Fashion rarely pauses for the news cycle. Even when the world feels unsettled, ateliers remain active and collections continue to unfold behind studio doors. As geopolitical instability creates ripples through the industry, designers must navigate disrupted logistics, anxious clients, shifting timelines and most importantly, their teams. Across the Middle East, this balancing act is hardly new. Over the decades, designers have worked through wars, economic upheaval, the Covid pandemic and – in Lebanon’s case – one of the most devastating explosions in modern urban history. The question, many say, is not whether fashion should continue during difficult moments, but how.
“In the early days of uncertainty, I saw someone write, ‘This is not the time for fashion.’ I completely disagree,” says Dubai-based couturier Rami Al Ali. For him, halting his work was never the answer. “Fashion is not just about clothes or consumption; it is an entire ecosystem. Behind every collection, there are artisans, suppliers, manufacturers, photographers, models, media teams and other professionals whose livelihoods depend on the industry.” He believes that creatives should think about how they can protect and support the people who depend on the industry.
Nowhere is this philosophy more pronounced than in Lebanon. When the Beirut port explosion tore through the city in August 2020, its impact was devastating. “In a single afternoon, life was divided into a before and an after,” says Lebanese designer Sandra Mansour. Her atelier and home were both damaged in the blast, forcing her to confront an entirely new reality as a designer and leader. “My first instinct was not about collections or deadlines, but about making sure everyone was safe and that we could rebuild together. An atelier is not just a workplace – it’s people, families and livelihoods.” What followed, however, revealed the remarkable strength of Beirut’s creative community. Within days, designers, artists, craftsmen and friends were helping each other clean studios, share materials and find temporary workspaces, she adds. “There was an extraordinary sense that we were all rebuilding something larger than our individual brands.” Mansour explains that when you work in the region, resilience is not a slogan; it’s part of the daily routine.
Lebanese couturier Georges Chakra has witnessed the same resilience firsthand. “Living with the constant threat of war, economic collapse and political instability, Lebanese people have become desensitised in many ways,” he says. “This is something the country has been dealing with since the 1970s, so people here have rewired themselves to keep moving forward despite the uncertainty.” However, the determination to rebuild remains deeply ingrained within the creative community. “Creating art through war has made us resilient,” Chakra shares. “Whether people will rebuild is no longer a question – they just do.”
Overall, Arab designers have become accustomed to working within shifting circumstances, adapting their studios and operations to times of uncertainty. For Bahraini label Noon By Noor, founded by sisters Shaikha Noor Al Khalifa and Shaikha Haya Al Khalifa, maintaining stability within the studio becomes a priority. “While it (the current scenario) has affected our physical presence and some of the day-to-day studio operations, we have mastered the ability to not let it affect our workflow and commitments,” says Shaikha Noor. The founders explain that being consistent and having a strong presence during this period help reassure everyone that things will be okay.
The pandemic also proved to be a defining moment in the Middle East. At 1309 Studios, founded by Qatari designer Ghada Al Subaey, the experience reshaped how the brand prepares for uncertainty. “Fashion is an industry that relies on timing, but also requires adaptability,” she shares. Producing mostly in-house allows her studio to have control over timelines, though sourcing fabrics internationally still requires flexibility when shipping routes become unpredictable. The pandemic, she explains, forced many designers to rethink how their businesses operate. The result was a greater sense of preparedness.
Beyond studio walls, fashion magazines have often served as cultural witnesses to moments of upheaval, especially through profound covers. Undeniably, the October 1945 issue of British Vogue, titled Peace and Reconstruction, remains a powerful historical document, marking the end of the Second World War and the beginning of a new dawn. Decades later, the July 2020 cover of British Vogue honoured essential workers during the pandemic, acknowledging the efforts of those who put their lives on the line to save others. Closer to home, Vogue Arabia’s November 2023 cover – featuring Palestinian tatreez embroidery and the words “Stand for Humanity” – reflected collective solidarity. “When the region is often spoken about mainly through politics, instability and negativity, it is important to show the strong creative energy that exists here. Platforms like Vogue Arabia help highlight talents who tell their stories through creativity, presenting the richness and diversity of our cultures,” notes Chakra.
So is fashion frivolous in times of global unrest? Hardly. It may not solve the world’s problems, but it sustains a world of beauty, which is perhaps exactly what we need. As Al Ali puts it, “Creativity does not stop during difficult times – it becomes more meaningful. Surrounding ourselves with beauty and hope is not superficial; it’s human.”
