Our story
Rooted at the table.
Habb, حب, means love. It's what filled our grandmothers' homes: the patterns they stitched into every dress, the breakfast spread that pulled the whole family to one table, the words we grew up hearing before we understood them.
HABB carries that into what you wear every day. Not as a costume, as something you keep close.
What we carry
Three things from home
The stitch
Tatreez, the cross-stitch our grandmothers wore and passed down, worked into our trims, tags and details.
The table
Manakish, labneh, knafeh, coffee from the dallah. The food that turned every visit into a gathering.
The words
Alhamdulillah, sahtein, habibi. The everyday Arabic we grew up with, printed where it belongs.
Postcards from home
Wish you were here
Texts from home
Pour the tea. We'll text you first.
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