Fez Maker Keeps Tradition Alive in Cairo’s Streets
Meet the 45‑Year‑Old Craftsman
Nasser Abdel Basset has been weaving those iconic felt caps—yes, the famous fez—for almost half a century. Living in the cobbled lanes of Old Cairo, al‑Ghoureya, his humble workshop is one of the handful that still rake the old tradition out of the earth.
It’s a Family Affair
“I learned from my mentor, took the reins, and now hand‑passing the craft to my kids,” the 60‑year‑old says with a grin that might suggest the fez is his secret love language.
“Whispers that the fez is doomed? Guess again—my little ones are alive and ready to stitch!”
When the Fez Reigned Supreme
- In 1805, Mohamed Ali Pasha seized power and turned the fez into mandatory fashion for all top officials, civil servants, and students.
- The hat did double duty: it showed up the wearer’s status and their brain‑power.
- The fez became part of Cairo’s cultural identity—sort of like a badge that said, “I like my country, and I know my way around the Nile.”
From Boot‑Campa to New Order
Fast forward to 1952: the military ousted the old regime, and President Gamal Abdel Nasser waved goodbye to the fez, branding it a relic of the former ruling elite. It was the “outdated hat” move of the day.
Who’s Still Wearing It?
Today, the fez is basically a special edition. Only al‑Azhar University scholars and other Muslim clerics—people who really appreciate the history—still flaunt it. It’s part of their official robes now.
Local Take‑away
Basset says, “As long as al‑Azhar sticks around, we’ll keep mixing those felt fibres. No emergency plans needed—just ancient tradition and a good sense of humour.”
So next time you stroll down Old Cairo’s alleyways, keep your eyes peeled for a very old craft still rolling in—well, weaving—and folks strutting their historical hats with pride.
