Get in touch with usBehind every towel, robe, and piece of fabric we carry is a story — not just of tradition and technique, but of people. The artisans who weave for Jennifer’s Hamam aren’t just skilled — they’re the reason this craft is still alive.
The faces you see in the collage below represent just a few of the weavers who make this work possible. Most wouldn’t normally agree to be photographed. That might seem surprising, but once you understand what the industry went through, it makes perfect sense.
As weaving collapsed across Türkiye, competition became fierce. Desperation crept in. Friends and even family members resorted to sabotaging each other — copying designs, luring away clients, even trying to steal the idea of how to run a successful workshop. Nearly every weaver Jennifer spoke with had a story about being hurt by someone they once trusted.
Cameras became a threat. Visitors were too risky. But somehow, the work still spoke louder than the silence.
Without press coverage or flashy marketing, word of mouth grew. Clients returned. Quality brought people back to the loom — artisans who had long since given up began to work again.
When Jennifer’s Hamam began nearly seven years ago, the weavers were at a breaking point. Creativity had vanished. Most were focused only on survival. But from the start, Jennifer made a choice: to keep each artisan independent. Not employees. Not under her control. Free to build their own futures as business improved.
It worked.
Today, many of the weavers are thriving again. Some now run larger workshops. Most are experimenting — pushing designs, trying new things. Jennifer continues to buy all the thread herself to maintain quality control, and she personally visits each lead weaver to ensure the work — and the working environment — meets her standards.
These are not just producers. They’re artists. Survivors. And the reason this endangered craft still exists.