Our Roots
At its heart, Genvi is a love letter to the Levantine spirit. To the rituals that softened days and stitched meaning into the ordinary. It carries the imprint of Levantine women, those who preserved beauty in their hands and passed it down without needing to speak.
This story begins in a traditional Lebanese stone house where I would spend my summers, my Tayta’s (grandmother’s) home. She was a designer and a tailor, a quiet artist. Like many women of her generation, her work was hidden from view.
Her home was a place where days unfolded like pages of a quiet, living memory. Its air held a trace of olive oil - warm, familiar. As if the stones themselves remembered the trees that were once rooted in them.
The breeze would carry the scent of orange blossoms through green wooden shutters, weaving a quiet dance of aromas that felt like nothing but home. And always, in the background: the clatter of her sewing machine and family laughter filling the rooms.
These were not grand moments but they lasted. They were stitched into memory with scent, texture, sound, and love.