September 01, 2026
When I started Descalza in 2017, I felt like the artisanal and bespoke market was beginning to gain momentum. I was building a handmade clothing brand at the same time Amazon Prime was becoming the norm. And I started noticing something interesting.
People would see our price tags and hesitate.
Sometimes, they would suggest that we have our pieces made overseas. More than once, I was told I should have everything made in El Salvador because it would be cheaper. Others suggested China so we could save on production.
And to be clear, these people were not my customers. But their reactions stayed with me because they revealed something bigger about the way we have been taught to think about clothing.
The advice wasn't coming from people in the fashion industry. It was coming from people who knew fast fashion. They were comparing a handmade garment to the price of Zara, H&M, Shein, Fashion Nova, and countless other mass retailers.
And that was the problem.
They were comparing two completely different worlds.

DESCALZA WAS NEVER MEANT TO BE FAST FASHION
When I was building Descalza, I already knew how artisans worked and the kind of art they produced. I knew that if we were going to honor their work, Descalza needed to operate much more like an atelier.
So, what exactly is an atelier?
Atelier is simply a French word for an artist's workshop or studio. In fashion, you might associate the word with haute couture and brands like Dior, Chanel, or Louis Vuitton.
An atelier is where the people behind a garment have the time and space to focus on their craft. Patternmakers develop the patterns. Fabric cutters carefully prepare the materials. Seamstresses construct the garment. Embroiderers and beaders may spend hours working by hand on a single piece.
Sometimes, an extraordinary amount of work goes into something that will ultimately be worn by just one person.
Before Descalza, I was fortunate enough to work at Vera Wang's studio in New York City. I got to be in the room with these makers. I watched them in their white coats, working with incredible precision and bringing fabric to life.
The best way I can describe it is like watching a composer orchestrate a symphony.

One person cuts. Another sews. Another presses. Another hand-finishes.
And eventually, all of those instruments come together to create something beautiful. It was absolutely beautiful. And it taught me something I have never forgotten:
"There is a different kind of value in something that has been given time."
THEN THERE'S FAST FASHION
We know the names. Zara. Shein. H&M. Fashion Nova. And unfortunately, there are many more. Fast fashion's value proposition isn't craftsmanship. It isn't time. It's speed.
A traditional fashion brand may spend months designing, developing, fitting, sampling, and producing a collection before it reaches the customer. Fast fashion has built an entire system around shortening that timeline.

A trend appears. It gets designed. Samples are made. Production begins. And within weeks, that trend can be sitting on a rack, or appearing in your algorithm.
Now imagine what it takes to manufacture that volume of clothing, at that speed, over and over again.
Someone has to cut the fabric. Someone has to sew it. Someone has to dye it. Someone has to package it. Someone has to transport it across the world. And the system has to keep moving.
Faster. And faster. And faster.
This is where the $10 shirt becomes complicated.
"Because when you see a $10 shirt, you aren't seeing the entire cost of making it. Someone, or something, is absorbing the difference."
Often, it's the person who made it through low wages, unsafe conditions, and/or impossible production expectations.
And it's also our planet through resource consumption, pollution, waste, and discarded clothing.
The price tag may say $10. But the true cost is much higher.
AND FAST FASHION CHANGED MORE THAN OUR WARDROBES
It changed our expectations. This is the part I think about often. Fast fashion didn't just make clothing cheaper. It changed what our brains believe clothing is supposed to cost.
If we see a T-shirt for $12, our brain categorizes that as normal. If we see a dress for $30, that can feel reasonable. If we see a $60 garment, we might start asking ourselves if it's worth it.
But show that same person a $180 handmade garment and suddenly the reaction is: That's expensive.
Maybe it is expensive compared to what we've been conditioned to expect. But expensive compared to what? That's the question.
"When a price tag makes us flinch, sometimes it's not because the garment is objectively too expensive. It's because our brains don't have a category for it."
We've become accustomed to clothing being cheap, abundant, and immediately available. We've been taught that if something costs more, we should look for a cheaper alternative. And convenience has become so deeply embedded in our lives that we've started to mistake it for value.
But a handmade garment operates under a completely different equation.

You're not only paying for the fabric. You're paying for:
You're paying for time.
DESCALZA CHOOSES A DIFFERENT PACE
This is why I never wanted Descalza to become a brand that competed on speed.
Our pieces are made with artisans and seamstresses who deserve to be valued for their work, not pushed to produce faster so we can make something cheaper.
As the designer and founder, my priorities are the people and the planet.
Speed will never be our value proposition. And honestly, I'm grateful that I've found a community that doesn't expect it from us. Because I believe something happens when we slow down enough to see how something was made.

We begin to appreciate the person behind it. We begin to understand that craftsmanship takes time. And we begin to question the idea that everything we buy should be cheap, immediate, and disposable.
"We as humans adapt to the pace we're given. We always have."
So if businesses have taught us to value speed, we can teach ourselves to value something else.
People. Craftsmanship. Intention. Time.
And perhaps most importantly, we can remind ourselves that we are worthy of those things, too.
We are worth something that was made by hand. We are worth something that took time. We are worth something made with intention.
When we begin to prioritize our own sense of worth over convenience, we change more than what hangs in our closets.
We change what we are willing to support. And when enough of us make that shift, businesses have to listen.

Maybe then, instead of building systems that ask people to move faster and faster, we can build businesses that value the people making the pieces we bring into our homes and our lives.
I believe the future of fashion isn't about making things faster. It's about remembering who and what was worth slowing down for.
-Caro Arias
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