At the beginning of September, Elie Saab became a grandfather. The birth of baby Sophia after such a tumultuous year in Saab’s native Lebanon, during which the harrowing impact of the pandemic was exacerbated by an explosion in Beirut, coincided with a determination to base his ready-to-wear collection, titled “a new dawn,” on new beginnings. “We want to celebrate life, and quality of life,” he said, speaking over the phone from Beirut.
Saab’s atelier and home were destroyed in the August blast in Beirut’s port, an explosion of ammonium nitrate that ripped through the city, killing 200 people and injuring thousands. His early-20th-century home, one of the few remaining examples of traditional architecture left in Beirut after the civil war, was wrecked, its Ottoman-era chandeliers smashed and windows blown out. His atelier was similarly reduced to rubble. His team worked night and day and, remarkably, the haute couture atelier of 200 people was up and running again just 15 days later. It’s emblematic of the Lebanese mindset, he says. “The Lebanese people are always looking forward, we live for tomorrow and plan for everything to be better and more beautiful.”
In lieu of a runway show in Paris, where he also has a small atelier, Saab debuted a vaguely unsettling film that drew on elements of ritual and ceremony. Captured in the Faqra mountains, filled with girls in his signature embellished, ethereal gowns, it was made to capture the ritual of dancing and moving together “celebrating life,” and to emphasize the vast surrounding landscape, to “give a sensation of liberty.” He conceived of the collection in a series of color capsules. “There is pink from the bougainvillea, acid green like beautiful leaves, a lot of white, because we are dreaming of peace and serenity, but also blood red, for when you lose someone,” he says. His favorite is the turquoise section comprising a Grecian gown reminiscent of the style Grace Kelly wears in To Catch a Thief, as well as a series of beaded sheer numbers worn belted at the waist.
Asked if the Lebanese predilection for partying has been curtailed by the pandemic, and therefore had an effect on his business (he is the designer of choice for discerning Lebanese brides) he shrugged: “The parties are smaller, but life continues.” His one nod to daywear, other than some colorful tailoring, was a capsule of handbags, including cross-body styles and large totes in jolly hues. He predicts the future will be about personalization and personality. “Joy and simplicity,” he said, to sum it up.
