Upcycling: Beyond Transforming Garments, the Distinctive Future of Contemporary Fashion in Mexico
By a Centennial Mexican Fashion Designer.
From my experience, upcycling in Mexican fashion is not just a trend that I observe from afar; it is something I have lived firsthand throughout my 10-year journey dedicated to Mexican fashion. As a fashion designer and founder of Flavante, a slow fashion brand, I have witnessed the impact that second-hand clothing and upcycling have had on our environment. Before creating Flavante in 2018, I was a "neni"—for my readers outside of Mexico, this is a term used for women who sell second-hand clothes in online bazaars or physical markets. During that time, I saw how this practice of reuse was not just an informal economic issue but also an act of resistance and creativity. Throughout my career, I have seen an incredible number of new upcycling projects arise, mainly from Generation Z individuals who lack formal fashion education, as there is very limited academic availability and no government support to develop this industry. However, I have also observed upcycling projects from students who graduated from various fashion universities in the country. That is why in this Substack, I want to share a Mexican perspective on analysis: not only do I design and produce clothing, but I also study fashion from a sociological, anthropological, and historical perspective. I want Mexican fashion to be seen, understood, and appreciated in its complexity, as a reflection of our social context, our struggles, and our aspirations.
Upcycling is not just a fashion trend; it is a creative and powerful response to global inequalities. To understand how upcycling is becoming a significant fashion movement in Mexico and Latin America, we must consider the journey that discarded clothing takes from the global north: the United States, Europe, and Asia. In these regions, overproduction and excessive consumption generate tons of clothing that, once it loses its novelty, becomes waste. And it is this same clothing that embarks on a journey through the second-hand market, or "paca," towards the global south, finding new destinations, new meanings, and a new life cycle.
The route of second-hand clothing, or "paca," deeply reflects global inequalities. This second-hand clothing begins its journey in the global north, where consumers dispose of garments that are still usable but no longer desired due to fast consumption promoted by fashion, especially in this era of fleeting algorithms, where social media pushes new trends almost compulsively. These tons of clothing are collected and sorted at places like Goodwill, then exported in large bales to the global south, with Mexico serving as a crucial transit country in this route. The Atacama Desert in Chile is one of the most striking final destinations of this journey. Every year, around 59,000 tons of second-hand clothing arrive in Chile from the port of Iquique, originating from Europe, the United States, and Asia. Although some of this clothing is sold in local markets, at least 39,000 tons end up accumulating in the desert, creating mountains of textile waste that represent an environmental disaster. This "fashion cemetery" is one of the consequences of overconsumption in the more developed countries and the lack of an adequate recycling and reuse system (Sandoval-Hernández, 2019). These tons of discarded textiles in the desert remind us of the cost of fast, unbalanced fashion, where the countries of the south act as dumping grounds for the waste of the global north (this phenomenon also occurs in Africa, another global south region).
In Mexico, the "paca" route is filled with dark stories due to the participation of drug trafficking in the logistics of these goods, but also stories of creativity and reinvention that give new meaning to them. Part of this merchandise arrives illegally across the U.S.-Mexico border, a trade that blends with the "fayuca" economy in northeastern Mexico, which operates informally and involves various agreements between different actors to facilitate the movement of merchandise across the border illegally or with minimal control. Drivers and smugglers cross the border with these bales, evading authorities and finding ways to commercialize clothing that, though discarded in the north, finds a second chance at life, especially in Mexico and Latin America. This context of illegality and informality drives many emerging designers with limited opportunities to seek creative and sustainable alternatives (Sandoval, 2012).
It is in this scenario that upcycling comes into play. Generation Z in Mexico is enthusiastically embracing this movement. For us, upcycling is much more than just transforming old clothes; it is a form of resistance, of telling the global fashion system that we can do it differently, that we can create without exploitation, without harm, without absurd consumption. With limited academic fashion offerings in Mexico, many of these emerging designers are forced to learn in a self-managed way. But what is Generation Z if not a generation that learns independently, that doesn't wait for permission, and that transforms what they have at hand? This lack of formal infrastructure has led to an incredible culture of experimentation, where "paca" clothing becomes the canvas for innovation and personal expression.
Upcycling in Mexico is not only a sustainable practice; it also reflects the country's socio-economic conditions. Data from INEGI reveals that a large portion of the Mexican population consumes second-hand clothing because it is what they can afford. Currently, 43.9% of Mexicans live in poverty, making the second-hand clothing market a viable and accessible option for dressing (INEGI). This mass consumption of second-hand clothing also creates an opportunity for upcycling: emerging designers are taking these garments and transforming them into something unique that challenges fast and homogenized consumption, deconstructing in each transformation the Eurocentrism and U.S.-centrism imposed in Latin America as the standard of "progress."
From a sociological and anthropological perspective, upcycling in Mexico presents itself as an alternative to dominant, globalized fashion. It is a way of giving new value to discarded materials and turning them into garments that not only have aesthetic value but also cultural and social significance. As Karen Hansen (2000) aptly states, consuming second-hand clothing can be a form of democratization and liberation (Sandoval-Hernández, 2019). In Mexico, this movement is led by a new generation of creators seeking to challenge the hierarchies of global fashion and return the voice and power to the local industry. I have witnessed students from UNAM take a stand and demand the creation of a Fashion Design major, as only three universities in the country currently offer fashion studies for free: Universidad Autónoma de Aguascalientes (UAA), Universidad de Guadalajara (UDG), and Universidad Autónoma de Tlaxcala. This is very limited compared to the private academic offerings, which has led UNAM students (in Mexico City) to appropriate spaces within the university to create fashion shows.
In March 2024, as a result of this university movement that began in February, an event called "Pasarela Consciente" (Conscious Runway) was created, where 30 emerging Mexican designers through upcycling appropriated the space of the "Monumento a la Revolución," creating a self-managed fashion show.
Recently, on October 12th at "Centro Cultural Los Pinos," a collective show called "HONORXS Reflexión Escolar" was held, where over 50 brands, mostly upcycling, in collaboration with the Secretary of Culture, came together to create this event.
These are just some of the examples of this movement that is gaining momentum within contemporary Mexican fashion, democratizing the creation of clothing and making it a characteristic of modern Mexican fashion through upcycling.
What makes Mexican upcycling unique is that it deeply reflects elements rooted in our culture. Upcycled designs in Mexico have a common thread: they are a celebration of noise, texture, saturation, and contrast.
Each garment carries vibrant energy that captures the organized chaos that characterizes our cities and our traditions. Intense colors, bold combinations, and repurposed materials create pieces that tell stories.
Mexican upcycling fashion, or as I like to call it, "the centennial wave of Mexican fashion", refuses to be silent; it is loud and proud, and that is what sets it apart globally. Instead of seeking perfection, these garments embrace imperfection, creating beauty in the unusual and elevating the everyday to something extraordinary from our Mexican context.
Upcycling, as I have mentioned, is a distinctive feature of contemporary Mexican fashion. The creativity and innovative use of discarded materials have made this form of design perceived as an expression of modern alternative luxury, particularly attractive to foreigners between 18 and 38 years old who visit Mexico City. The gentrification of popular neighborhoods, such as Roma, Condesa, and Juárez, as well as the now-famous center of upcycling, “Tianguis de la Lagunilla”, has led to an increase in demand for sustainable and exclusive fashion, and upcycling has found a niche in this context. International visitors are looking for a unique proposition in Mexican upcycling fashion that mixes authenticity, sustainability, and a distinctive style that reflects Mexico's cultural richness and creative resilience (Dopico Aneiros, 2021).
This is especially true as we have seen the creation and interpretation of Mexican fashion through the eyes and context of designers belonging to a middle-upper class, who manage to leave the country and bring with them a more hegemonic Mexican fashion that is easier for conservative audiences to digest, mainly Millennials, Generation X, and Baby Boomers. However, Mexican upcycling is by Gen Z, for Gen Z.
These designers with such socio-economic backgrounds, I call “the millennial wave of Mexican design”, with many having studied at private universities, for example, the university where I had the privilege of studying thanks to a full scholarship I won in 2018 at the Fashion Design Center in Guadalajara. The founder, Marissa Destua, with her great talent and privilege, built this institution after taking courses in countries such as France, Belgium, Canada, and Italy during her youth. Today, it has trained students with important and constantly growing brands, such as Liberal Youth Ministry, Sentimiento, and Flavante, which cater to a more alternative and Gen Z market. But it has also graduated students from “the millennial wave of Mexican fashion”, like Julia y Renata and Carlos Pineda.
Nevertheless, the growth of upcycling in Mexico has been largely informal and self-managed. This is partly due to the lack of institutional support and free educational opportunities in sustainable fashion. Since the massive entry of Chinese products into Mexico, many national fashion producers, including maquiladoras and designers, were displaced in the early 2000s. Unfair competition, neoliberalism, and the low prices of imported products led small factories and local workshops to struggle to survive, leaving many creatives without formal alternatives in the fashion industry. Thus, upcycling emerged as a creative and economic outlet, a way to continue designing and producing fashion outside the conventional structures of the industry, since we only have European and American references. Upcycling is a distinctive hallmark of a more real narrative about what the Mexican fashion industry is, and even in other Latin American countries, such as Costa Rica. In conversations with Talia Cu, a fashion journalist who got me started on this platform, she told me that in Costa Rica, upcycling is a constant because fewer materials reach the country. However, Mexico, being in the middle of the Americas—with the United States right above and Latin America to the south—is richer and more abundant in upcycling fashion due to the route of second-hand clothing, or "paca."
The lack of formal infrastructure has also encouraged a "do-it-yourself" mentality among young designers. Instead of waiting to have resources or access to large workshops, these creators have taken the initiative to develop their own techniques and styles, creating a vibrant community that shares knowledge and resources. Social media has been fundamental to this process, allowing designers to showcase their work, connect with other creatives, and find niche buyers who value their unique propositions. The culture of self-management and informality in Mexican upcycling is not a limitation; on the contrary, I see it as one of its strengths, because it fosters an authentic, direct connection between the creator and the consumer. It is an “informal” industry in development with areas for growth but with tremendous potential.
To strengthen and boost Mexican upcycling fashion as a unique distinctive mark and a competitive advantage globally, it is essential to develop a strategy that includes both formalization and professionalism and the international promotion of this proposal. Upcycling in Mexico has the potential to differentiate itself because it speaks directly about our context: each recycled garment tells a story of resistance, reinterpretation, adaptation, and creativity. This narrative connects with global trends towards conscious consumption and the desire for unique pieces that have meaning beyond aesthetics.
A proposal to enhance this fashion would be to create government support programs and educational institutions in various states of the republic that promote upcycling as a recognized practice within the textile industry. This could include funding for upcycling workshops, technical and business training, as well as scholarships for young designers interested in exploring this field. Additionally, it is necessary to foster collaboration between entrepreneurs, researchers, designers, artists, artisans, journalists, and even engineers to integrate traditional techniques with contemporary upcycling practices, also incorporating innovation and technologies, thus creating a product that is not only sustainable but also celebrates Mexican cultural heritage and our capabilities and talent for innovation, which remain untapped due to a lack of dissemination, resources, and government support for Mexican citizens.
Promoting Mexican upcycling internationally also implies a branding campaign that positions it as an alternative luxury: handmade, unrepeatable pieces that encapsulate Mexico's cultural richness and reinterpret it through the eyes of Generation Z, or youth in general. It will be very interesting to see the new waves of design that Generation Alpha will bring. The global market is increasingly seeking authentic, sustainable proposals, and Mexican upcycling has everything it takes to become a reference within conscious fashion. It is not only a response to the environmental and social crises facing the textile industry, but also a celebration of who we are: creative, resilient, and deeply connected to our roots beyond the overexploited interpretation of traditional embroidery and "boho" Mexican styles (cof, cof: please, let's let go of Frida Kahlo, lol).
The process of upcycling involves creativity but also technical knowledge and awareness of environmental impact. Reusing materials reduces the demand for new resources and minimizes textile waste, a crucial problem considering that the fashion industry is one of the most polluting in the world. Studies have shown that producing new textiles consumes large amounts of water and energy; in contrast, upcycling significantly reduces these environmental footprints (Dopico Aneiros, 2021; Brooks, 2015).
Upcycling in Mexico is gaining momentum, and it is time for us to organize, for creators to share knowledge and experiences to strengthen a Mexican fashion that reflects our realities and needs. Fashion can be a tool for social change, and upcycling is just the beginning of what we can achieve when we look to our roots and reinterpret what others have discarded. If you are a creator, join this movement; together, we can build a fashion industry that is not only sustainable but also deeply ours. It is important to put egos aside, be open to collaboration, and think beyond ourselves: we can be fashion entrepreneurs who contribute to our country's Gross Domestic Product, boosting national fashion, the Mexican economy, and the pride of doing things WELL and, most importantly, made in Mexico.
References:
Sandoval-Hernández, E. (2019). Ropa de segunda mano: desigualdades entre el norte global y el sur global. Frontera Norte, vol. 31.
Dopico Aneiros, L. (2021). Materialidad y color en la industria de la moda, en la búsqueda del impacto cero. Universidad de Vigo.
Fletcher, K., & Tham, M. (2019). Earth Logic Fashion Plan. Centre for Sustainable Fashion.
Sandoval, E. (2012). Economía de la fayuca y del narcotráfico en el noreste de México. Extorsiones, contubernios y solidaridades en las economías transfronterizas.
Brooks, A. (2015). Clothing Poverty: The Hidden World of Fast Fashion and Second-hand Clothes. Zed Books.
INEGI (Instituto Nacional de Estadística y Geografía). (2023). Pobreza en México.
I wish I could give this a thousand Likes. Well-researched, excellently written, and two subjects near and dear to my heart: upcycling, and solving big environmental problems using Mexican ingenuity. I first learned about the Chilean clothing landfill on Adam Conover's show explaining why Amazon's clothing return policy is so awful and wasteful. https://youtu.be/EdL85EP7s5M?si=3HDq_BwIlY1wH2Q_
Anyway, thank you for this piece and I will share it where I can because this is an important message that people need to hear!
Please do keep writing! I am learning so much. So many people have this perception that fashion is a shallow, vapid, brainless industry, but it is people like you who prove the stereotype wrong.