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In the beginning, no one expected us to walk away with them. When Zied Ben Amor and Jean-Marc Fellous first imagined Baziszt, their embroidered shirts were meant for men. The idea itself was born far from Paris: during Covid, the two men found themselves stranded in an Australian hotel, where they noticed hand-embroidered, cross-stitched linens. For Zied, a former applied mathematics engineer who spent a decade in data and consulting, this detail awakened a deep textile memory.
In Tunisia, his mother kept a loom, his aunts wove wool blankets, and some of the motifs he draws today echo the rugs of his childhood. He also scours flea markets, hunts for antique linens, and confesses to spending entire days exploring friends' closets in search of a pattern or a shade.
In 2021, Baziszt was born; the first shirts followed, hand-embroidered with flowers, birds, pearls, and nods to the Berber tattoos once worn on his grandmother’s face. Then something unexpected happened: women started wearing them. The exact same shirt traveled from a 25-year-old man to a 40 or 50-year-old woman, the founders recall, and the wardrobe gradually became unisex. Zied even added pockets—almost systematically—believing that a great, oversized shirt can easily replace a handbag. A particularly thoughtful detail when, at eight in the morning, you only planned on walking away with your keys.
Taste
Baziszt · The morning after · His shirt · Borrowed, never returned · 8 AM · Walk of shame, but chic · Oversized shirt · Boyfriend shirt · Unisex wardrobe
