Made in Palestine
صنع في فلسطين

Scarf with keffiyeh pattern made of fake fashion logos

For Palestinians, the keffiyeh is a strong national symbol in the struggle against the Israeli occupation. It is claimed repeatedly by Western fashion as a trendy accessory, perhaps with as little political meaning as a Che Guevara t-shirt. During his stay in Palestine, Jaroslav Toussaint, designer of ‘Made in Palestine’, noted that the keffiyeh is not standard streetwear in Palestine. Instead, he saw many young people wearing the big logos of luxury fashion brands on their clothing.

Palestinian textile factories, producing clothes for the home market, profit from the lack of prosecution for copyright infringement by copying the logos of luxury brands to increase the value of their products.

The pattern of this keffiyeh is composed of a collection of such logos, found and copied in Palestine.

  • Jaroslav Toussaint (DE)

    Jaroslav Toussaint is a German typo and graphic designer based in Amsterdam, who studied at the Sandberg Instituut Amsterdam (Masters Rietveld Academie).


    Our second day in Palestine, started on the first day of October. The night before, the white rabbit had lead us save and in time through its hole and nobody of us could really believe that we have had no problems with the Queen of Hearts and her guards; that we were finally here, in miraculous Ramallah. The evening lead us into the workshop of the rabbits old friend, the crazy cobbler whose favourite time of the day had just begun, the night. Our party member Majnuna, skilled in all kinds of crafts and arts, found herself in Wonderland, tried all his machines and agreed on becoming the cobblers apprentice. But no night shall pass without the celebration of our non-birthday, and so our glasses were filled with a white liquid called Arak, which is not Raki, nor it is Ouzo —no matter what the bottle says. The glasses where wicked too and filled themselves each time we tried to empty them. The Rabbits and Cobblers old friend, the March Hare, joined our party and the night went on with talks about pleasures and inconveniences, the Queen of hearts and her guards, about the amazing creatures of Wonderland and their ability to make so much good out of so much nothing. Finally we were brought to our hotel by the crazy cobbler on his flying carpet. Waking up after a short sleep which had given our livers too little time to digest the «don’t-call-it-Ouzo» we hurried on to our base for the next 10 days, where this very famous guy was born about 2000 years ago; who had a long beard, many followers and could turn water into wine. There, in the city of eternal Christmas, we were introduced to our new friends, inhabitants of  Wonderland, skilled craftsmen and -women of whom we were going to learn so much. Writing this in retrospect is a matter of great difficulties. Here in Wonderland things are different than they appear. Weeks, especially the last not yet two, can feel like months or years. The ones who seem defeated can be more free than their conquerors. To reach the place across the street, only some meters away, can be a journey of years. We learned a lot, especially to open our eyes and listen and not to rely on the knowledge we brought with us in our baggage. We smoked the Argeelah with the local caterpillars which will certainly turn into butterflies some day. We made friends in Wonderland and once we are back home we will see things a little bit with their eyes and we will wonder and tell about Wonderland.

  • 2013

    Printed Cotton

    128 x 128 cm