Some symbols are chosen. Others are simply survived into being.
For decades, the watermelon has carried what a flag could not always carry openly. After 1967, when the public display of the Palestinian flag was restricted across Gaza and the West Bank, people reached for the fruit that held its colours — the red of the flesh, the green of the rind, the black of the seeds, the white in between. A single slice said what a flag was not allowed to.
And it still does.
Why a watermelon?
The watermelon endures as a symbol because it was never handed down from above. It grew, quietly and stubbornly, in markets and kitchens and on the edges of embroidery —
passed between people who understood exactly what it meant. It is a symbol of identity kept alive in the face of erasure, and of a heritage that refuses to disappear.
We asked the women we work with in the West Bank what the watermelon means to them.
"I never expected that one day the Palestinian flag and heritage would become symbolized by a watermelon…"
"The watermelon has allowed us to find a way to grow and sustain our identity as we face erasure."
Out of that meaning, they made something you can hold in your hands, pour tea into, set on your table.
The collection
We're proud to introduce Watermelon for Palestine — a new collection, made in the West Bank.
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Watermelon ice cream bowl — for the scoop that says something.
- Watermelon tea & coffee cup — the daily ritual, carried in colour.
- Watermelon Keffiyeh Ceramic tray — for the table where people gather.
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Watermelon tatreez tea towel — the watermelon rendered in traditional Palestinian tatreez, the embroidery that has itself been a quiet act of preservation, stitched from mother to daughter for generations.
Every piece is made by displaced and refugee women earning dignified, above-living-wage work. When you bring one home, you carry their heritage, their identity, and their livelihood with you — a small, everyday act of solidarity.
Standing with their freedom
A symbol only endures because people keep it alive. The watermelon has travelled from market stalls to embroidery to ice cream pints because ordinary people, again and again, chose to carry it. You can too.
Stand with Palestinian freedom by keeping this heritage visible and these livelihoods strong. Bring a piece of the collection into your home and let it start conversations at your table. Share our makers' story with someone who hasn't heard it. Keep learning, keep speaking, and keep refusing the quiet that erasure depends on.
When enough of us stand together, a fruit becomes a flag, a craft becomes a future, and a call for dignity becomes impossible to ignore.