Rasha El Hallak: Fasila Collective and the Poetry of Fashion

Fashion often claims to be about storytelling, but rarely does it begin with words themselves. Fasila Collective, founded by Rasha El Hallak, does exactly that. Built on the idea that Arabic poetry — centuries old, charged with philosophy, pride, and tenderness — can be translated into garments, Fasila turns verse into clothing that is lived in, embodied, and remembered. Each collection begins not with images or mood boards, but with a line of poetry: Al-Mutanabbi’s defiant self-love, Wallada bint al-Mustakfi’s fierce independence. These voices are not ornament; they are architecture.

This week, Fasila is debuting its global campaign — featuring Daria Strokous photographed against the brutalist backdrop of Habitat 67 in Canada. The imagery sets poetry against concrete, history against modernity, underscoring the brand’s mission: to prove that Arabic verse is not relic, but resonance — timeless, universal, and alive in the now.

Fasila is not only a fashion label but a cultural statement. It repositions the Middle East from consumer to creator, offering a vision where heritage is not nostalgia but source code — a foundation for building a globally relevant, intellectually rigorous, and emotionally resonant form of luxury.

In this conversation with Author Magazine’s Editor-in-Chief, Oona Chanel, Rasha El Hallak reflects on how she translates verse into form, why silence is as powerful as sound, and why Fasila’s mission is ultimately about cultural bridges as much as clothes.

Oona: Fasila is described as “reviving Arabic poetry into clothes.” How do you translate something as ephemeral as a verse into a physical garment a woman can wear?

Rasha El Hallak: Translating a verse into a garment is an act of translating culture and history, not just text. It begins with the soul of the poem. The rhythm of a line might inspire the drape and flow of a fabric, while a metaphor might define a palette. For Al-Mutanabbi’s work, full of strength, we used structured shoulders and assertive lines. The embroidery is placed thoughtfully to interact with the body, so the verse isn’t just on the wearer, but with the wearer — turning the ephemeral into a tangible, wearable experience.

Oona: Many brands lean on heritage as decoration. Fasila treats heritage as narrative. How do you protect that depth in an industry that often prefers surface?

Rasha: We protect that depth by making the text the origin of the design process, not an afterthought. A collection begins with a deep reading of a poem, and that narrative informs every decision — the cut, the fabric, the technique. This makes us less vulnerable to fleeting trends because our foundation isn’t fashion’s cycle, it’s centuries of literature and emotion. For me, fashion is not surface level; it’s a powerful way of self-expression. Fasila allows me to share Arab heritage with authenticity and pride.

Oona: Your campaign with Daria Strokous at Habitat 67 in Canada placed poetry against brutalist architecture. What did that contrast reveal?

Rasha: That campaign was a statement of modern strength. Al-Mutanabbi’s verses celebrate unapologetic self-love, so the woman who wears them embodies a warrior. Our silhouettes are architectural, and placing them against Habitat 67’s concrete geometry created harmony between garment and building. More importantly, the shoot in Canada consciously took an ancient poem into a starkly modern context — proving its timeless relevance and global resonance.

Oona: Quiet luxury is often tied to European minimalism. How do you define it through Arabic poetry?

Rasha: Quiet luxury, for us, is intellectual and spiritual richness. The “quiet” lies not in absence, but in meaning. The luxury of a Fasila piece is not in a logo, but in the verse embroidered on a sleeve — words that carry weight, history, and philosophy. It’s an inward-facing luxury, understood by those who recognize the depth of the words. A quiet declaration of identity rooted in eloquence and heritage.

Oona: Fasila is both global and rooted. Do you see yourself as exporting Arabic culture outward, or inviting the world inward?

Rasha: Inviting inward. “Exporting” feels one-directional, like performance. What we want is dialogue. The themes in the poetry we choose — pride, love, independence — are universal. By placing these verses on modern silhouettes, we create an access point that allows people everywhere to connect with Arabic identity as something intellectual, artistic, and contemporary.

Oona: In classical Arabic poetry, the unsaid is often as powerful as the spoken. Do you design with absence as a tool?

Rasha: Absolutely. Fasila itself means a pause, a space for breath. That philosophy defines our approach: clean silhouettes, uncluttered forms, and strategic use of negative space. The garment becomes a frame of silence around the words, ensuring the poetry has space to resonate.

Oona: The Middle East is still often described as a consumer market for fashion. How does Fasila rewrite that narrative?

Rasha: Fasila is shifting the region from interpreter to author. We are not borrowing heritage as decoration; we are building from it. Our literary history is the source code of a new luxury aesthetic. By doing this, we assert that our culture is not only a market but a wellspring of original ideas, capable of producing fashion that is globally compelling.

Oona: You’ve placed women like Wallada bint al-Mustakfi at the center of your storytelling. How does this reshape Arab identity?

Rasha: It reclaims the complexity of Arab womanhood. Wallada was a poet and a figure of independence in the 11th century — a feminist before the word existed. By re-centering her, we prove that empowerment and intellectual freedom are not imported concepts but part of our own legacy. It complicates stereotypes and offers women today authentic role models from their own history.

Oona: If Fasila were itself a poem — one line to capture its soul — what would it be?

Rasha: They clothed themselves in poetry, and the world paused to read.

Oona: Looking ahead twenty years, do you want Fasila’s legacy to be the clothes or the cultural bridges?

Rasha: The cultural bridges. The clothes are the medium, but the mission is larger: sparking curiosity, pride, and dialogue around Arabic literature. If Fasila is remembered for shifting perspectives and building bridges, then we have succeeded.

“They clothed themselves in poetry, and the world paused to read.”

Interview by Oona Chanel