming to document the intangible heritage of the region. “We noticed a great interest in local identity among expatriates and received gratitude from the people of Hama for our efforts to preserve the city’s ancient heritage,” she adds. “At the exhibitions we participate in, I can distinguish Hama natives from others by the way they touch the products. Their fingers caress the pieces as if feeling the face of a loved one after a long absence.”
“We belong to this land”
Fortunately, Wellfy is not the only project of its kind. Perhaps the war and resulting fragmentation have motivated the launch and enhancement of more initiatives aimed at reviving and authenticating aspects of heritage, producing distinctly Syrian products that cater to modern tastes. This allows people to acquire and take pride in these products without feeling “outdated” and disconnected from contemporary life. The goal is not for people to revert to outdated habits, but to invest in, preserve, and evolve their heritage.
Anat’s fashion show in Damascus, curated by cultural preservationist Heike Weber, features designs reflecting the diverse heritage of Syrian regions. Photo by Hasan Belal.
For example, a few months ago, I, alongside friends, participated in a fashion show featuring clothes inspired by different Syrian cultures. The clothes were designed and their production overseen by Heike Weber, the founder of Anat, a project that seeks to preserve old textile traditions. Weber, who is German, has lived in Damascus for about forty years. When she shared her desire to organize the event with models who believe in her work’s vision, it wasn’t hard to find many enthusiasts eager to showcase a “purely Syrian and beautifully stunning product.” It was also important for us to learn the story behind each piece and the history of each stitch, which Ms. Weber explained with her extensive knowledge of Syrian embroidery. Personally, I was proud to present a shirt with traditional stitches and colors from Daraa, a governorate in southern Syria, and an embroidered dress from the villages of Jabal Al-Hass in southern Aleppo, featuring colorful domes mimicking the region’s distinctive traditional mud houses.
Sama’s Virgin Olive Dress blends modern fashion with Syrian artisanal craftsmanship. Photo courtesy of Sama Handmade.
Some of my friends also eagerly promote the creations of Sama Handmade, whose concept is to blend traditional Syrian crafts like embroidery and etamin with innovative designs inspired by Syria’s diverse life and culture. They produce handicrafts and clothes made by women who are not only preserving rich arts and heritage, but are also proving their presence as deserving members of society and gaining financial independence. Since 2014, Sama has produced thousands of pieces of clothing, accessories, and home decor within collections such as Mosaic (inspired by local patterns created with mosaic), Derani (referring to the Derani grapes native to Darayya, a town in the Damascene countryside), Tadmori (referring to Palmyra and its heritage), and Idelbi (which shines a light on the city’s olive production). These designs, overseen by local Syrian artists, form integral parts of the place’s identity and elements.
A Syrian artisan in Hama block prints fabric for Wellfy, preserving traditional techniques as part of the organization’s efforts to maintain cultural heritage during conflict. Video courtesy of Wellfy.
There are many other examples of items which highlight heritage, such as notebooks with Syrian fabric covers made of aghabani and saya10, lamps adorned with traditional designs, and hand-embroidered scarves decorated with stitches and patterns that hold deep cultural significance. Highlighting and preserving cultural components becomes more prominent during conflicts –something we have been seeing with Palestinians, whether inside the occupied territories or in exile. For example, in Damascus, I met several women who continue to weave clothes and accessories bearing Palestinian stitches and patterns as part of the struggle to preserve their heritage in the face of erasure and displacement by the Israeli entity, following their settlement in Syria.
Taking that into consideration, Souad Jarrus sees that heritage can in some way restore meaning to people who have experienced conflict: “People in conflict areas suffer severe psychological trauma that plunges them into absurdity and futility. They have an urgent need to awaken elements of strength within them. In the chaos prevailing in the world today, young generations have an urgent need for meaning. Wellfy sought to find these elements in our cultural reservoir and restore the neglected heritage components, including clothing, to remain connected to this land.”
Local culture is “on the frontline”
Discussions about the stereotypical view towards our local culture in the region are long, complex, and not new. I now reflect on all the things that, at a certain stage in my life—like many others—led me to view our crafts and culture with a degree of contempt, favoring an admiration for everything coming from the “other world,” – the Western world– which had come to represent the ideal image of modernity and development for us. This included clothes, hairstyles, spoken language, and all aspects of daily life. Certainly, the media, educational curricula, and other factors played significant roles in making us absorb this cultural and social dominance, decade after decade, to eventually view ourselves as “below [global] standards.”
However, the events our region has experienced in the last two decades have pushed and encouraged us to challenge these predominant narratives.
Pierre Hamati wearing a Wellfy shirt with blue floral designs and Arabic calligraphy. Photo courtesy of Wellfy.
I spoke with several young men and women who, in recent years, have developed a similar, newfound appreciation for our local culture. Pierre Hamati, a Syrian artist in his twenties, shared that clothing which references heritage has become one of his go-to choices. He sees in them a beauty and distinction “without the need for explanation, just as we feel the value and beauty of any artwork without necessarily understanding its meaning.” He adds, “With my deep understanding of the uniqueness of our heritage and the importance of preserving it, I automatically feel special when wearing pieces with these qualities and encourage those around me to acquire them. The sense of uniqueness and exclusivity they provide is truly beautiful.”
For Ghalia, a thirty-something Syrian engineer living in France, it goes beyond the idea of “wearing a purely Syrian product,” which she has come to love as she owns several pieces of traditional clothing recently produced in Syria. It evokes a “feeling of strength and connection to shapes, colors, and meanings rooted in us since childhood without us fully realizing it consciously, enabling us to say: we are from this place, we have something to be proud of, and it is not less special than any other local identity anywhere in the world.”
Ghalia believes that her recent interest in embracing her culture, aside from the many questions raised by the conflicts in the region as a whole, is due to the innovative ways many Syrian local initiatives have been able to design, produce, and market themselves both inside and outside the country.
Discussing this “dilemma,” if I may call it that, is not always easy. The difficult reality from which these projects emerged limits their ability to continue their work due to several factors, the first being that they are based in a conflict area with an uncertain future. These initiatives also suffer from high production costs and marketing difficulties, especially abroad, thus limiting their production and financial returns compared to the high prices of the final product. The impact these initiatives aim to leave on us and on parts of our identity and belonging will not be sustainable and tangible without real support for their efforts. But what we do know is that the seed has been planted, and we just need to water it, even slowly and patiently.
1Al-Sarma is a style of Syrian weaving which uses gold threats to create unique patterns.
2Handloom weaving refers to the traditional craft of producing fabric using a manually operated loom. This practice has deep historical roots in Syrian culture, particularly in cities like Damascus and Aleppo, known for their intricate textiles and patterns.
3Arabic upholstery in Syria refers to the traditional craft of creating upholstered furniture and textiles that often feature intricate designs and patterns reflective of Syrian cultural and artistic heritage.
4Damir is a jacket with wide sleeves, typically worn without a collar or buttons.
5Sherwal refers to traditional loose-fitting trousers that are commonly worn in countries like Lebanon, Syria, Jordan, and Palestine. These trousers are typically baggy, tapering at the ankles, and are often made from lightweight fabrics suitable for the region’s climate.
6Kamis refers a traditional, long tunic that is often worn over loose-fitting trousers, such as the sherwal
7The rabab is a traditional stringed musical instrument commonly found in various parts of the Middle East, including Syria
8Ataba is a traditional form of Arabic folk poetry and song that is deeply rooted in the cultural heritage of Syria and other parts of the Levant.
9The Syrian acanthus (known in Arabic as “العاقوب”) is a plant native to the Mediterranean region, including Syria, and has a rich history and cultural significance. Here are some key points about the Syrian acanthus.
10The saya is a traditional, long piece of clothing that covers the entire body, reaching the ankles or even the floor.
Zeina Shahla
Zeina is a Syrian journalist based in Damascus. Her work focuses on environmental, cultural, and social matters, and she particularly works on documenting non-material Syrian heritage. Zeina is also the creator of Turath Masmou3, a podcast focusing on Syrian culture and heritage.
- Zeina Shahla
