Daily TribuneThe minimal fabric wastage was also of great appeal to the designer, which is another construct she picked up from when it was first used in the Middle Ages.
Apol Massiebeau, designer and founder of Good Luck, Humans.
PHOTOGRAPHS BY BEBETH TIMBOL FOR THE DAILY TRIBUNE
One of a kind creations for the Greenbelt pop-up.
Good Luck, Humans is a reflection of the energy and exuberance of Massebieau’s vision and her clothes.
Massebieau was ahead of the curb in creating clothes that are not only stylish but also very inclusive.
where the creative process begins.
This story begins with fabric scraps, and an idea out of the Middle Ages. Since she was a child, Apol Massebieau would spend hours watching her mother make beautiful dresses. One of her earliest memories was sewing in the beads for her aunt’s wedding dress. “I had to sew in the pearls one by one. It was such a heavy gown,” she explains. “I loved it, and it became a core memory.”
When she got to college, she joined UP Repertory to make costumes. She had also started designing her own clothes to suit her eclectic style. What she realized, in the process, is how much fabric scraps were left behind in the process. This led to a small business idea that would later evolve into a fun fashion brand that is cool, leaves minimal waste, and is inclusive to all.
So Good Luck, Humans was born.
The brand started out as part of the answer to Massebieau’s conundrum about what to do with all fabric scraps. She had the idea to turn them into little balls, patiently sewing and stuffing each one by hand. This led to the Lucky Necklace, which became the first GLH product. She also pieced them together to make Lucky Button pillows.
By 2018, Massebieau started R&D on adding garments to her product line. When the pandemic rolled around, she made the decision to pivot her business to focus on designing clothes. “Everybody just seems to have more fun doing it,” she explains further. “I’m really into experimenting with the different shapes that we can do, and the different manipulations.” She hasn’t fully let go of the lucky buttons though, applying them to bags and small accessories when production permits.
It was her lifelong fascination with textures that led Massebieau to the idea of smocking, which would become her brand’s trademark. “When I was making clothes as a club kid in the ‘90s, I always wanted something with shebang — synthetic fur, buttons, beading,” she recalls. “I want the clothes I make to get noticed.”
She took this idea to the drawing board, doing a lot of research on how to apply the technique to her designs. “Smocking has been around since the Middle Ages, but nowadays, it’s not very common anymore. I try different stitches and patterns, and apply them to different fabrics,” she adds.
The minimal fabric wastage was also of great appeal to the designer, which is another construct she picked up from when it was first used in the Middle Ages. “Back then, textiles were very precious. It was expensive to have it, so they wanted to use all they had. Smocking gathers all the fabric, shapes it into what you want, and you hardly waste anything,” Massebieau points out.
Safe to say, Massebieau was ahead of the curb in creating clothes that are not only stylish but also very inclusive. “The smocking expands and flattens depending on the person who wears it. And it makes them feel good in it,” she notes. “It’s such a wonderful technique — beautiful, practical and adaptable.” This flexibility lets her stick to her commitment to minimal waste, producing just enough pieces with each run.
Not one to subscribe to the idea of a specific advocacy, Massebieau puts more importance into training, and taking care of her people. “My advocacy is to produce a good product, and that the people will feel good wearing them,” she shares.
“I train my workers to think that way, too. And to minimize fabric waste.” Providing good employment is also a tenet of her business, providing opportunities for unskilled women, teaching them how to hem and finish a garment. “If they show and eagerness to learn, we teach them to use the sewing machine. Others, we train them in office skills,” Massebieau adds. “It just makes good business sense.”
The name Good Luck, Humans, which she thought of while lying in bed one night, is a reflection of the energy and exuberance of Massebieau’s vision and her clothes. “It’s funny and witty. It’s hopeful, but also parang good luck na lang sa atin (like a wish for good luck to us all). It’s a wink at people,” she explains.
As for the spaceship on the label? “People just kept asking me if it’s because aliens are coming,” she quips. “So I put it there.”
The months of August and September are busy ones for Massebieau and her team. For starters, their pop-up store in Greenbelt (their second one!) runs until September 30, and has become a playground for clients to try on their favorites pieces — rendered in different fabrics and smocking styles — to first dibs at her latest creations. “We are playing around with a lot of ideas. Pleats, more Piña, and new silhouettes for smocking,” says Massebieau. “Also, since I am in La Union, there are a lot of thrift shops. We found a lot of vintage kimonos, so we took the fabric, and applied our smocking to it.”
The new pieces will also be available in the upcoming MaArte Fair and ArteFino, apart the brand’s regular spot at the monthly Bench Katutubo Pop-Up Market.
At its very core, Good Luck, Humans is about three things — producing a good product, caring for its people, and being a good human being. These are truths that Apol Massebieau lives by in her day-to-day at work and at home. “For me, it’s more of a way of being. The right thing to do. Sometimes what is good for the business is not good for the human being,” she explains. “Don’t be a greedy capitalist. Do what is right for ourselves as humans.”
