Brand conscience: Barehands is the hot Singapore label selling clothes made by refugees

SINGAPORE – Local fashion brand Barehands bears all the hallmarks of millennial cool.

Its new store at Takashimaya Shopping Centre is decorated with quirky wood furnishings and a statement mustard wall. Inventory is heavy on tasteful linens – like a pair of tencel pants in peacock teal – cheerful prints and tactile handbags, woven and beaded.

Scan the QR codes on the fabric care labels of its clothes, though, and one finds the story of each object’s maker.

A breezy blue dress, for instance, can be traced to Zahra X, an Afghan refugee and mother of two. She is part of the refugee tailoring community in Malaysia that sews around 95 per cent of Barehands’ apparel. A collection of woven pochettes, Barehands’ hot new product, is the work of leather artisans in war-torn Myanmar.

Providing livelihood to such marginalised communities is at the core of the six-year-old business, say founders Chanel Go and Germaine Lye. They are speaking to The Straits Times a week after opening their second outpost at Takashimaya on Nov 14, two years after the launch of their first store at Funan mall.

Barehands started online in 2019.

The latest expansion is a mark of the brand’s growing pull. Says Ms Lye, 35: “Our revenue has definitely tripled and our e-mailing database has also tripled since then.”

The new store’s ready-made model, where small batches of goods are sold off the rack, is also a departure from the brand’s usual made-to-order mode and another vote of confidence in their solid customer base, she adds. A do-it-yourself corner in the store still allows for made-to-order purchases if customers prefer.

Some buyers are drawn to Barehands’ social mission, while others simply love the products, which are fully handmade by artisans, says Ms Go, 29. Prices range between $6 for a scrunchie and $210 for a beaded bag.

These days, Ms Lye has even begun to spot the odd passer-by kitted out in one of Barehands’ typically roomy and minimalist dresses.

This kind of market appeal among its main demographic of 25- to 45-year-olds is a rare hurrah for a social enterprise. Entering their well-appointed Takashimaya outlet, it seems some of it must be due to the duo’s business and design savvy.

In addition to handling social media marketing, they have launched collaborations with local creatives that boast their own fan bases, like artist Dirtydoodies and crafty content creator Teeteeheehee.

Clothes for a cause

All this comes second to Ms Lye and Ms Go. Says Ms Go, a former “unwilling” business major: “We’re not particularly passionate about fashion. The social effect is most important.”

They are most proud of their work with tailor Mr Jamshid, a former Afghan refugee in Malaysia with whom they partnered from 2020 to 2022. After connecting with him remotely through a non-profit, they took him on board as chief dressmaker for his workmanship and commitment, paying him for his labour while absorbing the costs of designing and marketing his work.

Mr Jamshid then recruited the first members of what is now the refugee tailor community in Malaysia, Barehands’ longest-running beneficiaries.

He has since moved to Australia as a permanent resident. His work with Barehands, detailed in his successful application for resettlement to the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees, surely played a role. Three more tailors later followed suit.

Ms Lye must have told this story a thousand times, but one can still hear the thrill in her voice. “This is why we exist,” she says.

Ms Go lays out their credo: “When people have meaningful work, the impact goes beyond just having a financial resource or an income. It builds dignity and confidence, allows them to not just support themselves but also their families and the communities they live in, which in turn can lead to them investing in education and more.

“The ripple effect can be very large.”

The Barehands backstory

The two women have had to find their footing along the way. Whereas at the start, they aimed for breadth, working with around 200 artisans – some of whom were amateurs to craft – they now focus on depth of impact, narrowing their net to just under 30 artisans in Malaysia, Indonesia, Myanmar and the Philippines.

In Singapore, they work with a single mum who helps with accessories and the local deaf community. These partners have a certain level of skill, artistry and commitment, says Ms Lye.

She once had ambitions of becoming an interior designer, while Ms Go had her eye on medicine.

Both changed course after volunteer trips oveseas in their teens.

Ms Lye had her moment while picking lice out of village children’s hair in Indonesia. “I was also teaching them how to count from one to 10 in English, and I was looking at their faces and thinking, ‘Wow, these people are so happy and so innocent, even in their tattered clothes and with no shoes.’

“They were shouting, ‘One, two, three!’” The number 11 particularly delighted them, she adds. “I thought, ‘Hey, I enjoy this so much, seeing how happiness doesn’t have to be material and about the badges you accumulate for yourself.’”

For Ms Go, the work is a moral responsibility. She says: “I come from a more comfortable family and, at home, I have never lacked for anything. Then how come these people, just because they were born in a different family and community, have to struggle to put food on the table and have their children die from the common flu?

“It’s unfair if I don’t do anything about it.”