Have you ever thought about how many people it takes to make a jacket?
I had never thought about it either, but I learned the answer this week: 34.
Not 34 people in the whole production process, but just 34 “machinists,” or women on sewing machines repeating the same detailed tasks over and over again. This number doesn’t include the people who check the quality of the fabric when it arrives at the factory. It also doesn’t account for the workers laying out the fabric in stacks, carefully lining up stripes correctly and making sure its flat. This number misses the people who cut the fabric into pieces, and those who number the pieces so that they come together properly to form a jacket. It also fails to account for the people who check the garments quality, who hang it up, who iron it, who put on tags.
So maybe I didn’t actually learn the answer, but I do know it’s more than 34. And not only do I know it takes 34 women working on sewing machines to make a jacket, but I’ve met many of the people who do the work and I’ve worked on the line with them.
This week Anna and I spent two days at a factory called TCI Apparel. On the first day we spent the morning chatting with Debbie, the head of human resources, and then received an extensive tour of the factory. Our tour guide—Semmi—took us through the whole process, from design all the way up through packaging. He would sometimes stop to introduce us to people along the way and by the time the tour finished I felt more comfortable in the factory than I expected. I also knew way more about the way my shirts are made than I ever expected to.
However, this comfort evaporated when he put us on the line for an hour. Our job was to hang up finished dresses, with sizes 16 and down needing a size 41 hanger and sizes 18 and up being a needing a size 45. Semmi specifically gave us a task that would be pretty hard to mess up, yet even this seemingly simple job had me on my toes. Did we need to organize the dresses by size once they were hung up? Where did we get a new rack once we had filled up the first one? Can I rip the new box of hangers open or should I go ask someone for scissors? Did the dresses and hangers all need to be facing a certain way? All day I had marveled at the women’s efficiency on sewing machines and there I was, awkward and slow at the easiest thing.
I am immensely grateful for this window into what—to be completely honest—felt like a step back in time or a step into another world. It was humbling to find my task difficult. I was touched by the pride of the man named Phillip who gave us a tour of the quality testing laboratory. The smiles and chatter of the women working on the line with me both entertained and warmed me.
It is easy (or at least has been for me) to lament the existence of sweat shops, but to buy clothing that was probably made in one. It is easy to take advantage of the fruits of capitalism without ever stopping to reconsider. It is easy to forget that each item of clothing we wear was probably made by at least 34 sets of hands. Unfortunately, it’s also hard as an individual to think that we can make a difference with our choices. Can choosing to research where my clothes are made and purchase with intention actually make a difference? Probably not. However, even as I acknowledge my lack of power I remain optimistic, and, if you ever get the chance to visit a clothing factory, I would highly, highly recommend.
