Haitian Villagers Photographed Wearing Absurd ‘Slogan’ Tees by Paolo Woods

Welcome to the 127th insertion of DEMUR®, an analytical series highlighting the intricacies of the artistic world and the minutiae lying within. In this episode, we look at Dutch photographer Paolo Woods’ shocking imagery, capturing the ‘Pèpè’ trade in the heart of Haiti.

It’s no secret fast fashion has become one of the most significant antagonists in climate activism. As brands like H&M, Shien and Zara continue to pollute the textile industry, we grow closer to our devastating, seemingly inevitable fate. Producing 92 million tonnes of discarded fabric each year, we’re able to grasp a rough understanding of a t-shirt’s life cycle, from manufacturer to landfill.

While the majority of textile waste fails to encounter a preceding owner, few rays of hope glisten in second-hand shops and complex recycling processes. Often successful, chains like Value Village manage to breathe new life into pre-loved items, selling cheap, accessible alternatives to brand-new goods. This method is effective, but far from perfect, prompting international agreements akin to Haiti’s very own ‘Pèpè’ trade.

In the city of Port au Prince, the country’s waterfront capital, lies a market known as ‘Croix-des-Bossales’. A place where slaves used to be sold now houses millions of pounds of America’s most outrageous, unwanted clothing. Here, it’s nearly impossible to stumble across anything purchased outside the Western world, constantly importing undesirable graphics that simply didn’t sell.

Arriving in massive bails, the garments are often sold for less than a dime, which allows local citizens to wear quality clothing at a cheap price in an impoverished market. On the surface, this idea appears as a great small-scale solution for our global textile crisis, but has ultimately created some larger economic issues.

As the markets become saturated, tailors are forced out of business, and more ironically, most of these items are being produced in Haiti’s local sweatshops before export. On top of that, those wearing the clothes are unaware of each slogan, speaking Creole as a native dialect.