The steady hum of sewing machines, the chatter of clients coming and going, the swoosh of scissors wielded by a team of hard-working women. “Serious” is how the third-generation couturier describes the atmosphere at Nos Intuitions, the pret-a-porter business her mother, Laura Merhej, started in Beirut in 1984, two years after the Lebanon War wreaked deadly violence in the country. While the adults worked, Cynthia found ways to entertain herself — gathering fabric and beads from the atelier floor, cutting up and collaging things, and sketching, sketching, sketching. 

“My favorite thing to do was to dress up my sister and her friends as characters and then do photoshoots, so it felt quite normal,” she tells me via email. “But at some point, I decided I wanted to do other things because I was also really into film and photography.” Cynthia went on to study illustration at Central Saint Martins and visual communication at the Royal College of Art in London before eventually returning to her hometown of Beirut to do what the women in her family have done for generations: make beautifully crafted clothes.

Because Cynthia’s family legacy stretches back even further than her mother’s Nos Intuitions. Her great-grandmother, Laurice Srouji, owned a successful couture house in Jaffa, Palestine, in the 1930s. That is, until she had to leave her business behind during the 1948 Nakba, or catastrophe, in which hundreds of thousands of Palestinians were forcibly driven out of their homes. Still, she never gave up her craft and continued designing after immigrating to Lebanon. 

“Ultimately, I returned to Lebanon because I wanted to become a creative director, and it seemed like the most logical step to do it in the shortest time possible since I had the connections there to find work and the resources to set up a brand,” she says. She launched Renaissance (later adding the second “Renaissance” to the name) in 2016, working out of the Nos Intuitions atelier with — who else? — her mother by her side.

Since then, Cynthia has excelled herself in creating an unabashedly feminine, inimitable aesthetic that is entirely her own. Her universe is filled with soft structures, gathered hems, and airy layers shrouded in whispers of tulle. But beneath every romantic piece is a confident silhouette, thoughtfully constructed and cut to hang on the body just so. And there’s always a clever, unexpected detail that makes it fit that much better. 

This is what I’ve always loved about Renaissance Renaissance. The brand is singlehandedly responsible for ending my years-long pursuit of finding a stylish, perfect-fitting black pant. Dressed up or pared back, my favorite wide-legged staple features an adjustable bow tie detail at the front (like I said, clever) that makes it feel anything but basic. I have many more well-made Renaissance Renaissance pieces in my closet that I just can’t stop wearing — from a day-to-night top to a pair of dark indigo jeans with buttoned hems that allow me to taper the leg to my liking.

The industry has also recognized her genius. Case in point: Cynthia’s brand was a semifinalist for the coveted LVMH Prize in 2021 and 2025, and her work has been seen on the likes of Dua Lipa and New York’s first lady Rama Duwaji. This year, the designer marked another big milestone: the 10-year anniversary of Renaissance Renaissance. She collaborated with stylist Claudia Sinclair to create a limited-edition zine, fittingly dubbed “DECADE.” It was launched last month at Cahier Central — an independent bookshop in the Fifth Arrondissement — during Paris Fashion Week Men’s. 

“It made sense to create something physical that wasn’t clothing,” Cynthia says. Here, she shares more about her journey in fashion design and how she grew her company from family roots — despite the heartbreaking challenges and devastation her home country continues to experience. Following are excerpts, edited for style and clarity. 

Before we talk about the brand, I’d love to start with your story. Your great-grandmother was a couturier in Palestine, and your mother had her own label in Lebanon. What was it like growing up in your mother’s atelier in Beirut, being fully immersed in that world?

It was a very hectic, bustling environment with clients coming and going, and the different women in the atelier were sewing, ironing, cutting, and so on. It was quite serious, so as children, we had to find ways to play and make it fun because all the adults were too busy for us. So, I would just use whatever was around — clothes, beads, paper, and pen — which I think really helped me grow my imagination. 

When you think back to your childhood, what’s the most vivid memory you have of being around your mother’s atelier?  

I think the most vivid memories are of the people who worked there: the different women who were sewing, driving the delivery van, or working in the shop. It was a very tight knit group and they were all a big part of my childhood. It was a very female-centered environment.

Fashion seems so deeply woven into your family history. Was there a particular moment when you realized it might become your own path as well? 

I never really questioned it so much, because I was always at my mom’s atelier sketching and collaging collections. My favorite thing to do was to dress up my sister and her friends as characters and then do photoshoots, so it felt quite normal. But at some point, I decided I wanted to do other things because I was also really into film and photography, so I always had a very curious mind that wanted to explore other mediums. I didn’t even know art school was an option until I was 16.

You studied visual communication at Central Saint Martins in London. What was that journey — from Beirut to London — like? 

Well, I didn’t even know art school existed until I randomly found a catalogue for one in our school library. The idea that I could be in a school where the sole focus was creativity and art felt like a dream. But the schools I wanted to go to in New York City were too expensive. So a friend of mine who wanted to study fashion mentioned she was applying to Central Saint Martins. I had never heard of it before, but she said it was the best art school in the world, and it was very cheap compared to New York City so I was like, “OK, I guess that’s where I’m gonna go.”  

I had never been curious about going to London, so when I arrived, it was quite a shock. It was definitely not love at first sight, and there was a big cultural shock. But at the same time, I was just so excited to finally be independent and to be in an environment where all I had to do all day was be creative and be around other creative people. Those years really molded and formed me. I’m so grateful for that experience and my parents supporting me because at the time, it was unusual for a girl my age to study abroad at an art school.

What do you remember most about your years in London, and what ultimately drew you back to Lebanon? 

I remember London as a great time to discover music, art, and fashion, and it was all very exciting to finally have access to all of these things. It was also amazing to meet so many people from different cultures, especially at my universities. It was a time of great learning in every sense. Ultimately, I returned to Lebanon because I wanted to become a creative director and it seemed like the most logical step to do it in the shortest time possible since I had the connections there to find work and the resources to set up a brand. 

You launched Renaissance Renaissance in 2016. What inspired you to start your own label, and what felt important to express through it from the very beginning? 

In the beginning, I didn’t know what I wanted to express concretely; I just knew I wanted to create a platform, whether for myself or to work with other talented people. I gave myself five years, thinking of it like going to school all over again because I had to learn this new craft and this new language, and refine my vision.

What were those early years of building the brand like? What were some of the biggest lessons (and skills!) you had to learn along the way?

It was very intense because my vision was not refined, so I wanted to try so many different things. I had many big ideas but lacked the technical skill to execute them. I’m really lucky to have a mother like mine who was so supportive and always pushed me to do my own thing. Even if she didn’t understand what I was trying to do most of the time, and we would clash a lot, she still guided me the whole way. 

Renaissance Renaissance has such a distinctive visual language — romantic, feminine, and also incredibly precise in its tailoring. How did you develop that aesthetic?

It’s a very personal project for me, [one that’s] connected to my personal growth. This is why I think the brand connects with people because it’s clearly coming from somewhere real and emotional. So the aesthetic just developed as I tried out so many things and started becoming sharper about what I liked and disliked, caring less and less about getting validation from fashion people. So I feel the more I grow into myself, the more the language becomes precise. 

This year marks a decade of Renaissance Renaissance. You mentioned that you chose the name to symbolize this idea of renewal, rebirth, and of constant evolution. Looking back over the last 10 years, how has the brand transformed? What has remained unchanged? 

I think the name is so apt because I’ve had to go through so many rebirths in a way with this brand because of all the different events that happened in Beirut where every time we weren’t sure if we would be able to continue. What remained unchanged are the core values of the brand. I’m focusing on working on things I believe in and find meaningful rather than just following trends. 

You were selected as an LVMH Prize semi-finalist in 2021, and your work has been worn by so many remarkable women. When you reflect on the journey so far, what accomplishment feels most meaningful to you? 

Having built a really amazing community of collaborators has been the most meaningful to me. I don’t really measure success by these kinds of accomplishments. Though they are amazing and I’m so proud, I feel the most proud when I’m like, “Wow, this brand has brought together so many amazing people, and everyone is feeling so motivated and inspired by it.” 

What was the process of creating the zine like?

It was actually happening while the most recent Israeli attacks on Lebanon were occurring during the U.S,-Israel-Iran war, so it was really a very difficult period. Being able to work on an archival project while the country was being literally erased by bombs was poignant. 

You just hosted a launch event for the zine at Cahier Central. What was it like? How did you approach creating the atmosphere for the event?  

I’ve always loved bringing people together and throwing parties, so the idea was to create something unpretentious and light, where people could see the zine but also mainly just sip on mate and talk to each other. 

Lebanon has experienced immense challenges and devastation over the past decade. How has living and working through those realities shaped you personally? How has it influenced the way you approach your work? 

It’s been a huge influence, of course, on my whole life, and more particularly on this last decade, when we went through a lot as a people. It made me appreciate even more the idea of family and community, and of supporting each other in whatever way we can.

As a designer working from Beirut, how do you think place informs your creative perspective? Are there aspects of Lebanon that continue to inspire you?

You become more alive in a way, because we are in a constant state of uncertainty; it really inspires me to become more free in my work and my life and to see chaos as my friend. 

When you think about the future of Renaissance Renaissance, what excites you most right now? What are you looking forward to exploring next? 

I’m really excited for the next chapter to explore new ways of structuring my practice so I can remain free, continue growing creatively, and work on things that I believe are meaningful and beautiful. 

If your great-grandmother could see the brand today, what do you think she would make of it? 

I think she would be proud to see that her legacy has extended through her granddaughter and great-granddaughter, that it didn’t stop, and that it’s now reaching people all over the world and not just her atelier in Palestine.