Between Paris and Casablanca
People often ask where the collection comes from, expecting a mood board. There is no mood board.
Observation, not archive
What there is instead: a colour discovered on a building facade, the geometry of an Amazigh ornament, the rhythm of a street at a particular hour, the texture of a material found by accident, the atmosphere of a family home.
These fragments get collected, carried around for months, and eventually translated into something with a handle and a seam. The translation is the whole job. A colour that works on a wall in Casablanca does not automatically work on a bag, and finding out why takes time.
Two cities doing different work
Paris is where things are drawn. It is also where the constraint lives: the discipline of a line, the editing, the decision to remove one element too many and then put half of it back.
Casablanca is where things become real, and where the drawing meets someone who knows exactly what leather will and will not do. A shape that looks resolved on paper can be impossible to assemble. That conversation changes the design, every time.
The movement between the two is not a logistical inconvenience. It is the method.
What comes out of it
Sculptural volumes rather than soft ones. Bold colour combinations rather than safe ones. Graphic silhouettes that read from a distance.
Objects deeply rooted in Moroccan culture, and made to be understood by someone who has never been there.