
Founder Stefan in Aleppo
By Stefan Peinemann
"Okay, just hand me your passport," said the taxi driver at the border between Beirut and Syria. "I’ll be right back." It took him 30 minutes to return, and in the meantime, I had received perhaps twenty nods from soldiers armed with AK-47s. Everywhere I looked, there were guns and military vehicles – more than I had ever seen. When my driver finally returned, everything seemed in order, and we crossed the border into Syria. After all those armed glances, I had expected more tension, but we simply drove through.
After several hours of driving with Islamic music playing in the background – which only heightened my sense of being in a completely different world – I began to see more and more abandoned towns and villages. The houses along the road were full of bullet holes, collapsed roofs, and here and there a stray dog. I realized immediately: the people here hadn’t chosen to leave; they had been driven out by a total war. This landscape continued for four long hours until we finally reached Aleppo.
Once I arrived in Aleppo, I was completely surprised. I was staying in a four-star hotel that was part of a chain from the United Arab Emirates. A nice hotel with a spa, a gym, and an extensive breakfast. The gratinated eggplant with baba ganoush and pomegranate seeds is definitely worth recommending. After hours of driving through devastated villages, I suddenly found myself in an oasis of luxury – the contrast couldn’t have been greater.
After two hours of waiting, I was picked up by the brother-in-law Alladin of my good friend and co-founder Mohamad Shami and his translator, Yaman. The surprise on their faces spoke volumes; they exchanged quick glances, as if they couldn’t believe that a Dutch guy was standing before them, ready to collaborate. Even the hotel staff watched curiously through the window. To them, it felt as if I had come from the other side of the world. And, in some ways, it felt like that to me too.
After this remarkable moment, they took me to Mohamad’s family, the Shami family, for a welcome dinner. It was a warm reception filled with delicious dishes, whose tastes and aromas were my first real introduction to Syria. This welcome made me feel that I had started something special.
The following days were spent alternating between the HKM atelier, the workshop where we are producing our first two collections before we can start our own atelier. Everyone was incredibly kind and hospitable, but as soon as I mentioned the future, their demeanor changed. For them, the future seemed like a distant, unreachable concept. Years of war had taken away their faith in it. Every time I brought up the future or long-term plans, they just nodded – they hoped for it for me, but not for themselves. One nod, one silent look, said it all.
The feeling this gives you is indescribable. In the Netherlands, we talk effortlessly about the next five, even ten years. But here, such dreams felt almost like a luxury. It made me acutely aware of our own privileges in the Netherlands, where dreaming about the future is a given. This realization gave me a new appreciation for the freedom and security I had always taken for granted – something I would never see the same way again.
Yet, they were also living proof of resilience. The atelier, rebuilt after the war, had no windows, no heating – unthinkable in the Netherlands – but here, they had been working for three years, with stores in the center filled with their clothes. The strength and perseverance they showed is exactly what we need as a brand. They are people who want to learn and develop themselves, to create clothing for consumers around the world once again. Just like before the war. One afternoon in the atelier, I watched them work on each garment with full dedication despite the cold – this was perseverance in its purest form.
I could go on about this, but I think my point is clear, why this brand is different. I’d like to end with the friendships I built with Aladdin (the brother-in-law) and Yaman (the translator) during these four days. In a world that sometimes feels so divided, it was remarkable to build such strong connections in such a short time. Perhaps Aladdin’s humor and Yaman’s eagerness to learn also played a role in this. These are connections I will carry with me always.