Nazzal Studio: Meet the fashion brand highlighting Palestinian heritage and displacement

The Palestinian-Jordanian designer first captured global attention with her graduate collection What Should Have Been Home back in 2023. It was a poignant exploration of heritage, displacement and identity that reinterpreted traditional Palestinian silhouettes in bold, contemporary forms such as the keffiyeh reimagined as a hoodie or made from lace. One of her standout pieces — a jacket lined with the names of Palestinians killed in 2022 — gained widespread attention on social media following the October 2023 assault on Gaza. 

Nazzal, whose work now manifests in her fashion brand Nazzal Studio, views herself more as an artist than a designer — she believes fashion holds transformative power in driving social and political change. Her handmade pieces have become a canvas for cultural expression, worn by influential figures like Saint Levant, Elyanna and Zeyne, who embody the intersection of style and activism.

In conversation with HUNGER, Nazzal delves deeper into the inspiration behind her designs, exploring the personal and cultural narratives that shape her work.

The What Should Have Been Home collection is incredibly powerful. What inspired it both visually and emotionally, and what did you hope to communicate through it? 

The What Should Have Been Home collection is very close to my heart. It was inspired both visually and emotionally by the stories of resistance, loss and endurance within the Palestinian community. The idea behind the collection is to fuse traditional Palestinian silhouettes with modern, contemporary designs, creating a powerful visual narrative of resilience. At its core, the collection seeks to communicate the strength that comes from cultural preservation and defiance in the face of oppression. One of the most poignant aspects of the collection is how it illustrates the act of resistance — from the subtle act of holding onto heritage to the stark, direct moments of Palestinians standing up against injustice. One of the key pieces, the deformed puffer coat, references the iconic images of Palestinians being detained or oppressed, with the garment taking on the form of both protection and resistance. Through this collection, I wanted to honour the Palestinian spirit and evoke a sense of solidarity and strength. It’s not just about clothing — it’s a visual tribute to the resilience of a people and a culture that refuses to be erased. We hope that those who see it feel empowered by the narrative it tells.

What role do you think fashion has in preserving Palestinian heritage?

At the end of the day, fashion plays a crucial role in social and political change. It’s not just about clothing — it’s a reflection of history and identity, much like symbolic items such as the keffiyeh. Fashion, like art, is an expression of resilience and resistance that transcends borders. It carries powerful messages that can’t be easily silenced or erased. Zionists have yet to find a way to combat the strength and influence of art in all its forms, which continues to be a vital tool for preserving and asserting Palestinian culture and resistance.

Do you have a favourite piece that you’ve worked on?

Art is subjective at the end of the day, and the things I create are an extension of me and how I view my culture. Everything an artist creates embodies who they feel they are and how they express themselves. It’s so difficult to pick a favourite, but one piece that is very close to my heart is the coin piece. It consists of 10,000 Palestinian coins weighing 72kg. This piece is deeply personal because I worked with refugee women in Jordan to hand-sew the coins. As they worked, they shared stories about our homeland, “the home that should have been”. It felt like weaving history together, and that connection to my roots makes it especially meaningful to me.

Was there anything that inspired you to work in fashion?

I don’t see myself as a designer — I see myself as an artist. And I always knew I was going to be an artist. Creativity is so human. It’s the closest thing to your inner child. At the end of the day, my work in fashion is just my medium as an artist and as a form of artistic expression that allows me to explore and communicate the deeper narratives of my heritage and opinions.

Do you feel a certain pressure or responsibility when representing cultural heritage in your designs?

Yes. There is a deep sense of responsibility when representing cultural heritage, especially as an artist. Growing up, I was privileged to have safety and opportunities that many others do not. Because of that privilege, I feel a responsibility to use my platform and my art to reach a larger audience and shed light on Palestinian culture and struggles. It’s not just about creating something aesthetically pleasing — it’s about telling a story, honouring a history and ensuring that the essence of Palestinian heritage is respected. I’m grateful, Alhamdulilah, that I’ve been able to do this and share these narratives, knowing that my work goes beyond just art. It’s a statement of identity, resistance and resilience.

There’s been a lot of discourse around cultural appropriation versus appreciation. How do you think the world can appreciate Palestinian fashion without risking appropriation?

I think the most important difference would be to buy from Palestinians. That is how you appreciate the heritage and the cause — you wear Palestinian designers. There’s a fine line between appreciation and appropriation, and while many people are drawn to the Arab aesthetic, it can be painful when that culture is borrowed or distorted without respect for its roots. Wearing a Palestinian design by a Palestinian designer isn’t just about fashion — it’s a form of support and solidarity. It’s about honouring the culture in its original form, not as a trend, but as part of a larger struggle for justice.

What is the process behind making each piece like — especially when you craft them yourself?

The process is often chaotic, but I believe in the power of research. I always start with a concept, then I dive into references — photographs, stories and history. I connect with people, talk to those who share the same experiences and immerse myself in the culture to understand its true essence. Each piece is a journey, and it’s not just about the final design but also about understanding what we’re representing. It’s also crucial for me to stay connected to the visual language of our history, so I look at how Palestinian identity has been portrayed through the years, and that informs my work in a deeply meaningful way.