Collins Obeng Marnu, ‘Joojo/Paón’ on his journey into fashion, men in the industry, breaking into bridal, and honouring those who paved the way.

Background: I was first introduced to The House of Paón in May 2024 through my dear friend Adwoa and her mother, who is also a close friend of my grandmother. Adwoa’s cousin had just been married the month prior, and Paón had designed all of her gowns as well as the bridesmaids’ dresses. When I saw the detachable train Joojo created for her kente gown, I knew instantly, he was a visionary. Even better, his studio was just a short walk from my grandmother’s house, what a win to find such a modern designer so close by!

From that point forward, Joojo and his team crafted several custom pieces for me, including wedding guest outfits (pictured below) and the kaba and slit I wore for my pre-wedding shoot, which continues to receive compliments to this day.

Still, despite the trust I had built with him, I initially chose [redacted] for my kente gown after being drawn to one particular fully beaded gown. Like many brides, I could easily recount the stress of working with the wrong designer but instead I prefer to highlight the one who saved the day. Joojo, my knight with the shining measuring tape delivered beautifully when it mattered most.

*Beaded kaba and slit for my pre-wedding shoot*

*Custom boubou made for a traditional wedding*

*My kente gown for my traditional wedding designed by the House of Paón*

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

Full Name: Collins Obeng Marnu (Joojo)

Age:31

Business: The House of Paón

Based: Tantra Hill, Accra, Ghana

Q: How did you get into fashion?

I’ve been an artist my whole life. In high school, I studied visual art and in university, I specialised in textiles and fashion. Art has always been my foundation but I gravitated towards illustration. My close friends used to say, “These drawings need to come to life. They can’t stay stuck in your sketchbooks.” At the time I brushed it off, I loved drawing more than anything and honestly, sewing intimidated me. People don’t realise how tough it is; sewing is a mental game and I avoided it for the longest time.

One day, I went with a close friend, who was a model, to a runway rehearsal. I was tall and slim back then so people assumed I was a model too and asked me to join! I agreed but while we were rehearsing, I saw the designers come in with their clothes. The way they carried the garments, arranged them on the racks, it hit me right there: I wasn’t meant to be a model, I wanted to be the designer. I didn’t tell anyone but I vowed that within a year I’d have my first fashion show.

A mature student friend of mine helped me learn to sew, I’d make designs for her, and she’d teach me the basics. I bounced from shop to shop picking up how to make skirts, shirts, trousers and made plenty of mistakes along the way. Moving around so much meant I missed out on key skills like finishing. Looking back, it’s better to stay in one place and learn thoroughly. But I was determined. That was 2013, by 2014, I had my first fashion show.

Q:How did you come up with the name Paón?

When I was brainstorming brand names, I didn’t want to use Collins — no one can spell my surname Marnu right! I’ve always loved peacock feathers but ‘peacock’ felt too literal, so we started exploring other languages. The French translation, “Paón”, clicked, it gave “Dior”! It is short, elegant, only four letters and mysterious enough that people always ask about it.

I love the peacock because it’s elegant, colorful, and grandiose when it spreads its feathers. That’s how I see women, beautiful, radiant and fully seen. That’s the feeling I want every woman to have when wearing my designs.

Q: You mentioned studying art and illustration — how did your parents react when you chose fashion for a career?

Lol, it wasn’t easy. I was fixated on art but my dad wanted me to do business. His logic was: “If I’m taking care of you, you should do what I believe is best.” My mum didn’t go to university so she really wanted me to take a more conventional route – doctor, lawyer, something stable. Her main question was whether I could actually make money. My dad, though, was firm. As he’d lived in London for 18 years before moving back to Ghana I thought his worldview would be more open. Funny enough, it wasn’t! He wasn’t having it.

Q: Right now, the Ghanaian fashion houses seem to be dominated by the men – you have yourself , Kenneth Tetteh, [redacted], House of Oath? What drew you in as a man?

When I was starting out, women were at the forefront of Ghanaian fashion. Let me give them their flowers: Christie Brown, Duaba Serwa, April Rust, She By Bena, Mina Evans — these were the brands pushing boundaries. Even the platforms belonged to women. Glitz Africa, for example, had a magazine and would host fashion shows that would leave me in awe.

It was women who were the key innovators — Duaba Serwa pioneered kente beading and she deserves that recognition. The one male figure we all knew was Kofi Ansah, founder of the Federation of African Designers. He was a role model but when he passed in my final year of uni, it felt like a huge loss. Later I discovered Pistis, a husband and wife duo and they’ve done incredible work too.

Now, men dominate. There’s even a saying: when the opposite gender enters a field, things shift. Like cooking, people assume it’s for women, but when they hear of a male chef, they expect brilliance. Fashion feels similar. Women understand women’s bodies best, of course, but now more men are carving their space.

Personally, I was inspired by my mum. She was the first woman whose life I saw up close and my whole angle is about adoring and respecting women. Anyone who knows me knows I want women to feel good, especially brides because weddings are stressful and anxiety-inducing. For me, it’s not just about clothes, it’s about making women feel their very best.

Q: Why women’s clothing in particular? You also design menswear under Paón Men — including my husband’s wedding outfits! But why focus on women? Is it simply because it’s more lucrative?

Men’s fashion feels static. And yes, women’s fashion is more lucrative, but let’s be real, I didn’t start seeing money until seven years in.

With men, creativity is tricky. Push too far and it becomes “weird,” not marketable. Most men are fine with a simple shirt and trousers. But with women, even the simplest design can mix fabrics and spark creativity.

Historically, men actually had more fun — corsets, elaborate tailoring — but now it’s just shirt, trousers, or in Ghana, men can just “fra” their kente and they’re good to go. As a creative person, that doesn’t excite me. Honestly, I wouldn’t have disappointed my dad just to then spend my life making shirts and trousers!

Nowadays, I love seeing some men push boundaries, wearing things like palazzo trousers, or wearing styles that incorporate embroidery, bead work. That inspires me to keep an eye on menswear. But women’s wear gives me freedom.

*Second outfit magic — custom creations by Paón.*

*Groom’s after-party outfit by Paón Men. Paón also designed an after-party dress for me, but I ended up choosing another look after a little pre-wedding weight gain!*

Q:Over the last year alone, Ghanaian bridal fashion has changed so much — even the kente gown has evolved. I only just got married and yet every week I come across a new style I wish I’d seen earlier. From your perspective, what has driven this shift?

Luckily for me, I got to witness the real evolution of Ghana’s bridal scene. From my point of view, everything shifted after Covid. Before then, people kept it simple. My big sister got married around that time and looking back, her outfits were cute but basic and no one was stressed about it.

Back then, I hadn’t fully moved into bridal. I was dressing celebrities for red carpets, giving them edgy looks, Efya, Becca, and many more. At that time, there wasn’t much social media. When a celebrity wore your outfit, that’s how you got clients. On the red carpet, they’d say, “My dress is by The House of Paón, contact 020…” and people would call. These days, you don’t even need a celebrity, one influencer can change your whole life.

During Covid, I designed a gown for Joselyn Dumas to wear at the Golden Movie Awards and it went viral. Almost overnight, people from London were calling, asking for that exact dress and to my surprise, they weren’t even negotiating on price. Up until then, most of my celebrity work had been collaborations that served more as marketing than profit, since celebrities rarely paid full price. But when people were reaching out from abroad, eager to pay in full without hesitation, it hit me: weddings could be the real opportunity. Unlike other events, people are willing to invest in their wedding looks because it’s a once-in-a-lifetime moment. That realisation was the turning point when I decided to be intentional about moving into bridal.

I looked at who was leading the scene at the time and it was Pistis. They deserve their flowers because they changed how we imagined kente. Before them, it was mostly the kaba and slit styles our mothers wore. Then suddenly, corseted kente gowns. I had been experimenting with corsetry in leather and other fabrics, but I never thought kente could be used that way. Seeing it showed me my creativity wouldn’t be lost in bridal, so I made the decision – during Covid – that when it ended, this would be my lane.

And it worked. After lockdown, money tripled because people had been indoors for so long, they were ready to spend and invest in the comeback. At the same time, Ghana started drawing inspiration from Nigeria. Nigerians hype their weddings; they’re huge events. You could see a bridesmaid and mistake her for the bride! Ghana leaned into that and now we’re seeing cross-cultural weddings too, Ghanaians marrying Nigerians, bringing that fusion.

Today, I even get orders from Cameroonian and Congolese brides who want kente gowns. So many factors triggered the explosion of Ghanaian bridal fashion, but Covid was definitely the turning point.

*Dress for Ghanaian actress Joselyn Dumas*

Q:This has been a big conversation on TikTok and Instagram lately: whether cultural clothing should only be worn by people of that culture. For example, some Ghanaians feel kente should be reserved for us, while others (myself included) don’t take offense as long as Ghanaian designers are credited and compensated. Personally, I see it as part of fashion’s evolution — just as we once looked to Yoruba brides for inspiration, now all eyes are on kente, and next it might be Congolese beaded wax dresses. What’s your view on other cultures wearing kente?

I agree. Just two weeks ago, a bride (@ginab.xo on Instagram) wore kente for her first wedding dress — it was cute. But when I saw her Cameroonian outfit, I gasped. As a designer, I haven’t seen something that wowed me in a long time. Lately, the creative industry feels a bit stagnant; we’re all waiting for Pistis, Paón, or Sadia to do something new, and often we just follow each other, so everything starts to look the same.

Then I stumbled on this outfit by a Cameroonian designer, and I was blown away. It was beautiful and it inspired me. I’d love to create something for a Cameroonian bride — they reach out to me, and their fabrics, like mud cloth, are stunning too. At the end of the day, I’m a pan-Africanist. There’s beauty in celebrating everyone, in fusing styles, mixing elements, taking bits, leaving bits, that’s what creativity is about. I’m not offended by it at all; this is the way the world works now.

Look at us right now: you’re in the UK, I’m in Ghana, and in just a few seconds, we’re having this amazing conversation, connecting across continents, the world is a global village. I’m planning to message that designer to tell him he “did the damn thing!” I’ve been uninspired for the last six months and that dress stopped me in my tracks. It wasn’t just the dress, it was how it was styled. High-fashion, editorial, and utterly inspiring.

Q: We’ve talked about the rise of kente gowns, corsetry, and beadwork — what do you see as the next big trend in bridal? And honestly, do you think corsets are here to stay, because we’re tired!

The corset isn’t going anywhere! Sure, the evolution might include zippers just to cover the corset but corsets have been around for ages. As a student of fashion, I loved studying how Vivienne Westwood and other designers used corsets and I even used to corset my own clothes.

What might happen now is that brides will have more options: maybe choosing a corset for their first kente gown, then switching to zippers or looser dresses as the day goes on. Designers love the female form and corsetry celebrates it. Once it hit the bridal scene, everything changed.

In terms of forecasting the next big thing? Honestly, I don’t know. As a designer right now, I feel like we’ve hit a bit of a wall. There’s a saying “we’re just roasting someone else’s tacos” and it feels like we’re all recooking what’s already out there and serving it again! Personally, I think we’re in a moment of pause, waiting for the next breakthrough.

*My bridal gown designed by Paón (with a corset in the back!)*

Q:What do you think about people mixing up what they wear for the traditional wedding?

I think the elements of a traditional wedding — the attire, the customs, the rituals — should remain unchanged because that’s what identifies them as traditional. Does that make sense?

Personally, I’m not a fan of white gowns; they just aren’t African. There’s nothing about them that connects to our culture. To me, the true wedding that really brings people together is the traditional marriage, everything else is just a bonus. White weddings are cute, but culture and tradition exist for a reason, and we should never lose that. We need to make it clear: this is Ghanaian, this is Cameroonian, this is Nigerian — we have to uphold it.

Even I have to admit, early in my career, I didn’t work with African fabrics. For some reason, I thought I had to go to Paris; I thought our fabrics were cheap. I’m so ashamed I ever thought that. Back then, I was obsessed with the Western world, watching E! News and Fashion Police with Joan Rivers, and I wanted that lifestyle. My very first fashion show had no African prints at all, it was all Western fabrics.

Later, I designed a ready-to-wear collection named after my late mother, Theresa, where I went back to use her fabrics, her old cloth. I’m so glad I did that before she passed, because it allowed me to honour her. Over time, I started working with Ankara, wax, and Northern fabrics — fabrics that are not only beautiful but so rich in culture. I would have truly missed out if I hadn’t embraced my roots. Our culture should never be abandoned.

Now it’s funny to see big European brands using our fabrics; they would never discard their culture, and neither should we. I’m so happy to see this change. Today, even non-Ghanaians want to be invited to a Ghanaian wedding just to wear kente and honestly, that’s amazing.

*Designs from Paón’s first fashion show*

Q:I didn’t have a white wedding but I know you make white gowns. I’m curious, why do Ghanaians and West Africans in general, prefer custom-made dresses? Couldn’t we just pick something off the rack like elsewhere, and are there even wedding dress boutiques in Accra?

Before Covid, the bridal scene was very different, there was little momentum. I recall meeting a Lebanese businesswoman who wanted my opinion on her idea: sourcing wedding dresses from Turkey, Lebanon, and India to sell locally, and figuring out which styles would work. There used to be a shop in Osu, but not much else. It’s a business that needs serious capital – buying, say, 30 gowns and hoping people will buy them is risky. You really have to trust your consumer.

Most of these boutiques weren’t really for the average Ghanaian; they were geared towards expats. Often, our mothers were trained seamstresses and could make something beautiful and affordable themselves. There was also a market for second-hand wedding gowns, which helped dresses move off the rack faster.

I remember my sister’s wedding, her dress was simple, pretty, and traditional. I personally resonate with ethereal gowns, and I always advise my brides to keep it clean, white, and understated. But some of the gowns I see today! My goodness, we are overdoing it. Social media fuels it too; with so many eyes watching, people feel pressure to go all out.

Q: Congratulations on your recent show! I’d love to talk about ready-to-wear in Ghana. At my wedding, so many guests wore custom kente and ntama dresses, which was incredible to see. But it made me wonder, what happens when someone doesn’t have the time for fittings and all the back-and-forth? Couldn’t kente or ntama be made available in standard sizes, or is it simply that we, as Ghanaians, prefer the uniqueness of one-of-a-kind pieces?

Thank you! Firstly, some things just can’t be ready-to-wear, even I had to accept that as a designer. Take a size 8 and a size 18 dress: for the 18 to fit and look good, I’d probably need a corset in the back. And let’s be real, black women’s bodies are wonderfully complex. A woman might be a size 12 at the top and 18 at the bottom, or vice versa. I work with women every day, so I know.

Even big names like Christie Brown have mastered ready-to-wear, I adore them. They mix fabrics (my first love!) and have created edgy pieces like cropped tops, skirts, and pockets. I’d love to do the same, but to pull it off, you really need a global brand. Ready-to-wear often ends up pricing out most Ghanaians.

The reality is that for many shapely women, even ready-to-wear styles need careful measuring radius, circumference, diameter unless the fabric is stretchy or it’s something like a boubou. While working on my ready-to-wear line, I realised it has to be truly easy, otherwise it has to be made-to-order. People also need to understand that “ready-to-wear” doesn’t always mean “fits perfectly off the rack.” Black bodies are beautifully diverse. Size 18 or size 10, everyone deserves to see themselves in a dress. All sizes should be celebrated.

Q:What’s your top advice for someone starting out in the wedding business, even though it might feel oversaturated right now?

The sky is big enough for everyone – cliché, but true. Like discovering new musicians, it’s about timing and alignment. When my moment came, everything I’d learned clicked.

During Covid, I taught myself corsetry and made my first kente gown via YouTube. The first attempt was a mess, but I kept going until I got it right. You have to work on your craft and let what inspires you push you further.

A friend asked if I get jealous of other designers, I don’t. I study them to learn. Moving into bridal, I closely watched Pistis for their corsetry, detailing and professionalism. One day, my stylist friend brought home a Pistis kente gown, I inspected every detail and it was a masterclass.

My advice: be open to learning. If this is your craft, your timing will come. What’s real cannot be threatened.

Q: How has it been growing your team?

Growing a team is one of the hardest parts of any business. I’ve lost people, gained people, lost again, it’s a rollercoaster. Sewing alone is tough, managing clients is tough, and then adding staff into the mix? That’s a whole other challenge.

For seven years, I did everything myself – running into town, cutting, consultations, fittings. I was a walking machine, and it started taking a toll on my health. It was my stylist friend who pulled me aside and said, “Look at the designers you admire: Pistis, Christie Brown, She By Bena, they all have teams. You can’t compete alone.”

So I started with one worker and over time, I’ve been able to build my team. But it’s still one of the hardest battles in business. Staff can truly make or break a brand.

Final Question: Are there any Ghanaian wedding businesses or designers you’d like to give a shout-out to?

I always like to give flowers to those who came before me, the ones who paved the way.

Pistis Ghana — they’ve done the work and truly deserve everything they’ve achieved. It’s not an easy job and they were doing it all before I even had one worker.

Duaba Serwa — I’ve never met her, but I hope she knows who I am! She started beading kente and brought it to the forefront in Ghana. Today, it’s hard to find anyone not incorporating beading in their kente designs.

Christie Brown — they’ve given hope to ready-to-wear and championed African prints, wax and indigenous techniques in such modern, fresh ways. I have so much respect for them.

Among my peers, Sadia is meticulous and thoughtful with her work and her craftsmanship is remarkable. Reve.GH (honestly might as well be the son of Pistis!) creates elegant and timeless pieces; when I was growing, his work inspired me because he made simple designs look heavenly.

And for my kente plugs, Afya’s Kloset and Kente Kiosk, they’re my go-to, always!

This was a great conversation, thank you so much for speaking with me!

Thank YOU!

Made in Ghana: The House of Paón

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