Every year on the eve of the Spring Equinox, the 13-day-long Persian New Year festival of begins. It’s a moment of celebration marked by traditional rituals, like the Chaharshanbe Suri, which calls for revelers to jump over a flame for good fortune. Then, there are also dances, visits with loved ones, and throughout it all, a proudly displayed in the homes of those who celebrate. The haft-sin consists of a table thoughtfully and artistically arranged with symbolic elements to fete the New Year and the birth of spring. Traditionally, tables are set by
Women with seven ( ) things beginning with the Persian letter “sin,” including wheat, olives, vinegar, apples, garlic, sumac, and hyacinths—tables also can include mirrors, candles, painted eggs, goldfish, and a “book of wisdom.” Each table is deeply personal and individual to the families who arrange them, holding objects that might represent their hopes and desires for the year ahead. As Persian photographer explains: “Each haft-sin I put together feels like a snapshot of where I am in my life, and whenever I look back upon one, it feels like reading an old diary entry.” Polès, who grew up with her single mom in the United Arab Emirates, cites the time spent with her mother every year setting up the haft-sin as some of her most treasured memories. “Being far from our relatives in
Iran and
France meant it was just the two of us,” she remembers. “Yet, we would go all out with our haft-sin, making it as beautiful and special as possible. It became a tradition I looked forward to each year. As a child, picking out the or fish, for our sofreh was my highlight.” The tables, which serve as the hearth of the home throughout the New Year (Polès compares it to a
Christmas tree), are often photographed by the families who’ve set them—but it’s still a tradition that is lesser known to those who don’t celebrate. “To my surprise, I found there wasn’t much published photographic documentation of it, which struck me as odd given the beauty and artistry of a haft-sin,” Polès continues. Last year during Nowruz, Polès took it upon herself to commemorate this tradition as upheld and interpreted by women of the Persian diaspora, going into the homes of 36 Iranian women in the
United States to document their haft-sins. The subjects she chose included many life-long friends, but also new relationships she’d forged living in
New York City for the past decade, running an online magazine that spotlights the everyday woman called . Her portraits, which reveal an array of color-filled tables that look more like art installations, are the subject of Polès’ forthcoming book dedicated to the origins and endurance of Nowruz. “I’ve grown to deeply appreciate and take pride in our beautiful traditions, with Nowruz being especially meaningful,” she says. “Its celebrations are imbued with depth and poetry, symbolizing light, spring, and new beginnings. Each ritual gives to our renewal, mirroring the rebirth of our planet during the spring equinox.” Below, her portraits of eight of the women alongside their haft-sins. Alexis Badiyi, stylist and creative, 35, Manhattan My father’s mirror from Iran is the cornerstone of my haft-sin. I like to build each year’s sculpture of spring around this piece. I have a large shelf in the center of my bookcase that is almost like an altar. I love to decorate this as a spotlight for my haft-sin. I use wood, ceramic, and silver vessels to fill with each of the seven symbols. I also love bringing in large branches and flowers to represent the abundance of spring. I grew up in
Los Angeles celebrating Nowruz with my family. I remember the weeks leading up to it, the excitement and traditions preparing for the celebration. I have very early memories of sneaking little bites of all the sweets while watching the goldfish swim and running my hands through the sprouted bouquets of Now, I enjoy celebrating and sharing this holiday with my
Friends and family in New York. Gisue Hariri, founder and principal design director of Hariri & Hariri Architecture, 67, with daughter Ava, Manhattan The highlight of my table is always my sofreh, which I purchased in the Isfahan Bazaar a long time ago! It has the blue turquoise colors of the handmade tiles of my ancestors’ city. It’s like creating a Persian garden, and sets the tone for the haft-sin elements. My presentation is like designing a Persian garden, which requires flowers and birds and a book of poems. All dishes and platters are Persian hand-painted minakari, which is the art of enamel working and decorating copper with colorful and baked coats, and one of the distinguished arts in Isfahan. Growing up in Iran, Nowruz was the most important celebration in our family as it was considered cultural and not religious. Being in harmony with the universe, celebrating the first day of spring— new year, new day, new clothes, and getting (gifts, usually money or gold coins). Lots of family get-togethers, starting with visits and respect to great-grandparents. For 13 days, family members welcomed and hosted Eid-Didany, with lots of fruits, sweets, and money for the kids. I have continued that tradition here in New York, and now my two daughters make their own beautiful haft-sins and invite friends and family to celebrate with pride. But dinner at my grandparents is always the highlight of continuing this tradition and celebration. Nasim Alikhani, owner and executive chef of Sofreh, 62, Brooklyn Always lots of spring flowers and my family’s old tapestry. I generally like a minimalist and modern approach to design—except haft-sin. I like to use my family’s fabrics and glassware that I brought from Iran to arrange my haft-sin. We always had haft-sin. My mother was growing beautiful (lentil or wheat grass), and we all participated in creating sofreh haft-sin. I couldn’t have my haft-sin for the first five years when I arrived in New York, but since then, I have never missed a year without it. Since I opened my restaurant Sofreh, I have arranged a beautiful sofreh haft-sin in my restaurant. Nilou Motamed, food authority and TV personality, 52, Brooklyn Persian food is having a real moment in New York right now. I was thrilled to be able to include pastries from an Iranian-American chef named Roshanak Yousefian, who is doing stunning modern renditions of Persian at her Popilee Patisserie. She also did the adorable evil eye–decorated garlic bulb for my haft-sin! Of course, the amazing Nasim Alikhani is the grand dame of the Persian food renaissance in New York (and no stranger to ; she cooked at the Met Gala). Her Sofreh Café will surely earn a cult following when it opens later this month. I’m a maximalist at heart, so this holiday, which is all about bounty and celebration, is right up my alley. In a departure from tradition, I use our fireplace mantle as a backdrop for the haft-sin. All the most beautiful elements in our Nowruz altar are heirlooms from my mother and grandmother: silver pieces from Isfahan, coins dating back to the Achaemenid and Sasanian empires, a hand-painted mirror, an antique from Kerman with the most intricate paisley pattern. But for me, the highlight is a black-and-white photo of my impossibly glamorous parents, taken in the 1960s during their early courtship in Tehran. For Iranians in the diaspora, Nowruz is a beautifully symbolic connection to a culture and a heritage that we have to engage with from afar. The rituals are so fundamentally rooted in our DNA. It grounds us to take part in everything from (spring cleaning, Persian-style) to growing the ceremonial (the centerpiece of the haft sin) and setting up the haft-sin itself. It’s an essential rite of spring that I can’t miss. Sepideh Moafi,
Actor,
Singer and humanitarian, 38, Manhattan There’s an abundance of flowers—I’m a bit of a flower fiend—along with two powerful stones that aren’t part of the traditional spread. Amethyst is a stone that has remarkable healing benefits, including enhanced creativity and connection to the divine. Celestite is a stone of divine protection, guidance, and communication, and of connection with guardian angels. For me, it calls forth the spirits of my ancestors, particularly my late grandmother, with whom I had a special bond. I often feel her presence, especially at my sofreh. My spread is kind of a mash-up of old and new, ancient and modern, spiritual and earthly. I have all of the traditional ingredients: (garlic), (wheatgrass), (apple), (coin), et cetera, placed on a contemporary gold platter, surrounded by the stones as well as traditional artwork I brought back from the first and only time I was able to visit Iran in 2006. It feels true to me—defined and shaped by my roots and culture, mixed with my own unique style. Growing up, it felt like there was so much anticipation around Nowruz. We had to time the growing of the get the perfect apples, my sister and I would paint the eggs, design the perfect sofreh, clean the house, wear new clothes—all to crowd around the radio or TV to hear the Iranian broadcasters announce the countdown to the New Year. We then hug and kiss, eat Persian sweets from the sofreh, call relatives all over the world, and visit family and friends who live nearby. The excitement and even anxiety that led up to the New Year would end with a rather anticlimactic feeling once it was all over. But these traditions and practices are what I’ve come to appreciate most in life. They preserve our identities and cultures and bring families closer together. Feeling my parents’ excitement in the days leading up to Nowruz (and the 13 days that follow) instilled a deep appreciation for family rituals and the symbolism of spring and new beginnings. Sunny Shokrae, photographer and visual artist, 40, Brooklyn Every year, it’s a bit different. When Clémence photographed it, we had just hosted a Nowruz dinner, so I had this beautiful shiny yellow tablecloth as my sofreh. Also, an important highlight—it was the most successful I’ve ever grown. I am a glutton for spring flowers, so I try to include some from my garden that have a small window of flowering, like the forsythia branch and star magnolias and, of course, orchids, as well as the Nowruz flowers that smell like heaven—the hyacinths. (I even used some moss for this one.) The rest is a mix of vessels from friends or peoples’ work that I admire. For this specific arrangement, I used the mirror plexi I bought for our Nowruz fundraiser dinner in 2023. Some special shout-outs: an Object and Totem bowl for my orange floating in water, red Shah glassware from a bazaar in Iran, a Sophie Lou Jacobsen glass container for my and the Raawii Strøm bowl for my candy—also straight from Iran. From Tehran to Southern
California to Brooklyn, I've celebrated Nowruz in every chapter of my life. It brings such warmth, joy, and intentionality to the end of winter and the start of spring. It’s exactly what I need to propel me forward into the new season with new, revived energy. The community aspect of it is priceless and invigorating. Mina Alyeshmerni, Maimoun Store founder, 36, Los Angeles Our haft-sin table marked a particularly personal one for me. Marking the first day of a new year and the start of something new, I decided to photograph it as a space that would materialize into our first temporary store location for my business, Maimoun. We dressed it up with candles, lace details, and two ceramic tableaux I asked my parents to give me when I was young: Japanese drawings of the same mountainside lake, one depicting fall and the other depicting spring. I typically love to include a personal piece to the table to feel even more connected. If I’m lucky, my mother will prepare my favorite Persian dishes. The main one has to be a stew featuring pomegranates that, when made to my specific parameters of perfection, is equal parts sweet and tart. And then of course and My own history with Noruwz was something I didn’t pay enough spiritual attention to growing up. Usually celebrated at friends’ or family’s homes in New York or Los Angeles. I remember once when I was a teenager, the week before celebrating the big day, we jumped over a pit of
fire in the driveway of a family friend’s place in the hills of L.A., not understanding how this was not illegal. It seemed like too much fun, too hooky (in a good way), not at all something we engaged in other than a night like this. I think in these moments of wonderment and curiosity, it allowed me to embrace it more, learn more about our culture and truly come to anticipate it each year, gathering new Persian friends together to internalize a memory. Pari Ehsan, founder of Pari Dust, 38, Manhattan The ancestral objects, the silver bowls filled with sumac and and sweets. My favorite piece is a glass dish with lettuce edging, delicately painted by my great-grandmother, which holds The lyrical assemblage of elements, the colors, the floral and mystical patterns engraved on the vessels feel celebratory and reflect my deep adoration of nature and my anticipation for the fresh season ahead. Nowruz in all of its ceremonious and rich traditions is a yearly culmination of Persian culture which imbues beauty and meaning into my everyday life and elevates the act of gathering and entertaining into art.