The stairwell

It was 4:12 p.m.
January. London.
Already getting dark.

Asr was ending in nine minutes… and I was in the stairwell between the 3rd and 4th floor of my office. Coat still on. Scarf pulled over my jeans. Praying fast and hoping no one opened the door.

Someone did.

I finished anyway. But on the way home I kept thinking… why do I have to hide to pray?

The problem wasn't the place. It was the clothes.

A long skirt doesn't fit in a handbag. A big scarf needs pins and a mirror. So most days I carried nothing… and hoped.

That night I sketched what I wished was in my bag. One light layer. A hooded top to the hips, a skirt to the ankles. On over jeans in seconds. Folded into a pouch smaller than my hand.

Then came the samples. Too heavy. Too slippery. A pouch that wouldn't close. I kept going until it was right: lighter, softer, quicker to slip on, with a zip pouch that fits any bag.

I've tested it everywhere. The library. The airport gate. A fitting room on Oxford Street. The back seat of my car in a supermarket car park, rain on the roof.

My friends started asking where they could get one.

That's Hana London.

Now it's yours. So you can pray on time. Anywhere. Without hiding.