Catuxa Fernández i Ignacio Aldanondo: "Today's luxury is dishonest because it's not made with the finest materials."

BarcelonaIn a cozy workshop in Raval, Catuxa Fernández and Ignacio Aldanondo spend hours handcrafting shoes that, in addition to being beautiful and comfortable, will last for decades if the owner takes good care of them. They began their journey as master shoemakers almost 12 years ago, although their relationship goes back much further, when they shared an architectural office that they eventually closed to dedicate themselves to working with their hands. In 2019, they received the National Crafts Award for Innovation.

Why did you become interested in artisanal shoemaking?

— Catuxa Fernández: We'd always been interested in footwear, and in fact, Ignacio collected pairs of old shoes. At the same time, although we didn't lack work in the architectural field, the type of work we received was increasingly degraded. During the 2008 crisis, when I'd already been working for a few years, the quality of the work worsened. Ultimately, architecture is about solving problems 90% of the time, and the creative side is very limited. We loved working with our hands and making models, but we no longer had time for that. Through a shoemaker who was taking a course to learn shoemaking, we met Pitu Cunillera, a master shoemaker based in Raval, and we began our training. We then continued with Carlos Piñol, another master. Initially, it was a hobby, a way to apply everything we knew about construction. Leaving architecture was gradual, because it's hard to close an office.

But was there a moment when you realized that crafts could be a way to make a living?

— Ignacio Aldanondo: Our profession, which was originally intended to be my permanent one, didn't bring me joy; it was a very sad situation. Catuxa saw it more clearly. She was the one who said, "Why not?" Closing an architectural practice is very complex; it's like stopping an ocean liner. While we were learning the shoemaking trade, we spent two or three years gradually closing the practice.

What does manual work bring you?

— CF: First of all, there's more learning about the craft than in architecture. In architecture, the execution is delegated to others, which prevents you from truly learning about the subject. When you make something by hand, you're ultimately responsible. You learn from your own mistakes. We've been in the footwear world for the same amount of time now as we have in architecture—about twelve years—and we've noticed we've learned infinitely more.

— IA: If you apply this to another profession, it's as if we imagine Carme Ruscalleda doesn't know how to cook; it's impossible. In architecture, you learn to reason, justify, draw, and design, but not how to build. You're on a construction site, giving orders and directions to people whose work you neither master nor control. In shoemaking, the opposite happens: we knew how to design a shoe, but not how to build it. When you build it, you realize that, in reality, you didn't know how to design it because it depends entirely on how it's assembled and how the pieces are joined together.

Do you feel like you are the resistance against a system that has made trades disappear?

— CF: Absolutely, and very happily. It's not just us. It's our clients and our students too. When it seemed to us that brands fast fashion While they were the worst there was, others, even more harmful, have emerged. We've been teaching in fashion schools for seven years and have seen a shift in awareness among the students, who will later become part of this market. Not everything is valid anymore. Being part of this has made us incorporate it into our personal lives: we're less consumerist and much more aware of what it takes to create a product. We have many friends and acquaintances who can't afford our shoes, but who tell us: "I love that you exist." We make shoes just like other industries do, but we have nothing to do with it.

What do you think when you see major clothing chains selling shoes for 20 euros?

— CF: We show our students videos about a sneaker brand that is manufactured in China and where a person spends fourteen hours a day sewing just the tongue. It's one thing to be told about the fast fashion and its implications and again see the consequences.

— IA: Marxism taught us that labor alienates, but you need to see it in images to understand what it means to alienate a human being, to make them spend fifteen hours doing a process that a robot could do. We're not programmed for this. We weren't activists, but the job itself makes you reflect on things. We've been building ourselves while learning the trade.

There will also be people who will tell you that your shoes are expensive, because they cost between 700 and 800 euros.

— CF: Yes, it happens to us sometimes. When someone tells us this, I like it because I get a chance to share things.

What things?

— CF: I explain to them that the number of hours involved in making a handmade shoe is considerable, that it's not just about maintaining a craft. The product is so diverse in terms of quality and durability... The price is more equivalent to the years it will last. These are products that cost a lot of money, but they're cheap for the environment, for people, and for the consumer themselves, who will have an object they'll want to take care of. With footwear, there's a phenomenon where repairing it is much more expensive than buying a new one. We have many repair friends who tell us that, since quality has dropped so much, when someone wants to repair it, it's not worth it. When repairing no longer makes sense, we need to rethink things. If everything is produced to be thrown away and quickly broken, we should rethink what we consume. That doesn't mean everyone has to invest what our shoes cost, especially considering the country's salaries, but it does mean looking beyond the brands and what they're doing.

— IA: We use a one-by-one artisanal process, but there are other workshops that use a semi-serialized process and are of high quality. It's about being interested and inquiring.

Who are your clients?

— CF: Most of the people are from the United States, who happen to pass by the workshop or who come specifically because they saw us on Instagram. Then, curiously, we have a kind of word of mouth there. In the United States, there isn't much artisanal footwear production, except for the boots. cowboy, and the American public places a high value on the ability to customize garments. Additionally, some of our audiences are oversized or undersized, or have proportions that fall outside the standard.

How long does it take to make a pair of shoes?

— CF: We currently have a five-month lead time for delivery. It takes us a month to make a pair of shoes. That's fifty hours, which can't be done in a row because the shoe needs to be in perfect shape, and there are some processes that require waiting.

I read that you also have clients from Japan

— CF: We have two points of sale there. We also have one in New York. These are places that understand our timescales, our margins, which are very tight. They order ten pairs or seven, which is something we can do and doesn't conflict with our philosophy of not having stock. For me, it's important to do what they ask for, and not just make things because I want them and then market them to sell them. I think it's a different way of approaching consumption and sales. They order so few units that they sell them all.

Surely, because of your prices, they will tell you that you are elitist.

— CF: Elitist is empty luxury, the logo. Elitist is the fact that the shoes I wear have a big logo. Our shoes don't have a price tag; I think they look pretty modest. Our customers are 0% elitist, but rather people who share our way of thinking and who happen to have money or save a lot to be able to buy our shoes.

— IA: Our teacher used to say, "If it's elitist, we've involuntarily chosen it." That is, we do things the way they were done 200 years ago. Today, the market positions you as high luxury because the shoe is worth what it's worth, but that's because the hours now cost much more than they used to. To make things cheaper, what you do is reduce the hours. We continue doing things the way they were done. You decide to do things well, respecting the timescale, and that's truly radical. I don't know if it's anti-capitalist, but we're not going down from here. Now, what's compromised is quality, not design. With a shoe, the part you can't see is what makes it durable and comfortable. When we started, we were so ignored that we thought we could make shoes for our friends for 200 euros, but when you get to know the craft, you realize you can't. We have to live with this contradiction because we're not even part of a privileged class. Our clients are not Visa Platinum clients.

Aren't they the people queuing in front of the big shops on Passeig de Gràcia?

— CF: Those who have come have left because they've told us, "I want this and that for now." When we've told them it will take five months, they've left with all the bags with every logo in the world. They leave because they can't be fast and showy here. I think it's natural selection. If you don't deeply understand how our shoes are made, you wouldn't spend what they cost.

His speech makes me think of the designer Cristóbal Balenciaga, who was a true craftsman and is now conceived as luxury.

— IA: The old luxury was elitist, but it was worth what it should be worth. The difference is that today's luxury, that of Passeig de Gràcia, is not honest, because it is not made with the best materials nor are the necessary times respected, which was what previously determined luxury. It cannot be that a shoe of the same quality comes from the same chain. fast fashion and a shoe from a big brand, and one costs 20 euros and the other 900. Selling something cheaper than it should cost and selling it higher than it should cost is not honest.