What the national industry taught me about real fashion

By: Karl Manrique

When I decided to study fashion and footwear design, my dreams were definitely not taking place inside a shoe factory, nor was that the desired destination of any of my classmates. Like everyone else, we had internalized the idea that fashion consisted solely of the glamour and beauty of a runway in Paris or New York, without considering the work behind it—or the fact that real people also need someone to design products for them.

At my university, as in any fashion school, we had all enrolled with the firm desire of someday designing avant-garde collections, dominating runways at home or abroad, and appearing in the pages of VOGUE alongside a headline naming us as the designer who would change the image of fashion in Mexico.

This was happening in the first decade of the 2000s, before the boom of social media and platforms that promote talented designers abroad—amid a reality in which it was far more difficult to make your way in the fashion world, when projecting your own voice through a blog or a reel was still nonexistent.

Being from León, Guanajuato—a city known to this day as the leather and footwear capital of Mexico—the obvious path was to work designing in this sector, something many would define as an unglamorous job, far removed from what “real” fashion is supposed to be.

In contrast to the present day, at that time there were very few footwear companies with a designer on staff, resolving the creative side through precarious design processes that consisted of adaptations of European models copied by pattern makers. Although this was the most common practice, in some cases companies chose to purchase unique sketches from designers in Spain or Italy, who, often unfamiliar with the market, sold—at high prices—flashy designs that had little to do with the taste of the Mexican consumer.

I was part of the beginning of that footwear business culture that was starting to open up to having an in-house design team. And although this seems commonplace today, at the time it was very difficult for designers to be let in, as it meant changing, in many ways, work dynamics and processes.

When you start your career in a footwear company, you learn from the ground up, beginning with the most basic processes: filling out technical sheets, assembling material sample kits, or designing the applications that adorn each shoe, such as labels or plastisol prints.

And although all these activities may seem inappropriate for a designer, I now understand that this was an absolutely necessary process to learn how to properly design a pair of shoes, since this work is not only about conceiving the aesthetic and conceptual aspects, but also about considering construction and details at every stage.

Creativity flourishes where you least expect it

By the final semester of the program, that anxious question arises about what you will do once you graduate, and for me, fate led me to design children’s footwear.
A segment many rejected working in, precisely because we were deeply rooted in the idea that if we were going to create something, we had to be able to experiment creatively—and that the product best suited for this was women’s footwear. Or at least, that’s what I believed then.

Although many looked down on the children’s segment, it was there that I understood a true love for footwear in every collection, as it is a category that definitely allows for much greater creativity in all aspects and details.

After more than a decade designing products for children, I learned how to ground macro trends and transform them into sellable proposals. I realized this is only achieved by deeply understanding the brand, as well as analyzing and translating global trends to its needs and those of its consumers. And this is no simple task when working for a company with presence throughout Mexico and across different points of sale, each with specific requirements.

Children’s footwear is one of the segments that demands the most creativity, especially when competing with foreign brands that do not hold back when experimenting in their collections. Thus, even within a national and traditional brand, over time I learned to integrate its ethos with bolder, more competitive products.

The Mexican market is very conservative in fashion

Mexico and its culture have long been identified as loud, joyful, and colorful, with people associated with kitsch and extravagance when choosing what to wear. However, this popular idea is not entirely accurate, and it becomes especially evident when purchasing footwear.

Here, the economic reality of many Mexicans plays a strong role, leading them to prefer products in basic colors, which represent a safe bet when building a versatile, functional outfit for everyday use.

This purchasing behavior is perceived mainly in smaller cities and among popular consumer segments.

The reality of designing a collection is not so different from what we see on TV

Those of us who work in fashion have seen the creative process of haute couture collections through documentaries that show how they are built—from the initial idea to the moment the collection is presented.

When working within a large apparel or footwear company, you realize that the reality inside any national fashion brand we see in stores operates in a similar way, but without Paris, celebrities, or excessive luxury.

Everything begins with an initial idea each season, from which an entire collection is developed: creating designs, selecting materials, and refining prototypes, until defining the final version of the samples that will be presented at trade shows or to special clients.

De-romanticizing fashion and designing for real people

I firmly believe that the best way to truly learn how to design is by working within the industry, as this provides a unique perspective on the challenges that arise when manufacturing a design or a collection.

This is where you learn how to ground those extravagant sketches you conceived in university, turning them into products that are both sellable and manufacturable—structuring the idea from the outset, taking into account processes, materials, and concepts, and reducing errors at the production stage.

The designer and the brand must have a symbiotic relationship

Like creative directors, designers working at any company—even their own—must know and understand their brand’s DNA and its target audience in order to contribute their creativity to the design process and succeed.

Analyzing trends and grounding them in a real collection

There are many beliefs and myths surrounding trend analysis, such as the idea of following to the letter the macro trends dictated by major fashion agencies. However, this is one of the biggest mistakes brands frequently make.

While it is true that agencies communicating macro trends do set a path to follow, that is precisely where our individual work begins: adapting and grounding what they propose to fit our market and our brand.

For this reason, it is always necessary to observe what is happening in the world and in society, complementing information at every moment with an independent analysis that works for each specific case.

Although experience within the national industry is often underestimated due to its lack of glamour, nearly two decades of experience in design and fashion have led me to conclude that it is one of the most practical paths to learn, accurately and firsthand, how a large, established brand operates—whether you decide to start your own fashion business, analyze trends, offer consultancy, or simply write or communicate about key topics in the fashion industry.

Without a doubt, this is only a small part of what I learned working in design and manufacturing for more than a decade—a journey in which fashion is understood as it truly is: without romanticism or idealized theories, only reality, craft, and process.