Lebanon’s in-the-know crowd is increasingly sporting a new style; faded ’90s jeans, worn leather jackets, and patchwork garments are becoming more common throughout the city.
But if you take a closer look, this fashion revolution is driven by a wave of sustainable and ethical initiatives in the country.
At the centre of this shift is a group of organisations founded over the last ten years. FabricAid Lebanon, founded in 2016 by Omar Itani, is an organisation that rescues, sorts, cleans, upcycles, and redistributes second-hand clothing through a social enterprise model.
Other spots, such as Depot Vente and Vintage Magic Beirut, offer a more curated selection of pre-owned goods. Meanwhile, up-cycling labels like Emergency Room Beirut and Takasis transform fabrics, scraps, and donated garments into new pieces.
Turning Lebanon’s excess garments into sustainable fashion
One catalyst behind this sustainable shift was the growing environmental concerns within the fashion community.
Over-consumption has long been encouraged in Lebanon’s fashion sector. “The Lebanese mindset has historically been very focused on having the latest trends and high-end luxury fashion,” founder of Takasis, Lynn El Hajj, tells The New Arab.
“People did thrift during and after the war in Lebanon. However, it was not something you would proudly mention, rather more of a quiet necessity that was tied to poverty and survival," Lynn adds.
Mindsets began to shift during Lebanon’s mounting waste crisis in 2015. When the main landfill serving Beirut closed, piles of uncollected garbage began spilling onto the streets and riverbeds. To deal with the rubbish, people resorted to ad hoc dumping and the toxic burning of trash.
“The overconsumption problem was suddenly visible throughout the country,” Lynn says.
Meanwhile, Eric Mathieu Ritter, founder of Emergency Room Beirut, recalls visiting the souks of Tripoli a lot during that time.
“At the end of each season, whatever they did not sell, they would throw on the streets or in the rivers. I was exposed first-hand to how much our excess clothing waste impacts the environment,” Eric tells The New Arab.
“There were so many clothes going to waste, while at the same time, there were so many people who were unemployed and looking for work. I wanted to find a way to fix both of these issues.”
The brand’s name, chosen in 2018, reflects the sense of urgency Ritter felt: Emergency Room Beirut emerged as an immediate response to a national emergency.
Eric’s design process now relies on working instinctively with the materials he finds. “I go to the souks and explore different fabrics, colours, embellishments and textures," he explains.
Unlike fast fashion brands, which order custom materials and designs, Eric works with what is already in circulation. After sourcing the materials, he designs bold, singular pieces that cannot be replicated. “Their uniqueness adds value, too,” he says.
Lynn works in a similar way. “I collect different fabric scraps to make bags, purses, charms, and hats,” she explains. Their pieces are often made from embroidered and printed fabrics.
“There is a sense that I am saving the cultural heritage of the artisanal cloth, too. We use everything,” Lynn expands. “Even our scraps we use as stuffings for the charms.”
Upcycled products have been well received in the country, though the success of these brands marks a wider cultural shift in Lebanon.
“People still idealise high-street and luxury fashion, but the crisis shifted people's perceptions,” Lynn says. “Customers are now more aware of sustainability and the impact of fast fashion on the environment.”
Thrifting and upcycled pieces have also started becoming trendy in their own right.
Second Base, Depot Vente and Vintage Magic Beirut are all popular thrift shops in Beirut. A large community of Instagram shops selling second-hand pieces has also emerged.
“People do not simply want to look the same as everybody else anymore,” Lynn says. “They value the second-hand or upcycled options because of how unique the products are.”
When sustainable fashion meets necessity
In other cases, sustainable fashion also served as a pathway to providing affordable and accessible clothing in Lebanon.
In 2018, Omar Itani realised the need for a sustainable and affordable clothing system in Lebanon after a conversation with his building’s janitor. Every Christmas, the families of the building would donate clothes to the janitor.
“He admitted to me that when the donated clothes did not fit him or the people he knew, he would just throw them away,” Omar says. “I realised how ineffective the existing donation system was.”
He set about creating a more dignified, structured approach to clothing redistribution in Lebanon.
“Our main aim was making sure that clothing could be affordable and accessible for those who need it,” Omar says.
“The fact that they are second-hand and sustainably sourced also ensures that garments are not needlessly thrown away. We also wanted to ensure that customers have a dignified shopping experience. Souk El Khlanj is our network of ultra-low-cost shops where prices are around one dollar per item.”
The need for FabricAid has only been compounded in recent years. Lebanon’s ongoing economic collapse has priced international brands even further out of reach for a great deal of the population.
“The demand for affordable clothing alternatives has only increased,” Omar expands. “More people are shopping second-hand out of necessity.”
Training Lebanon’s future fashion leaders
Beyond efforts from brands and organisations, institutions have also stepped in to reframe fashion education in a more sustainable manner.
Creative Space Beirut (CSB), launched in 2011 by Sarah Hermez and Caroline Simonelli, is a free school for fashion design dedicated to students from underserved backgrounds. The programme admits just ten students a year, offering a three-year curriculum that combines creative training, business development, and textile design.
For Sarah, sustainability is woven into both pedagogy and practice. “The importance of slow and ethical fashion is at the heart of our curriculum,” she says.
“For instance, the students are encouraged to work with donated fabric from designers around the world.”
This dead stock fabric would ordinarily be thrown away. Through Creative Space Beirut, the students breathe new life into the material.
In 2024, students upcycled designer pieces from Archive Studios, transforming them into fresh, original designs through hands-on deconstruction and creative reimagining.
This year’s students collaborated with Mukhi Sisters to create a line of one-of-a-kind bag charms inspired by the Better Than Yesterday collection. Using upcycled fabrics, beaded gemstones, and integrated messaging, the pieces combined sustainability with storytelling and artisanal craftsmanship.
“We also teach our students how to use sustainable, environmentally friendly techniques,” she explains. Students learn embroidery, natural dyeing, and surface manipulation techniques, often collaborating with artisans across Lebanon.
“By pursuing these initiatives and changing the way fashion is taught, we can guide the industry and its future leaders onto a more positive path,” Sarah concludes.
Amelia Dhuga studied history at the University of Cambridge before relocating to Beirut, Lebanon. She now covers a range of topics from Tunisia, Lebanon and Morocco. Over the years, she has written for a variety of leading newspapers and magazines, including The Guardian, Al Jazeera, New Lines and The New Arab
Follow her on Instagram: @ameliadhuga