Wallah Bro vs. Wallah Habibi: Lebanese Girls, Two Worlds Apart

Let’s talk about the Lebanese girl paradox. Same bloodline, same cedar tree on the flag, but depending on geography you either get Paris runway chic or Planet Fitness sweatsuit vibes.

Lebanon: Where Fashion Survives the Apocalypse

In Beirut, a Lebanese girl can survive three wars, two blackouts, and a currency collapse—but her eyeliner wing? Flawless. Her handbag? Still Gucci. Even when the bank won’t let her withdraw $20, she somehow manages to debut a new pair of Louboutins at the protest. Lebanese girls back home treat life like a photoshoot, strutting Hamra Street like it’s Paris Fashion Week.

Their language is equally polished: “Wallah, ça va habibi.” A perfect blend of Arabic, French, and English, slipping between dialects like they slip into their designer heels. Their Instagram feeds are curated like art galleries—latte art in one hand, a motivational quote in French in the caption, and the angle just right so the economic crisis doesn’t photobomb.

Dearborn: Where Nike Is the National Costume

Now fast forward to Dearborn. Same genetics, wildly different execution. Lebanese girls here got their cultural update from Fordson cafeterias and TikTok, not Hamra boutiques. The uniform? Nike sweats, hoodie zipped up to the chin, hijab tucked like it’s game day. Forget Dior sunglasses—these girls wear gas station shades at night, indoors, while saying “wallah bro” 17 times in one sentence.

And it’s not the soft “wallah habibi” Beirut whisper. No, this is aggressive. It sounds like they’re swearing in for court testimony:

• “Wallah bro, on the Quran bro, swear to God bro.”

  Every phrase ends like a closing argument at 19th District Court.

Their Instagram isn’t curated—it’s 37 low-resolution mirror selfies with captions like “Don’t play wit me 🤞🏽.” The only latte art they know is the foam on top of their Red Bull poured into a Styrofoam cup.

Two Cultures, One Root

Lebanon gave us women who look like they stepped out of Vogue. Dearborn gave us women who look like they stepped out of a 7-Eleven parking lot fight. Lebanon is “ça va, habibi.” Dearborn is “pull up, bro.”

And yet, both claim the same heritage. One side thinks they’re too classy for shawarma grease; the other thinks garlic sauce is perfume. One side poses with the cedar tree in the background, the other with the “Welcome to Dearborn” mural at Hemlock Park.

The Satirical Solution

Maybe it’s time for a cultural exchange program. Send Dearborn girls to Lebanon to learn that heels exist. Send Beirut girls to Dearborn to learn that hoodies can double as battle armor. Together, maybe we’ll find balance: a girl who can say “wallah, ça va bro” while wearing Louboutins and a hoodie.

Until then, Dearborn keeps producing “Nike Nation,” and Beirut keeps producing “Vogue in a War Zone.” Same roots, different soil, and wildly different crops.

Yours truly,

Habib