A young Gazan girl twirls across the floor of a dressmaker's shop, her white dress billowing around her as a shy smile spreads across her face.
Trimmed with delicate tulle and topped with a soft veil, the dress looks fit for a celebration.
Few would guess that parts of it are from discarded fabric or an old gown salvaged from the ruins of the war in Gaza.
The dress is the work of 24-year-old tailor Amir al-Rantisi, who has made it his mission to provide elegant dresses for special occasions for young girls and women in southern Gaza's Khan Yunis area.
He does this by recycling used fabrics and old dresses.
"When I go to Gaza (City) to get the fabric, I take it from a place that's been destroyed, from old fabric that's available, which was probably damaged by shrapnel or burnt," Amir told Agence France-Presse (AFP).
"I select pieces from it and I make dresses from those pieces. I also take old dresses and recycle them."
Outside the shop, his colorful creations in satin, organza and tulle hang from makeshift mannequins fashioned from iron poles – vivid splashes of color against a backdrop of grey concrete and blackened buildings.
Several elegant long gowns are displayed on cement mannequins outside the shop, while colorful frocks sway gently from a clothesline stretched across the storefront, allowing customers to inspect the garments with ease.
The workshop itself hums with activity. On a table beside a collapsed wall, piles of old dresses sit waiting to be given new life as festive creations.
His mother, Nisreen al-Rantisi, works alongside him in the workshop, while another assistant tailor attentively takes the measurements.
As Nisreen sorts through the colorful fabrics, selecting the perfect materials for the next creation, the assistant tailor deftly guides his scissors through a length of cloth, skillfully shaping it into what will soon become a beautifully crafted dress.
Keeping the business running, however, requires constant improvisation.
"We suffer greatly from power outages," said Nisreen al-Rantisi.
"Sometimes, we have orders or work that we can't complete."
But her son Amir has found a way to tackle that too.
He has rigged an old bicycle pedal to his sewing machine, a makeshift solution to keep working through the frequent power cuts that plague the devastated Gaza Strip.
But it is difficult and inconvenient, said his mother.
"Sewing is done manually; one person has to sew while the other has to do the rest," she said.
Meanwhile, the cost of supplies has soared.
With imports into Gaza severely restricted and shortages widespread, even basic materials have become difficult to obtain.
"This spool of black thread is no longer available and even if it's available, it used to cost seven shekels ($2.40), but now it's 50," said Amir.
Israel controls all entry points into the territory, and the number of trucks carrying foreign aid and private sector goods remains far too low to ease war-inflated prices or shortages, according to NGOs on the ground.
Yet as the little girl spins once more in her white dress, her eyes wide with joy, Amir's work offers a rare reminder of how residents of Gaza are finding ways to create and celebrate despite the hardships of war.
