The first thing that hit me about Portugal? The streets. Narrow, cobblestoned, and full of attitude. The kind that makes you regret packing anything with a heel. The buildings were covered in these beautiful hand-painted tiles, and the whole city smelled like sangria and pastries by day, then leather and espresso by night. It’s one of those places that forces you to slow down, even if you came for work—which I did. I was there to see what makes Portugal one of the biggest hidden gems in the global footwear industry. Spoiler: It’s the quiet confidence of people who know exactly what they’re doing.
The trip was hosted by APICCAPS, which is basically the Avengers of Portugal’s shoe and accessory industry. If you’ve ever seen “Made in Portugal” stamped inside your shoes, they probably had a hand in it. Portugal’s footwear is sold in 170 countries, 90% of it exported—and in 2024 alone, they shipped over 90 million euros worth of shoes to the U.S. That’s a 109% growth over the last decade. In short, Portugal’s not new to this, they’re true to this.
The first few days were all about factory visits. At AMF, sparks were literally flying—metal, rubber, stitching, and sweat. They specialize in heavy-duty workwear shoes, the kind meant for long shifts and real labor. But here’s the twist: those same designs have inspired runway looks from Heron Preston, to Telfar, and A-Cold-Wall. That crossover between utility and fashion is what makes AMF so special. It’s proof that style doesn’t always start in Paris, it can start in a warehouse in Porto.
Then there was Lemon Jelly, which was a total vibe shift. Bright, playful, and sustainable. Think candy-colored rain boots that are vegan, recyclable, and made in a factory that smells like glue. Their designs have that same fun energy as Melissa or Crocs, but with a little extra polish. It’s sustainability, made fashion.
And then came Carité, the quiet luxury powerhouse. I can’t say much (embargoes are real), but let’s just say you probably already own something they made. Watching their artisans at work, cutting, 3D printing, stitching, and polishing was mesmerizing. Every movement was so precise. It made me realize luxury isn’t about logos. It’s about care.
We wrapped up the factory circuit at the Footwear Technological Centre (CTCP), which felt like walking into a footwear science lab. Machines bent shoes thousands of times to test creasing. Others pulled on laces until they snapped. It was oddly satisfying. This is where the production value becomes a guarantee, not just a marketing slogan.
By midweek, it was time to swap hard hats for front-row seats at Lisbon Fashion Week. The energy flipped completely. Suddenly it was music, flashbulbs, and runway chaos (the best kind). And wild enough, some of the same shoes we saw being made in Porto were now walking the runway in Lisbon. The Portugal shoes collective, APICAPS even had their very own showcase as well. Full-circle moment.
My favorite designer of the week? Hands down Roselyn Silva. She’s Portugal’s first Afro-European luxury womenswear designer, originally from São Tomé and Príncipe, and she’s a star. Roselyn moved to Lisbon when she was four, and her collections carry both worlds in them: those bold, tropical colors from her island roots mixed with the clean lines and structure from her Lisbon Design School training. Her clothes moved me, literally and emotionally. Feeling her garments, and listening to her speak about her passion felt like culture and craftsmanship holding hands.
Our hosts, Paulo Gonçalves and Cláudia Pinto from APICCAPS, were the real ones holding it all together. Between factory tours and fashion shows, they connected every dot, history, innovation, good food, and people. The whole week was a reminder that good people and good art make the world go ‘round.
By the end of it all, I couldn’t stop thinking about everything that goes into a single pair of shoes—the design, the testing, the artistry, the story. Portugal manages to blend tradition and technology, sustainability and soul. It’s the kind of craftsmanship that doesn’t need hype. You just feel it.
On my last night in Lisbon, I took one more walk through the city. The tiles were glowing under the streetlights, the air was warm, and my shoes clicked against the cobblestones, and for the first time all week, I wasn’t thinking about production or export stats. I was just thinking about how sometimes to truly understand the art of something this spectacular, you have to be there to bear witness.I’ll never call a shoe, “just a shoe” again.