L’Atelier Nawbar isn't just another jewelry brand — it is a legacy. Founded in Beirut in 1891, the house has carried its story across generations, opening stores in cities around the world and finding its way into the collections of pop stars and princesses alike.

Yet inheriting a dynasty doesn’t mean the path is easy. Funny enough, when sisters Dima and Tania Nawbar stepped into the family business, they were both the closest and the farthest from jewelry at the same time — they hadn’t studied design in the traditional sense, yet they knew it inside out, having grown up quite literally in the atelier. What they did bring was vision — a desire to reset standards and break barriers. At first, many dismissed them. But the sisters pushed back, shattered expectations, and turned doubt into undeniable respect.

Today, with a team of more than 200 and a global reputation, Tania and Dima Nawbar have not only preserved the L’Atelier Nawbar legacy — they have reimagined it. Their path is marked by courage, creativity, and conviction, a journey as inspiring as the jewelry they bring to life.

— Let’s start from the beginning. Could you tell me about the history of the brand and its connection to your family?

Dima: Our great-grandfather was the first jeweler in the family — that is as far back as we can trace. After him came my grandfather, who ran a shop in Beirut’s gold souk. My father and his brother joined when they were very young, still at university, around the age of 18, and went on to open jewelry stores in Saudi Arabia and Beirut.

Later, my father married, had children, and moved to London, where he opened a shop after first establishing one in Paris. We grew up in that London boutique on Bond Street. The atelier was downstairs and the showroom upstairs, and as children we spent countless hours there — playing, redesigning jewelry our father gave us, and being surrounded by the colours and sparkle of the stones.

After university, we were working in Abu Dhabi when our father called and suggested it was time to join. When we returned to Beirut, we wanted to do something different: to open up the workshop and give others the opportunity to see the same magical experience we had growing up. Jewelry is often presented as polished and untouchable, but for us it was always deeply personal — you remember your grandmother’s earrings, your mother’s pendant, or a bracelet someone always wore. We wanted to break down those taboos of “you can’t afford it” or “it’s out of reach.”

So we created a space that was an open kitchen, where anyone could see jewelry being made step by step before it reached that final, beautiful stage. At first, we were nervous because we were breaking so many of the traditional rules of the jewelry world.

Instead of joining the family business directly, we branched out and built our own concept — and over time it became successful and much loved. Eventually, our father retired, but he still advises us. He continues to source the stones and remains, in many ways, the “silent boss.” And we are proud to be the first women in the family to carry the jeweler’s legacy forward.

— Did you ever consider taking a different path from jewelry, or did you always know you would continue the family tradition?

Dima: What was nice is that our parents never pushed us. They never said, “You should study jewelry.” Instead, they told us to study whatever we liked. Their view was that we already lived in a world of jewelry — we had travelled a lot, gone stone shopping in India, and seen manufacturing in Italy since the eighties — so much of that knowledge was already part of us. They encouraged us to follow our own interests, reminding us that whatever we studied would prove useful one day. I chose marketing and psychology.

Tania: I studied graphic design, which later proved really useful for the business. In a way, we brought it together — I had a bit of design, Dima had a bit of marketing, and with our parents always involving us in everything, it became part of us quite naturally. When our father called in 2010, we were in Abu Dhabi. It wasn’t as though we had always planned to do this, but we thought: perhaps it is time to try something new. We also knew that Dubai and Abu Dhabi weren’t going to be forever for us. That is when we went back to the drawing board together and asked ourselves: how can we start something different?

We didn’t want to follow exactly in our father’s footsteps, because growing up we were always given the same things — the diamond necklace, the bracelet, the earrings. After a while, you crave something more individual and stylish. Having been surrounded by diamond bling all our lives, we knew we didn’t want to continue in that direction. That is when we thought: let’s create something colourful, something new to the market, something people hadn’t seen before.

Dima: We wanted to create jewelry that could genuinely be worn, not pieces that would just sit locked away in a safe. Of course, our designs still come at high price points — they are luxurious and crafted from precious materials — but they are not about ostentation. If you walk down the street wearing them, they won’t shout for attention in the way a rivière necklace might. That balance was exactly what we were aiming for.

— You have mentioned that your father still advises you a lot. What sort of things do you usually discuss with him?

Dima: It ranges from the emotional to the technical. When we are facing a big decision, he always tells us not to doubt ourselves.

Tania: He is also the one who pushed us to take bigger risks. When we moved into larger diamond pieces, we were nervous. The price point jumped from around $1,000–2,000 to $7,000 or even $10,000, depending on the stone. But he told us to go for it, to be bold. Thanks to him, we had the confidence to take that step.

On the technical side, if something goes wrong in production — say a piece keeps breaking and no one can work out why — I will go to him. He always has a technique up his sleeve from years of experience. He sees it less as design and more as architecture and engineering. He will say: “Go back to the workshop and try this.”

Dima: He also advises us on materials. If we want to use a particular stone, he will know immediately whether it is too rigid, too soft or simply not suitable. He is brilliant at procurement too — sourcing rare stones, finding unusual cuts. He is obsessed with vintage jewelry, and his private collection is extraordinary. We often use it as an archive, and he would tell us stories: “This piece is from the 1940s, and this is how it was once worn.” His passion constantly feeds into ours, which is probably why nostalgia is such a strong thread in our work. He is also very old-school. He will say: “Why don’t you open at eight?” And then he is there himself, at eight or half past, polishing pieces and putting them away. Watching someone so in love with what they do is endlessly inspiring.

— You have introduced many changes in designs and operations, but I understand there are also elements you have chosen to keep unchanged. What are those?

Dima: We have always believed in age-old techniques of hand-making jewelry. When you take the time to make something by hand, it carries more beauty and soul. It isn't that we repeat old designs, but our life experiences and memories are embedded in what we create. For example, one of our collections, Bond Street, was inspired by a single loose stone we found in one of our dad’s old boxes — that one piece sparked an entire collection.

There is always a juxtaposition in our work — mixing the old with the new, bringing elements from another era and making them modern, wearable, even futuristic. That contrast is something we are constantly drawn to.

Tania: Clients often tell us our pieces feel vintage — like something their mother or grandmother might have worn — and that is what we love. We are not interested in clean, minimalistic jewelry. Even if we did move in that direction one day, it would still carry a sense of craft, symbolism, history, and story.

— Could you walk me through your creative process — from inspiration to the finished piece?

Dima: Both Tania and I are involved in design. It usually starts with a conversation about what we are drawn to at that moment — a texture, a colour, a type of stone, or even the idea of not using stones at all. Then we go to our own drawing boards. The funny thing is that, ever since the beginning, we have always come back with the same inspiration. We are very aligned.

Tania: We really complement each other. Dima tends to create chunkier versions, while I focus on the finer details. She works on the overall feel, I go into the intricacies. Wherever one of us leaves a gap, the other fills it. It is a back-and-forth that always comes together seamlessly.

Dima: From there, it becomes a mix of visuals, inspiration, and story. It often begins with a feeling — usually tied to nostalgia. For example, our recent collections were inspired by our mother’s jewelry boxes. She loved collecting stones and vintage pieces, often eclectic rather than matching sets, but still beautifully cohesive. That idea, combined with the symbols Tania and I both love — the universe, the sun, the moon, the cosmos — all get thrown together, like into a mixing tray, and that becomes the basis of a new collection.

— How did it feel at the beginning, when you first took on the responsibility of running such a big family business?

Tania: For us, it was a lot of trial and error. We had grown up around jewelry and taken courses, but we hadn’t spent four years at a jewelry university. So we learned everything hands-on in the workshop — hours spent testing techniques, figuring out how to make pieces lighter, or how to make the stones stand out more.

Dima: Our parents gave us confidence, but my father especially believed in learning through experience. His philosophy was that if he guided us step by step, it would take ten years. But if he threw us in and made us figure it out, the mistakes — and their cost — would teach us much faster than anything else.

Tania: In the beginning, it was also tough because this is such a male-dominated industry. The artisans were men, the people on the manufacturing side were men, and it was difficult to prove we were serious. They would question us — “Who are you to tell me how to flip a stone?” — when they had fifty years of experience. But once they saw we were credible, with strong designs and ideas worth trying, that is when respect came. From there, collaboration with the artisans really began to grow.

— You are the first female CEO in your family’s dynasty. Did that bring an extra sense of responsibility?

Dima: In this day and age, women are no longer confined — we really can have it all. Careers, families, the ability to juggle both. I believe we have been trained, as humans, to adapt and to thrive. But yes, here in Arabia the jewelry industry remains quite closed off, and when we stepped in, we broke every rule.

You weren’t supposed to show the raw side of the atelier — but we did. You weren’t supposed to make jewelry attainable — but we did. You weren’t supposed to step away from the traditional luxury aesthetic — but our very first store was urban place with concrete floors, art on the walls, and work from other designers displayed alongside ours. Even today, our spaces aren’t typical: you can still see the atelier, still have direct access to it.

We never wanted anyone to feel that jewelry was unattainable. We want people to form a relationship with jewelry, the way we did growing up. It should never make you feel inadequate when you open the door.

At the start, the men in the industry laughed at us. They said: “What are they doing? Who is going to buy this? It is too playful. It doesn’t even look like proper jewelry.” So yes, we faced resistance. But over time, we earned respect. Now, some of those very same artisans have applied to work with us. They told us: “You broke so many barriers — we want to be part of it.” Even male artisans.

And today, that respect is firmly there. When we walk into our ateliers, it is given without question. That chapter is behind us — we no longer dwell on those challenges.

— I imagine you must wear your own pieces. Which are your favourites?

Tania: I have always loved vintage, and I enjoy mixing those pieces with our newer collections. What I like most is combining old with new. I usually wear layers — earrings, necklaces, bracelets. Dima teases me and calls me a Christmas tree because I am always covered in jewelry. But I love it. I even sleep in it. For me, it is simply part of who we are.

Dima: For me, it is much more sentimental. I wear pieces given to me by my dad, grandmother or mum, and mix them with others — even ones that don’t quite “fit.” They all get tangled together, and I will spend ages untangling them, but I never take them off. I have two bracelets, for example, that I haven’t removed in ten years — not at airports, not even during an operation. Once a piece is on, it stays.

Jewelry is memory. It carries you through different stages of life and evolves with you. A piece can remind you of struggles you’ve overcome, milestones you have reached, or moments you have lived through. It is symbolic. Clothes change every day, but jewelry endures.

— How large is the company today?

Tania: We are 35 in the office, actually, and 180 in the workshops.

— Wow, that is more than 200 people! What is your approach as leaders? Do you see yourselves as strict bosses, or more relaxed?

Dima: We don’t really have that “bossy boss” approach. We are right there in the thick of things with our departments. No one here wants to be treated as just “the boss.” Of course, if something goes wrong and standards need to be met, then yes, we can get bossy. But it works both ways: the team also tells us off sometimes. They will say, “It is time to design now,” and push us back on track.

We have a very open policy. It is family-driven. If you need a day off because you are unwell — even mentally — you can just say so. There is no pressure to produce a doctor’s note. As long as the work is done well, as long as you are professional and passionate, the rest is up to you.

— In a creative field, emotions can run high. What are the usual sources of misunderstandings, and how do you deal with them?

Dima: When you spend so much time together, you really do become like a family — and families fight. We probably argue twenty times a day. But at the end of the day, there is love and respect. Everyone leaves, comes back the next morning, and it is as though nothing happened.

We don’t encourage grudges, cliques or office politics. If there is a problem, we expect people to address it directly. Only if it is truly serious do we step in. Characters matter to us — it is part of the hiring process. This is not just a job; you have to love it to do it well.

We genuinely believe that love and energy flow into the jewelry itself. We are a little superstitious about that: if you are creating pieces that people will wear every day, they should be made with good energy. Someone who doesn’t want to be here, who only cares about a paycheque, isn’t the right fit.

— I read that you have an initiative connected to gender equality and empowering disadvantaged women. Could you tell me more about that?

Dima: Yes, we have worked a lot with displaced women — in Lebanon, before social support systems improved, this was quite common. We would give them small jobs they could do from home — stringing beads or pearls — so they had a source of income and, importantly, a sense of empowerment.

Tania: Having an income gives a woman independence. She can feed her children, she can make her own decisions. That independence is vital.

Dima: For us, it is about the circular economy — giving new life to materials, to skills, and to communities. It isn't “community service”; it is about truly believing in people. If we are growing, we want those around us to grow as well. Whether it is artisans, women, or anyone whose skills have been left untapped because of circumstance, we want to support them. As we have said, we don’t believe in barriers. For example, we had an artisan who stayed with us until the age of 88. His eyesight was still sharp and his skill unmatched — why should he have stopped at 65 and lost his livelihood? He trained ten people simply by letting them watch him work. He was slower, of course, but that didn’t matter.

— Your jewelry is worn by many well-known names. Was there anyone in particular who surprised you the most? How did you find out?

Dima: The surprises come in different ways. Sometimes we discover it through campaigns, sometimes through word of mouth, and sometimes quite by accident.

Tania: One of the most memorable was Shawn Mendes. He had bought a piece, and suddenly it appeared everywhere in the Tommy Hilfiger campaign. Clients from around the world kept sending us pictures — it was surreal.

Dima: Rihanna was another highlight. She asked her stylist to reach out to us after seeing Cynthia Erivo wearing our earrings.

Tania: Then there are the unexpected emails. Hilary Swank once got in touch directly. At first, we thought it was spam — none of us believed it was really her. I replied anyway, and then her assistant followed up. We double-checked the details just to be sure, and in the end, it turned out to be genuine. She bought several pieces.

Dima: Lindsay Lohan also approached us after spotting our jewelry on a client in Dubai. And beyond the celebrities, we often work with royalty and government figures, though usually through intermediaries, so we only find out afterwards.

Tania: But the truth is, the most touching moments aren’t always with famous names. Sometimes it is opening a magazine and unexpectedly seeing our pieces, or sitting in a café in Paris and noticing a stranger wearing one. Those moments make us feel just as starstruck — if not more.

— And what about your clients directly? What is the most surprising or interesting thing they have told you?

Tania: The stories about their amazing coincidences. One client told us she was on holiday in Bodrum, sitting next to strangers who happened to be wearing our jewelry too. It sparked a conversation and a new connection. Another time, on a train from Geneva to Paris, one of our clients noticed a woman wearing our Rays earrings. She mentioned it, and it turned out one was Lebanese and the other Kuwaiti. They spent the whole journey talking — and became friends.

Dima: She later thanked us, saying, “Your earrings got me a new friend.” Stories like that really touch us. After ten years, we have collected so many. Because our space is open and welcoming, clients feel comfortable sharing with us. Sometimes they bring in their grandparents’ or parents’ jewelry, sometimes they share sad stories, other times happy ones. There’s always this beautiful exchange — and it is one of the things we love most about what we do.