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CHICAGO
— The
$5,000
chinchilla cowboy hats and
$1,500
baby-alligator boots, now gathering dust, tell a story
of good times gone bad.
In the
best days, many Mexicans from small towns grabbed their
slice of the American dream not with sports cars but
with high-priced Western wear that were upgrades from
the tattered clothes they grew up in.
But now
an economy in which Mexican immigrants could easily earn
good money, with or without legal work visas, is being
transformed because of the implosion of industries such
as construction and tougher immigration enforcement.
The
clothing retailers that rode this boom are teetering
because their Mexican clients are out of work or afraid
of being deported.
The Tony
Lama boots are being sold at a loss, marked half off,
while polyester coats are selling better than the
high-end suede versions.
This
fancy garb always held deep meaning for Mexican
newcomers, said
Rich Alcala
, president of the venerable Alcala's Western Wear on
West Chicago Avenue
in
Chicago
.
The
immigrants often grew up among the horses and
cornfields, so the ranch wear is functional, not a
costume, he said. Even when traversing
Chicago's
urban and suburban environments, their clothes were a
taste of home.
"Many
people in
Mexico
aren't going to be able to afford a nice Stetson
hat," Alcala said. "So when they get here, get
settled, get a job, they want to get rid of those crappy
boots and get themselves the best they can afford.
"It's
a sign of status, that they've made it."
During a
building boom fueled by easy loans and low interest
rates, many Mexicans found construction jobs at every
turn, often landing overtime pay. After a share of the
paychecks had gone to
Mexico
, many would unwind by donning their best Western
clothing to dance in sprawling banquet halls.
Raudel Sanchez
worked 20 years in meatpacking before he opened his
first Western store in Back of the Yards in 1985. He got
in just as the boom times were starting and eventually
expanded his operations to
Cicero
and
Aurora, Ill.
Sanchez
said the money was flowing so freely that his store
would cash paychecks from construction workers. He'd pay
out
$1,000
in cash, a quarter of which often would go right back
into belts, dress shirts and the like. The four-figure
hats would be bought on layaway or a handshake.
During
the holidays, those workers would buy
$200
hats by the half-dozen for relatives in
Mexico
, he said.
Of
course, many of these paychecks were earned by illegal
immigrants who had no official right to work here. For
many critics of lax immigration policy, the end of their
livelihoods is a welcome development.
Last
year, the Pew Hispanic Center reported that the
unemployment rate for Latin American immigrants in the
U.S. is growing at a faster rate than in the general
population.
That
means less disposable income: Money sent back to
Mexico
from the U.S. in October plummeted 35 percent from the
previous year, the largest drop on record, according to
Mexico's
Central Bank
.
A recent
report from the
Migration Policy Institute
said that at the height of homebuilding over the last
decade, about 13 percent of immigrants worked in
construction, compared with 7 percent of U.S.-born
workers. The collapse of that sector is the main
contributor to the general economic insecurity among
Mexican immigrants, according to merchants and analysts.
Israel Godinez
, for example, typically used to buy at least one new
hat every year around Christmas. This year, he can only
browse.
"I
see a lot that interests me, but I can't do it,"
said Godinez, 30, a roofer from
Berwyn, Ill.
Sanchez
has taken his line of
$1,500
Lucchese boots off the shelves. There's no chance they
will sell now, he said, although he used to move about
one pair a month. Sanchez said he sells other boots,
including exotic ostrich or iguana varieties, at a loss
to get customers in the door. He sells about one pair of
Tony Lamas
a week, compared with at least a dozen in the peak
years.
"Only
the cheap things are selling," Sanchez said.
"But we don't want things too cheap because it
cheapens our prestige that is based on quality."
Sanchez
has pared staff and is considering renting out an
upstairs apartment he uses for his dwindling stock.
Alcala,
meanwhile, recently added a rack of
$50
polyester jackets.
"If
I didn't have that rack, I'd really be in trouble,"
he said.
Rick la Porte
, a sales representative for 30 years for Stetson and
other high-end hats, said the
Chicago
-area stores that rely on Mexican customers have
suffered the most. Those that diversify their client
base, perhaps by attracting women, can survive, he said.
Enrique Mendoza
, the hat expert at Alcala's, handled a tattered black
cowboy hat that a client had brought in for a
$25
touch-up, more feasible than a
$300
replacement.
"These
guys, they always want the best," Mendoza said.
"But the money can't go for hats right now. It's
going for rent and for food."
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