Guatemalan artisanry is dying: can price transparency save it?

Through price transparency and detailed documentation, Luna del Pinal brings value to Guatemala’s ancient crafts and its artisanal indigenous communities

Without proper documentation, Guatemalan artisanal techniques like hammered flowers and fine backstrap weaving will disappear

«Guatemalan crafts are dying, weekly, daily, deadly,» says Corina del Pinal. She’s calling in from the country, her homeland, rich in cultural expressions with 52 dialects, and the birthplace of textile techniques that often go unseen abroad. «Many crafts we’ll probably never know existed because their specific processes remain undocumented.» These hidden skills and expertise in fibers and (inter)weaving form the foundation of her label, Luna del Pinal, named after herself and co-founder Gabriela Luna, a former design school classmate.

Luna, calling in from London, the brand’s second base, recounts the spontaneous beginning of the label: «We decided to travel to Guatemala for a weaving course and fell in love with the technique, the artisanal indigenous communities, and how they worked. We stayed in touch with one association and sampled six backstrap woven coats with them. When they arrived—all gorgeous—we knew we wanted to do something with them. A designer friend had some space left at Paris Fashion Week in her showroom. We decided to rent it. That was our first collection.»

The patient handwork of the 200 artisans Luna del Pinal collaborates with today stands in stark contrast to Guatemala’s industrial sector, which accounts for 15 percent of exports and 8.9 percent of GDP, benefiting from trade agreements like CAFTA-DR that open Central American markets to Guatemalan goods and attract foreign investment—advantages the small-scale artisan sector does not enjoy. Without brands investing in these artisanal techniques and designs, the textile heritage long preserved by the country’s indigenous communities, risks fading into obscurity.

Partnering with indigenous communities for modern Guatemalan design

To rejuvenate these artisanal techniques for the global fashion market, the design duo began organizing bi-annual design summits, inviting small groups of artisans from their designated associations, which represent networks ranging from six women to hundreds. For several days, they worked together to design. «Those sessions were eye-opening,» Luna explains. «Many artisans had never spoken to artisans from other regions since they never left their villages. We had to call some of their husbands to seriously convince them to let their wives attend. Some artisans had to bring their kids.»

The artisanal summits sparked debates over Luna del Pinal’s designs—traditional with contemporary influences. «There is a gap between the artisans’ traditional way of doing things and our ideas,» explains Del Pinal. To illustrate, she points to the holes in a blouse she brought to the meeting. «Why would you want something broken like that? the women would say, laughing. And about our wovens with loosely hanging threads—a stunning effect— they’d say, You’re mad. This is not how we weave. It took time and conversation to show that we weren’t trying to break tradition, but to breathe new life into it and make it sellable.»

Once that was clarified, special textile techniques could be developed in partnership with Guatemala’s indigenous communities, such as stretch weave—natural rubber sewn onto the loom to create a handmade stretch fabric suitable for bodycon garments, like tube tops. «It took a year to develop.»

Artisanal Guatemalan indigenous communities: Poqomchí, Los Pájaros, K’iche’

Seven years after the company’s founding, Luna del Pinal actively collaborates with artisans from various regions and indigenous communities on a freelance basis. The artisans also earn income from selling their products at markets and through day jobs in agriculture, Del Pinal explains. «Artisans rely on daily income. Agricultural work is paid by the day, while textile work is only paid once the piece is completed.»

The artisanal indigenous communities specialize in different styles, sometimes variations of the same base technique. One example is backstrap weaving, where one end of the loom is attached to the weaver’s back and the other to a stationary object. Del Pinal shows a blouse with translucent squares, made by the Poqomchí indigenous community in a region called Cobán. «Backstrap weaving happens all over the country, but this particular area produces thinner, more delicate fabrics.»

The Los Pájaros indigenous community in Sololá has been partnering with the brand for five years, producing crafts such as hand-dyeing, embroidery, beading, and hammered flower printing. The association, Consorcio de Asociaciones del Municipio de Santiago Atitlán, works with women who have suffered abuse. In addition to training in artisanal skills and the economic independence that comes from working with the association, they also receive legal advice and support.

In the chilly city of Totonicapán, Luna del Pinal commissions K’iche’, specifically the Byron Ralac association, the last remaining masters of a technique used to create traditional brushed woolen blankets—which the brand in turn uses for fluffy coats with a cashmere-like hand feel. Unlike its industrial counterpart, commonly found in Mexico, the spinning and weaving process is done by hand. 

«The wool blankets undergo a ceremonial washing process in thermal waters at a specific temperature, as wool requires. Each artisan family performs this process, hiking 45 minutes at three in the morning to reach the thermal waters, using natural soap. They follow a strict choreography, rolling the blanket, unfolding it, and kicking it with bare feet. This part alone takes about three hours, after which the blankets are left to dry. Brushing takes another two hours, creating the signature texture and soft blending of the colorful fibers.»

Demi-couture: unique, handmade, and pricey

These artisanal production processes make Luna del Pinal demi-couture; each item is unique, handmade, and therefore pricey. Del Pinal explains: «In showrooms, we were told hundreds of times that nobody cares if it’s handmade; they care about the price.» The designer duo wanted to challenge that perspective with their self-invented ‘history label’, placed alongside the care label, which explains where each part of a garment comes from and how the material, process or task is priced. Luna explains the reasoning: «When customers learn about the history behind an item, the price starts to make sense.»

Luna del Pinal’s pricing structure is straightforward. Take, for example, a pair of hammered flower hemp flare pants: the cost of materials (Indian hemp, $28) and shipping in and out of Guatemala, including taxes, totals $74. Labor costs to make the garment and conduct quality control add another $20. Trimmings, sundries (including buttons and labels), and pattern grading (to offer different sizes) add $8. After accounting for a production buffer and sales percentages, the base price comes to $103, which is doubled for wholesale. Retailers purchase it at that price and multiply it by 2.7 to set the final price consumers will see.

That markup is reasonable, says Pinal: «Bigger brands easily multiply by ten, or even hundreds. Imagine: the most expensive polo shirt only costs $4 to make. They make massive profits because they can control both production and retail. Essentially, they become marketing firms.» Luna adds that they can produce thousands of units per item, lowering their costs. «When our production grows, we need more artisans, which costs more, not less, because piece is made individually. There’s no economy of scale.» Unaware of these dynamics, Consumers often overestimate the value of big brands, not realizing that products from smaller brands working with artisanal Indigenous communities are more reasonably priced.

While large brands benefit from mass production, lowering costs and increasing profit margins, artisanal brands face the opposite challenge: each item is unique and requires skilled, labor-intensive work. This process is reflected in Luna del Pinal’s price breakdown, which includes the cost of artisan labor. For example, in the case of the hemp flare pants, $12 is allocated for the hammered flower printing.

Luna explains the intricacies of pricing artisanal techniques: «It starts with the measurement. Do we price it by meters, by the number of flowers, or by the number of hammers used? Then there’s expertise—the work of a grandmother with 40 years of experience can’t be priced the same as the daughter’s work. Time also plays a role. If we need a sample done faster, we offer more money. If the materials are difficult to work with, we must compensate for that. We verify prices with the artisans five times throughout the process to account for these changes in cost.»

Mainstreaming price transparency: «small brands would sell much more.»

Why aren’t bigger brands putting price transparency higher on the agenda? Del Pinal likes to believe that they want to, but simply don’t have as much information. «When you go with an artisanal model or couture, you must know every detail. We’re not just buying; we’re creating from scratch, so we can fill in the blanks of where, when, by whom, and how long. Sometimes, when we try to trace materials further back, suppliers block the search. For example, some cotton suppliers won’t disclose exactly where it was picked. Still, we get much closer to the truth.»

What if bigger companies were forced to create price breakdowns anyway? Luna: «We’re already seeing some examples where people have uncovered the low production costs of luxury brands—and they were shocked. If price transparency became mainstream, perceptions of value would completely change. Small artisanal brands like Luna del Pinal would sell much more.»

Luna del Pinal’s price breakdowns, along with a map of all indigenous artisanal indigenous communities still in the works, serve one primary purpose: heritage preservation. Del Pinal adds, «There is no ‘artisanal encyclopedia’ for Latin American craftsmanship—no central documentation online or anywhere else. The ambitious level of transparency we’re striving for is essential for our textile heritage to survive.»

Anna Roos van Wijngaarden

With thanks to Louise Bennetts for her insights on garment pricing principles.