Out of collapse came renewal.

When their family’s couture shop went under during the pandemic, brothers Gab and Migs Amante turned to making face masks under Third World Project (TWP). What started as an act of survival has since evolved into something more enduring: a design language rooted in technical craft and a deliberate rejection of throwaway culture.

That same story of rebirth defines A Second Life. Using discarded garments and fabric offcuts, the collection returns to the brand’s beginnings, creating utilitarian bags that give new form to what once seemed spent.

In a world obsessed with novelty, A Second Life makes a case for continuity. It extends TWP’s founding ethos into a shared vision with auster, that is, to make meaning out of what remains and to create pieces that last.

Roots and revival

Before Gab and Migs were designing satchels from thrifted windbreakers, they grew up around gowns and suits in a couture shop in Quezon City.

Gab, the older of the two brothers, shares that their dad’s business had been around long before he was born. The couture shop was only established in the early ‘90s, but its origins went much further back. Gab, the older of the two brothers, studied nursing but having grown up in a creative household, he had always been drawn to the art. Migs, who took up fashion design, puts it simply, “Pretty much our whole lives, we grew up in a creative environment.”

The brothers had been running the family shop, until the pandemic forced them to find another way forward.

“For two years straight, there were no events. I don't see any other way we could have survived that. We had staff to pay, rent to cover,” Gab says.

To stay afloat, they made PPEs and face masks. That practical decision opened the door to something they’d long wanted to pursue. With necessity came a sense of clarity. The brothers officially started the Third World Project, turning the end of the family business into a new beginning.

“It’s more of what resonates to us both. We also enjoyed doing formal wear but after some reflection, it’s not what really resonates with us. It’s this, Third World Project,” Migs says.

Gab adds, “This has always been in the back of our minds ever since 2010. This has always been the stuff we wanted to create, the face mask just happened because of the pandemic.”

TWP has grown beyond face masks into a full range of utilitarian pieces, from bags to technical apparel. Each item is thoughtfully crafted, often from upcycled fabrics and factory overruns sourced by the brothers themselves. In their hands, discarded materials are reimagined into something purposeful. A quiet resistance to the industry’s obsession with speed and excess.

The philosophy of counterculture

In a landscape dominated by fast fashion and Western trends, TWP charts its own path. Their collections, technical cargo pants, noragi jackets, modular bags, aren’t tied to the season. Instead, they return to the same silhouettes and simply improve them, refining cut, function, and fabric each time.

“Before we really started this brand, we asked ourselves why we should exist,’” Gab says. “Everyone’s doing graphic T-shirts, hypebeast type of brands. We wanted to push slow fashion, pieces of high value that would last for a while.”

It’s their form of protest against a culture that’s constantly enamored with the new. Migs calls it their form of counterculture: “In the local scene, most brands focus on graphic tees. Our way of being counterculture is going heavy on the technical side, not just graphics.”

“Every time we do drops, we have a business model where we just improve our previous designs. The next release is just going to be the same pants, the same kimono, but with improvements. So, this is the counterculture the brand stands for.” (Gab)

The same ethos of thoughtful iteration guides their material sourcing. The brothers still thrift fabrics themselves, hunting for discarded windbreakers, vintage coats, and factory overruns that carry unique textures. For their upcycled line, they let the fabric lead, shaping each design around the high-quality pieces they bring home from thrift shops.

“The material is a huge factor for our upcycled pieces. For example, we might find a windbreaker with great fabric but a stain or damage on one side. Even so, we use the parts that are still valuable,” Migs explains.

This reflects the Filipino concept of sayang, a recognition of wasted potential. Even items with damage in thrift stores often have quality material that is impossible to find from local suppliers.

“People see the damage and think it has no value. But for us, who are familiar with sourcing materials, we know that a jacket is of high value because of the fabric. That’s one of the main reasons why we started upcycling. Because you know, sayang,” Gab says.

This mindful approach goes beyond aesthetics. Fashion is one of the world’s largest polluters and TWP aims to make a different kind of impact. By repurposing materials that others discard into new pieces, the brand emphasizes the importance of valuing clothing and making it with care.

The people behind the craft

If there’s one thing that connects the old couture shop to the new Third World Project, it’s respect for craftsmanship. Many of their sewers have been with them for over a decade, bridging two generations of makers.

Their advocacy extends beyond sustainability to include restoring dignity to the people behind the work. “We want to uphold the craft of sewing. It takes a lot of skill to sew, ” Gab adds. “Barbers became cool again, shoemakers too. The mananahi (sewer) also needs a rebirth.”

Running a small studio also means blurred lines between business and family. “We’re very tight-knit. The sewers are like extended family,” Gab shares. “In a good way and a bad way,” he laughs. “Since we’re not a big company, we also don’t have HR. So we’re very much involved. It’s challenging.”

Beyond their own studio, TWP has become a way for the brothers to become more immersed in Quezon City’s growing creative scene. Gab and Migs has since connected with artists, studios, and brands such as the Sampaguita Projects, Dex Fernandez of Garapata, and DBTK, whose founders were their childhood friends. For them, TWP opened a whole new world of makers and creatives who share their commitment to thoughtful, skill-driven work.

A second life for everything

The brothers’ design philosophy found a perfect metaphor in their recent collaboration with auster, A Second Life, a line of upcycled bags built from discarded IKEA totes, trench coats, and puffer jackets. Each piece bears traces of its previous lives.

“Even though each design has ten pieces, they’re never exactly the same,” says Migs.

For Migs, who drew inspiration from the internet, movies, TV, and video games growing up, the phrase “second life” comes from gaming. “It’s when your first life ends but you still have a mission left,” he explains.

For Gab, it’s more contemplative, “It’s a cool name, but it makes people think. Everything deserves a second life. These things in thrift shops… as long as something exists, it deserves a second look.”

In that way, the collaboration becomes both literal and symbolic, a continuation of their practice of transformation, and a meditation on resilience. “It doesn’t end. As long as you’re alive, there’s still a second life.” (Gab)

Adapt, evolve, reimagine

Today, sustainable fashion in the Philippines is gaining traction, and Gab is glad to see it, “When we started, there weren’t many brands doing upcycling. Now, everyone's doing it. So I feel hopeful. It's a natural reaction to the information that designers are processing. As designers, we get informed that fashion is polluting the planet. So it's, it's a natural reaction.”

The next step is evolution, as their brand ethos goes “Adapt, Evolve, Reimagine.” They want to reimagine Filipino staples such as barongs, tsinelas, the things that have stood the test of time and rebuild them with the same slow fashion mindset.

Through collections like A Second Life, TWP continues to prove that fashion can be intentional and rooted in craft and community. This collaboration with auster brings our shared vision into tangible form, making the most of what already exists. In giving new life to what might otherwise be forgotten, TWP reminds us that fashion doesn’t have to follow the cycle of consumption. It can adapt, evolve, and reimagine, honoring both materials and the hands that shape them.

Banner image courtesy of Third World Project

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In a world obsessed with novelty, A Second Life makes a case for continuity.

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