Thula Sindi has just returned from China. He has visited three times already this year. This time he was in Hunan province showcasing his own brand and his Africa Rise fashion collective at the 4th Africa/China Economic and Trade Expo. He assures me, despite my reservations, that a little state surveillance in our own streets would not go amiss if it means you could feel as safe here as you do in China.
He is a Sinophile and his aim is to enter that market, preferably with a store in Shanghai. “They want what we have — they already have all the designer stuff, the Birkins and the mass market trends. They want to be able to stand out and African design offers them something unique, well made and beautiful. We sold out in Changsa.”
We are meeting for sushi at Mezepoli in Melrose Arch — one of his locals — and his order reflects a fundamental aspect of his personality: if there is a direct path to a successful outcome he will find it. In this case he is not bothering with the many small Greek meze plates and order overkill — he is taking the direct path to hunger satiation with an easy and effective sushi order. He gets straight to the point. I have always loved that about him. It is part of his general state of being. He doesn’t get too ruffled about the small stuff. Thula has always known his own mind.
What does that mean? It means a shot at the Chinese market; his Africa Arise Store where he has brought a tranche of South African designers along with him for the last six years; and knowing he was getting the hell out of Klerksdorp where he was born and raised as soon as he could.
“My life is quite linear, especially because I knew what I wanted. I studied fine art, which I adore, but I've always had a passion for fashion. I love making stuff. My grandpa used to have this old sewing machine, those manual ones, and he taught me how to use it. So even before I got to high school, I knew how to make shirts and stuff.”
He was single-minded about living in Joburg as a boarder at the Joburg School of the Arts and then studying fashion at LISOF, where he felt stymied by the slow pace.
His first job at Vlisco, the Dutch wax cloth manufacturing company, reflects his modus operandi. He was appointed as head designer straight out of fashion school and given a healthy profit share — probably because the Dutch were not expecting much from this endeavour.
He immediately did what he does best, think creatively and laterally, and set up several collaborations with other South African designers — which became a runaway success. He was asked to renegotiate the contract and when he resisted they let him go. He was too expensive for other fashion retailers in South Africa, so he started his own label.
He credits Gavin Rajah’s Brand South Africa Paris showcase for setting him on his path to becoming a household name. That was 17 years ago.
“I feel that in this business you have to be really strong, especially now. I think it was a bit easier when we started. I don't know how designers do it now, it’s really tough. So we did Paris, and that was really good. That kind of catapulted me to the next level. But having your own business, for me, wasn't far from what I understood, because my paternal grandmother had her own business. She used to sell vegetables, and she would take me with her to go and buy groceries and stock.
The moment I could afford a production manager, I got one, and that's how I did it for everything. I don't do my own accounting. Even though I can, I don't. I've been working with the same team since I started.
— Thula Sindi, fashion designer
“I would think she really hated me because she let my other cousins go and play, and then I must go with her and do all of these logistics. But it was so educational. She used the bulk of her money to buy the stuff that does well, and then she'd keep a small amount and experiment with new products.
“She had different packages for different kinds of homes. Some people couldn’t really afford a lot, so she'd have a mini pack. And for guys who lived in those mining hostels, and traditional families.”
He translated these early entrepreneurial lessons into a thriving business. “You know how the rest goes: continue, continue, continue, collection after collection after collection. But the way I stay sane and positive is I do all the fun stuff. Every garment you've ever seen of mine, I've designed. I don't know why people outsource the design to a junior designer. The only reason you actually like being in this business is drawing pretty dresses.
“Why do you take away the fun bit of your job? I did the opposite. The moment I could afford a production manager, I got one, and that's how I did it for everything. I don't do my own accounting. Even though I can, I don't. I've been working with the same team since I started.”
He is passionate about the next 17 years and moving the African fashion industry forward.
“It's almost a genre on its own. People really don't understand that we represent something else and once they encounter things that are a different proportion, that tell a different story, it's so engaging, especially because everything else is so over marketed. We have a story to tell about fashion. Ideologically, we are somewhere else in terms of why we create, how we create, and that's very interesting .”
This article was first published in Sunday Times. Lifestyle.
