DRESSES MADE TO IMPRESS
Bridal shop owner carries on in her grandmother’s tradition of creativity
It might not have been in the cards for Candice Gonzales to become a designer if she hadn’t diligently sat at her grandmother’s side as she was sewing and altering clothes.
Most of the time she would draw as her grandmother hemmed, being the “annoying grandkid” who wanted to be involved in her grandmother’s work, speaking to her in English while her grandmother answered in Spanish.
Unbeknownst to Gonzales at the time, the two were in separate worlds. Her grandmother spent her hours working to support her family while Gonzales was enchanted by her grandmother’s craft.
“I was so fascinated by what she did. I didn’t want to play outside. I wanted to sit by her side and ask a bunch of questions,” Gonzales said.
Her grandmother started off by teaching her how to sew beads in a straight line, then moved on to lace appliques, tracing the pattern with a needle and thread. By the time she was in eighth grade, Gonzales had designed and made her first original dress.
She opened her bridal shop, House of RemiRose, last year in south Phoenix after her instincts called her back to the community where she grew up.
It is the culmination of a vision and familial and cultural legacies. Those legacies date as far back to Mexico’s earliest roots, she said. When Spanish conquistador Hernán Cortés and his men arrived in Mexico in 1519, they were amazed by the Aztec city of Tenochtitlan because of its lushness, ingenuity and advanced infrastructure. For Gonzales, that history signifies a storied tradition of creativity and perseverance.
“Going back to the history of Mexico, our people are creators and that land that we created was one of the most beautiful lands. People didn’t understand how we had running water in places where other people
didn’t have running water,” Gonzales said. “People didn’t understand how we were smart enough to do that. What I like about our culture is that if we put our minds to something, and we say we’re going to do it, we’re going to do it. And I always feel like my word is my bond. That’s just a part of me that I know has come down from generations.”
A family affair
The foundations of House of RemiRose aren’t just about sewing or design. Gonzales gained her business sense helping her paternal grandmother make and sell burritos door to door in south Phoenix. It was a reflection of life as a growing small business in Mexico, where it’s customary to sell food and wares by knocking on doors.
Gonzales’ father owned a thrift store and taught her how to reupholster old furniture. It was through their guidance that she learned how to run a business and the value of hard work, she said. That business sense that brought her to draw inspiration from wedding venues in California that were attached to dress shops and hair and makeup artists.
House of RemiRose is nestled in Alborada Village, a wedding venue hidden away from direct view of the bustling Central Avenue that weaves together fairy tale and rustic Arizona vibes with wagon wheels, a carriage and an elegant fountain. Gonzales partnered with her best friend Sierra Garcia, who operates her nail salon on the bottom floor of the boutique, to complete the experience she was looking for to provide brides with everything they need.
Gonzales offers premade and custom wedding dresses, bridal makeup, bridal nails and body contouring. She gave her business the name RemiRose as a tribute to her father, Remigio. Rose was one of the most popular names of 2016, and it had always stood out to her.
Her custom pieces can range from $3,000 to $10,000, but as part of her business strategy, Gonzales wants to break from the “cutthroat” nature of the bridal industry where sellers often compete to lower prices to make a sale.
Instead, she said she’s honest about how much time, material and labor go into a custom piece and suggests dresses already in the shop or, if necessary, another boutique that can accommodate the bride.
It’s a reflection of the integrity her
grandmother taught her and her commitment to providing quality products and service, she said.
“That’s how my grandmother is,” Gonzales said. “My grandmother was like, if I did something wrong 10 times. Guess what? We’re redoing it 10 times.
“She believes a lot in quality and she will not show anything beneath her skill level. There’s no way she could put her name on something if it’s not done correctly.”
A grandmother’s love
Gonzales’ grandmother, Maria Luisa Flores, is now in her late 60s and is the rock Gonzales leans on. She brings her sewing machine to her grandmother’s house and asks for advice. On recent day, her grandmother told Gonzales to get rid of her manicure because her long nails were slowing down her sewing.
Gonzales’ grandmother had fled to El Paso from Chihuahua amid cartel violence. To Gonzales, she seemed fearful of speaking of her talent, and fearful of failing. Flores didn’t talk of Mexico very often, and Gonzales didn’t have many opportunities to visit her grandmother’s home country.
Flores dedicated herself to her work, never really advertising her alteration
services and yet drawing clientele from all over the Valley. She worked away through nights when everyone else was asleep so she could focus in silence.
“People would come from Scottsdale and I have no idea how they knew she was there,” Gonzales said. “But they knew she was there on 16th and Baseline. I don’t know how she had so many clients, but she worked so hard to put food on the table.”
Flores ran her business out of her home for 36 years. She said Candice began evolving as a seamstress as she grew up and committed herself to making her own clothes. “As she got older, she started dedicating herself to it,” Flores said. “She always wanted me to make her dresses but I didn’t always have time, so she took it up on her own.”
Whatever Gonzales needed help with or hadn’t learned from her formal schooling, Flores stepped in to show her. When Gonzales opened up her shop, Flores said she felt fulfilled. “Échale ganas,” Flores told Gonzales.
“She’s very energetic and a fast learner,” Flores said. “Anything she puts her mind to, she can do it.”
As fate would have it
Everything Flores couldn’t teach
Gonzales she learned at the Phoenix Art Institute, where she arrived to her first day of class with a pencil and paper. Her classmates showed up with slick MacBooks.
That’s when she first confronted having to adapt to the digital evolution of the fashion industry. She made it through college with an old laptop that fit her budget. Today she’s proud that she is versed in the new and old school methods of her craft.
“(My grandmother) went to school in Mexico, and I’m going to school in a whole different country, and the difference is so major now because everything is going digital,” Gonzales said. “My grandmother couldn’t teach me that way. So I learned two great ways, I think. The traditional way and the digital aspect of industry.”
Gonzales worked for the Almond Tree Wedding Boutique in north Phoenix just before the COVID-19 pandemic hit, “planting the seeds” for her business. As weddings and stores took a hit in the wake of lockdowns, the store had to close.
The owner, Pam Hardy, wanted to make sure everyone was taken care of with the store closing and offered to
help find other employment for her staff.
When Gonzales said she wanted to open her own shop, Hardy gave her a year’s worth of dresses left over from the store. That gave her a solid head start when looking for a place to house her vision. She worked with the owners of Alborada Village to switch some of its amenities around so her store could be placed in what had been office space.
The space is part luxury, part mystery and part fantasy with a brilliant white chandelier, soft lights, plush couches and a painting by Gonzales lurking behind her desk that looks out into the sales floor.
Though she has a history working in bridal boutiques and makes wedding dresses now, Gonzales is looking to grow into other aspects of her craft, like alterations and sustainable fast fashion that is comfortable and can withstand repeated use.
She doesn’t want to limit herself to one concept. She hopes to grow her fashion house and show the world her family’s talents that they didn’t always have the opportunity to share.
“I’m very proud of who I am and I’m very proud of the ability that I have,” Gonzales said. “I can’t hide it. My grandmother, she’s in her late 60s now, and I feel like I have to be able to showcase the things that my family hid away. And I know it’s in me. And I know it comes from being Mexican.”
A dream to give back
Ever since she was in school, Gonzales always wanted to be involved in
her community, whether it was volunteering or running for class president. These days when she’s not at her shop, she is feeding the homeless and volunteering with Espiritu charter school in south Phoenix.
It was the spirit that drew her back to south Phoenix to open her store, she said. She wanted to bring the passion she had for her culture infused in bridal to her old neighborhood and give future brides in the neighborhood a positive experience that comes from a place of understanding what they need.
Gonzales hopes someday she will be able to donate dresses to women who can’t afford one or work with a company that will buy dresses for those who need one. The process of purchasing a dress is often emotional, she said. Gonzales wants all her clients to feel relaxed and remember that she took care of them during a time that could be intense for some people while making sure they found the dress of their dreams.
Her family didn’t always have the means to take her to the mall or buy her a prom dress, but Gonzales feels thankful for what she gained instead.
“At first it felt like I lost an experience,” she said. “But after a while I realized, who can spend 10 hours a day next to their grandma and learn from them and have it become their trade?”
Megan Taros covers south Phoenix for The Arizona Republic. Have a tip? Reach her at mtaros@gannett.com or on Twitter @megataros. Her coverage is supported by Report for America and a grant from the Vitalyst Health Foundation.