In the backstreets of Heliopolis, amid the hum of sewing machines and the scent of tanned leather, two sisters built a revolution. Not the kind with banners and crowds — but one made of texture, patience, and faith in the hands of Egyptian artisans.
Aya and Mounaz Abdel Raouf, founders of Okhtein, began their journey in 2014 with a belief so simple it sounded radical: that Egypt’s centuries-old craftsmanship deserved a place in modern luxury.
Today, Okhtein bags sit beside Dior and Bottega Veneta in global boutiques, carried by Beyoncé, Gigi Hadid, and Emma Watson. But for Aya and Mounaz, success was never measured in celebrity. “We don’t design for fame,” Aya says. “We design for meaning.”
1. Two Sisters, One Vision
Growing up in Cairo, Aya and Mounaz were inseparable — “two halves of one stubborn dream,” as Mounaz calls it.
Aya studied marketing; Mounaz studied art. Their parents, both lovers of design and music, taught them to see beauty as a duty.
“Egypt has always been a place of makers,” Aya says. “But we forgot to believe that our craft could be luxurious.”
In 2014, with no investors and a borrowed sewing table, they launched Okhtein — Arabic for “sisters.” The brand was built around the idea that fashion could carry responsibility without losing glamour. Each bag was handmade by local artisans, often from underprivileged backgrounds, trained in traditional techniques.
At first, no one took them seriously. “People thought we were just two girls making bags,” Mounaz laughs. “Then Beyoncé wore one.”
2. The Language of Craft
Okhtein’s designs are unmistakable — structured, architectural, and deeply Egyptian without falling into cliché. Their signature brass-handled handbags draw inspiration from Cairo’s ornate doors and mosque domes. Each handle is crafted by a single metalsmith in Old Cairo, molded and polished by hand.
“Every curve, every engraving tells a story,” says Ahmed Khalil, one of their oldest collaborators, who still works from a small workshop near El Moez Street. “You can’t mass-produce soul.”
The sisters visit the workshops often, sitting beside the artisans, tweaking details, sharing tea. The process is slow, but deliberate. “Speed kills meaning,” Aya says. “We’d rather make less, but make it right.”
Their collections blend contemporary minimalism with cultural memory — leather embossed with geometric patterns inspired by Fatimid architecture, or bags stitched from woven palm fibers once used for prayer mats.
3. A Cairo Kind of Luxury
In a global industry obsessed with perfection, Okhtein celebrates the handmade imperfection of Egypt. “Luxury isn’t flawlessness,” Mounaz says. “It’s authenticity.”
The sisters refuse to outsource production abroad. “Our brand is our soil,” Aya adds. “Every stitch must smell like home.”
Their factory, now a light-filled space in Heliopolis, employs over 50 artisans — men and women who were previously struggling to find steady work. Among them is Amira, a single mother who now leads the leather-finishing department. “They didn’t just give us jobs,” she says. “They gave us dignity.”
That word — dignity — comes up often in conversation with the Abdel Raouf sisters. For them, sustainability isn’t a trend. It’s a cultural responsibility.
“We don’t design for seasons,” Aya explains. “We design for stories.”
Each Okhtein collection is named after an emotion or idea: Sunset in Aswan, The Oasis, House of Brass. The brand’s campaigns often feature Cairo itself — not the pyramids, but the streets, the rooftops, the in-between places where beauty hides in plain sight.
4. From Cairo to the World
The world noticed. In 2016, Okhtein won the DDFC/Vogue Fashion Prize, marking Egypt’s first major win on the regional fashion stage. Soon after, global stylists began calling. When Emma Watson carried an Okhtein bag to a United Nations event, the sisters’ inboxes flooded overnight.
But they refused to chase the spotlight. “Hype fades,” Mounaz says. “Heritage doesn’t.”
Instead, they doubled down on their mission — expanding their artisan network, introducing recycled brass, and launching mentorship programs for young Egyptian designers.
“We want to prove that Cairo can be a capital of craftsmanship again,” Aya says. “We’re not importing luxury. We’re exporting identity.”
Today, Okhtein operates flagship stores in Cairo and Dubai, with stockists in Paris, London, and New York. But their creative headquarters remains the same — a quiet office in Heliopolis filled with sketches, samples, and the faint sound of Abdel Halim playing in the background.
5. Sisterhood Beyond Blood
Okhtein isn’t just a family business. It’s a philosophy.
Aya and Mounaz speak often about “sisterhood” as an act of collaboration — not just between them, but across generations of women.
“We grew up surrounded by strong women,” Mounaz says. “Our mother, our aunts, our friends — they all created space for us to dream. We want Okhtein to do the same.”
Their campaigns reflect this ethos. Instead of models, they often feature women from diverse backgrounds: filmmakers, students, NGO founders, and street photographers. “We want to show the real face of Egyptian strength,” Aya explains.
In 2023, they launched Okhtein Foundation, an initiative supporting education and artisan training for women in rural areas. The foundation provides scholarships, skill development, and financial independence — extending the brand’s purpose far beyond fashion.
“A bag can carry more than things,” Mounaz says. “It can carry change.”
6. The New Egyptian Aesthetic
Okhtein helped define what modern Egyptian design looks like — clean, bold, and deeply emotional. Their visual identity blends local textures with global elegance, inspiring a new generation of creatives who no longer see Egypt as the periphery.
“Before Okhtein, we were all trying to sound international,” says stylist Nour Khalifa. “Now, we’re proud to sound Egyptian.”
The sisters call it “modern heritage” — a way of translating ancient craft into contemporary relevance. “We’re not reinventing Egypt,” Aya smiles. “We’re reintroducing her.”
Their success has sparked a wave of Cairo-born brands embracing craftsmanship — from jewelry labels like Sabry Marouf to concept designers like Rebel Cairo. Together, they’ve made Egypt part of the global design dialogue again.
7. Looking Ahead
When asked what comes next, Aya pauses before answering. “Expansion, maybe,” she says. “But only if it doesn’t dilute the story.”
Mounaz nods. “We’re not chasing scale. We’re chasing depth.”
They dream of an Okhtein Atelier in Downtown Cairo — a space open to the public, where artisans and designers can work, exhibit, and teach. “We want to bring people closer to the hands behind the product,” Aya says.
In a world where luxury often feels distant, Okhtein remains intimate — grounded in touch, memory, and emotion.
“We don’t sell bags,” Aya says quietly. “We sell belonging.”
And in that sense, Okhtein isn’t just a brand born of Cairo. It’s Cairo — complex, handmade, and impossibly full of heart.
