Scaffolding arranged in a circle stood at the center of the Sant’Eustorgio Cloisters’ courtyard where the first Qasimi show in Milan was held Sunday — its sturdy, industrial appearance countered by the sheets of crinkled fabrics hanging from it and billowing in the morning breeze.

The installation — by Dala Nasser, a Lebanese artist known for her use of different materials, including textiles, to celebrate her roots and culture — contributed to the mood of the show, one of celebration of the brand’s 10th anniversary this year but also charged with a message of hope against the world’s ongoing geopolitical turmoil.

Designers — and humans — are longing for peace these days. 

“It’s really a moment of being together and [in] solidarity during this difficult time,” creative director Hoor Al-Qasimi said backstage. 

That undertone trickled down to the collection, which showed a softer, more organic and tactile edge of the brand’s utilitarian ethos.

Cue the men’s jilbab-inspired shirt over fluid sartorial pants that opened the show, as well as the collarless jacket with matching pleated trousers and the women’s tunic dresses cut asymmetrically to look like layered pieces.

Al-Qasimi is clearly building her own narrative for the brand, which she took over in 2019, after the sudden death of the founder, her brother Khalid. She let a few crafty inflections in, such as the openweave mohair crewnecks with little stones and buttons tied to it that recalled a fisherman’s net retrieving small objects from the sea, the intentional crinkles on a nylon short-sleeved shirt and doodle stitching on a shirt-on-shirt look. 

Even the multipocketed shirts, jackets and fishermen’s vests — Qasimi’s commercial bread and butter — were reimagined for a post-sportswear wardrobe. Elongated into tunics, worn with tailored pants or over pristine white shirts, they came in an earthy and washed color palette of tan, chocolate brown and rusty pink. 

“A celebration of hybrid cultures, memory and dialogue,” press notes read. As the show’s eclectic soundtrack climaxed with “Khobs” by Lebanese folk rock musician Issam Hajali, a track on inherited narratives and communal identity, models stood around the sculptural centerpiece, conjuring a powerful finale.