Three, two, one: she stands tall; and those who thought her wounded, broken, fragile, those who deemed her lost, witness her incredible metamorphosis. She had no choice in weapons. She had no weapons. She only has her gaze, steady, burning. She moves forward, sensual, determined. It’s like a dance. She sways, undulates, light as air, enchanting, dangerous. She has lived a thousand lives. She reigns, sovereign, provider of light, freedom, and love. Nothing stops her. Her imprint is eternal.

This winter, Zuhair Murad’s woman embodies the power of nature: like the forests that burn and rise from their ashes, like wounded lionesses bearing their scars and roaming the savannahs. Her beauty lies in her power to always emerge stronger, mistress of her destiny. Nothing and no one can obstruct her path to happiness, her quest for serenity despite assaults, disappointments, and low blows. She returns from afar and journeys even further towards summits inaccessible to mere mortals.

This resilience is expressed through creations where traces of past pains are transfigured, elevated into embroideries. Sutures rendered in sparkling crystals bring together the edges of a slit gown, scars or splits that invite light in. A reimagined animal print elevates sensuality, a sensual camouflage rewriting the instinct for survival in feminine form directly on the skin. 3D smoke spirals from bottom to top on a gown with heightened shoulders, emanating from a meditative cigarette or a barely tamed fire. Here and there, Zuhair Murad designs bullet impacts, shattered mirrors, oversized fingerprints whose grooves engrave the indelible signature of a feminine ideal figure that engages, organizes, achieves, and acts against oblivion. Crystals intertwine with nervous, knotted nets as if to exorcise tension. But everywhere, too, pearls mimic champagne bubbles, sparkling around irregular, whimsical, joyous tears.