Transparent Pricing: Snow White Chemise

When it came to pricing the Madame Tây pieces, offering a fair and affordable price was really important to us.  So often ethically produced goods are priced so high that only a small privileged strata of society are able to access them. For us, an ethical clothing project meant not only having an ethical production process where our tailors are being paid a fair wage, but also offering a fair price for our consumers at the other end. 

I am strongly convinced that there is a  place for something like Madame Tây - we want to create the pieces that you want to buy because they are beautiful and can buy because they are affordable, but are simultaneously assured that each piece is ethically produced. And so Madame Tây has served as an experiment of sorts - because something like Madame Tây can only work in the long run if it is sustainable and it can only be sustainable if it is financially viable.  

And here lies the balance that we are trying to find - determining a selling price for our clothes which is on the one hand fair and affordable for consumers and on the other hand financially viable for Madame Tây.

Inspired by the concept of radical transparency advocated by Everlane, we decided to break-down and show you our production costs so that when you buy the Snow White Chemise you know exactly how much it cost to make and where that money went. We have questioned whether this is the right thing to do - after all would people still want to buy a shirt at $40 if they knew that the raw production cost of the shirt is less than $15? In the end, we decided to do this for two reasons. Firstly, we constantly emphasise that we are more interested in the process than the final product. Throughout the project we have been keenly aware that there are many things which we could (and should) do better - one example is using more sustainable and ethical fabrics. The whole project has been an important process of learning - and we believe that by seeking out, documenting and sharing that information - we (and maybe even others) can learn from it and improve our work in the future. Secondly the issue of transparency lies very close to me - afterall I work for an organisation called Transparency International in Vietnam. Everyday I operate on the premise that transparency is critical - because knowledge is transformative whether it be in the struggle against corruption or in building a safer clothing and garment industry.

For the Snow White Chemise you see that there is a mark-up of 2.7 times the cost of production. What is important to keep in mind is that this is the raw production cost associated with producing this item. What the $14.75 does not include is all the time Sarah, Cara, Christina and I have poured into sampling clothes; sourcing fabrics, buttons and zips; bi-weekly visits to the tailors to oversee production and quality; testing out sizing; ironing and tagging each piece individually. And those were a lot of hours - let me tell you! It also doesn't include any of the costs of bringing the clothes to you - designing and building our website or the cost of market stall (not to mention the hours spent staffing the stall). It doesn't cover the invaluable contributions of many friends and family who volunteered  their time, bodies and skills to build and host our website (thanks Matt!), photograph our clothes (thanks Lisa), model and test sample sizing, help with make-up, provide production and financial advice, the list goes on and on. To be completely honest, if we were to factor in and cost all this time, the first production lot of Madame Tây is not financially viable - not by a long shot. But this first production lot is small - only around 175 pieces in total and as we emphasise time and time again, we have learnt so much though the process. If we were to do this again at a slightly larger scale - say double or triple the production size, now that we have found trusted tailors, a better understanding and eye for fabrics (and also leads on where to source more sustainable fabrics) and a website created, I see that Madame Tây has the potentially to become self-sustaining in the future.     

West African Textiles: Indigo

Malian Woman Producing Indigo in the
Dogon Country

Beginning this project in Ghana, where African-produced wax print is ubiquitous, I thought sourcing locally made textiles would be as simple when I arrived in Senegal. Once I started visiting markets and speaking with textile importers, I quickly realised it would be much more difficult to find textiles for Madame Tây that had been produced in Senegal, if not impossible.

As we were developing this project, we realised we had the unique opportunity to be able to explain how our garments were produced. For us, ethical production starts with the materials used to create a garment, but as Steph remarks in her earlier posts about the cotton industry (All About Cotton - Part I and Part II), the production processes involved in creating the fabric we purchased are completely closed off to us.

Working in West Africa, where most young people prefer buying mass-manufactured clothes imported from China, or second hand clothes imported from all over the world,  this was particularly poignant for me as I hoped that Madame Tây would not only be able to support Senegalese artisans, but also the local textile industry. When I realised that there was no local textile industry in Senegal (You can read more about  the wax print used to create Madame Tây garments here), I started looking further abroad.

Know Your Wax

Wax Prints at a store in Tamale, Ghana

When purchasing wax print fabric here in Dakar it can be hard to really know where the fabric you find in the big markets comes from and who was responsible for its design and its production. Often the fabric sellers won’t be too sure themselves, and some prefer to feign ignorance when the wax they sell is foreign, out of worry their customers won’t pay a decent price if they know the fabric is made in India or China. Adding to this, most people I’ve spoken to here just don’t know where the wax they wear comes from - in the same way that I couldn’t tell you where my Cue shirt was produced, or where the cotton used to make it was grown and manufactured.

Whilst I can’t tell you where the cotton for every wax print I bought came from, I want to share with you what I’ve learnt since being here in Senegal about the different wax prints that are available and particularly those that are used in Madame Tây garments. Most of this information I learnt from talking informally with a few Senegalese textile industry professionals who import textiles into Senegal. For a country whose second main export is cotton, there is an incredible amount of importation of textiles – mainly from Asian countries. This is due to the lack of processing plants in Senegal to turn the cotton they grow into thread or fabric. When I’ve asked any of the Senegalese designers or tailors I’ve met here why such processing factories don’t exist, they have all thrown up their hands in exasperation and been unable to answer! 

When you purchase a Madame Tây piece from Senegal, please don’t hesitate to ask us for more information about the fabric – we’ll be happy to share with you what we know!

Read more after the jump

Nga - the Button Seller

Street life is ubiquitous in Hanoi. In the heart of the city, the old quarter is made up of 36 streets, each specialising in a particular craft. When it came to buying buttons and zips – there was only one place to go – button street on Hang Bo.  It was here that I met Nga, who owns a small button stall on the pavement outside 15 Hang Bo with her older sister Hoi. In Nga and Hoi’s small stall, I found the oyster shell buttons used on the Snow-White chemise, the gold exposed zips for the Paintbrush pencil skirt and the concealed zips for the Paintbrush dress.

Nga’s family comes from the village of Lang Co Dien around 10km outside of Hanoi, where for decades all the men in the village have traditionally sold glasses and the women have sold buttons. Her parents left their village in the 1950’s for the capital of Hanoi where economic conditions were better. In Hanoi, they continued their traditional crafts of selling glasses and buttons. Growing up, Nga and her sisters would help their mother to sell buttons, continuing even after Nga got a job in a state owned factory in her early twenties. After she got married and had children she left her job in the factory and started selling buttons full time, because she found that it gave her more flexibility to look after her young family. She started her own stall on Hang Bo at the age of 27 years old. Back then she was one of only a handful of other women selling buttons on the street – these women would help to transform Hang Bo, which was traditionally the place to sell bamboo baskets, into button street.

Today Hang Bo is jammed full for two or three blocks with button shops or people like Nga who set up temporary stalls along the pavement. Unlike the past, where Nga would sell small handfuls of buttons to individuals and tailors to make one or two pieces of clothing, many of Nga’s sales are now made to wholesale factories and tailors who buy buttons in bulk. After her husband was injured in the war, Nga’s button stall has helped her to become the breadwinner in her family.

However, for Nga the police have become a daily part of life. Despite the city’s bustling street life, a 2008 ban on street vendors has rendered the pavement side sellers, which so many people immediately associate with Hanoi, as illegal. When the police turn up she stashes her boxes of buttons and runs away, but from time to time when there is major crackdown on street vendors her goods will be confiscated by the police and she will need to pay a fine upwards of one million dong (AUD 50) for their return. When I ask why she doesn’t set up a formal shop to sell her goods, Nga responds that it is not financially practical to rent such a shop. Her button stall remains a largely family affair and Nga and her sister are regularly joined by Nga’s son and niece who help to sell buttons.

You can find Nga everyday from 7:30am to 7pm outside 15 Hang Bo. 

West Africa Production - Phase Three: Garment Production

After our first samples had been tested, we set to work making the needed changes – the blazers were too long, the t-shirt were too wide, the shorts were a bit too tight and the skirts needed a few extra details. The whole process was pretty difficult for me, as someone who has never worked in patternmaking or design but who has specific ideas about what the final product should look like. Luckily, our tailor Diogo was super patient and really great at showing me his methods of cutting fabric and explaining techniques like darting which really helped me understand what changes we needed to make for our final run of garments.

Diogo in his atelier in Marche Santhiaba, Saint-Louis, Senegal

Once Diogo and I had decided on the final changes to make to the four different pieces we are producing, he set about the production – which included transferring patterns, cutting and finally sewing over 130 metres of fabric! Needless to say, it was a look of work, so Diogo called in his friend Atou (pictured below) and they worked together to complete about 75 pieces (plus a few extra surprises!) for Madame Tay’s first range of garments.

Atou (l) and Diogo (r) getting to work, Saint-Louis, Senegal

Atou and his machine, Saint-Louis, Senegal

Diogo has an atelier in Marche Santhiaba, the big textile market in Saint-Louis, in Northern Senegal. The market is buzzing from 6am to 11pm with the sounds of sewing machines and scissors slicing through fabric. Diogo’s atelier looks onto a long, covered passageway where apprentice tailors spend hours each day looping string to make fancy embroidery for dresses and shirts -  which are both really popular in Senegal for events and celebrations.

Detail of Diogo's atelier - superman, mannequins and posters of Senegalese religious leaders

Marche Santhiaba

The last part of the production was completed in Dakar, at Diogo’s family house in a suburb called Parcelles. We set up a temporary atelier with a borrowed table, a borrowed sewing machine and goats constantly sticking their heads through the window as Diogo worked.

Diogo's temporary atelier in Parcelles, Dakar

Madame Tay garments ready to be sewn!

Diogo cutting out some Madame Tay high waisted shorts.

Diogo and some neighbourhood goats.

Partner Profile: Lan Anh, Vietnam

Meet Lan Anh – our tailor of the Peekaboo Dress and the Navy and the Snow-White Chemise. She has been tailoring clothes for more than 30 years, when her mother taught her to sew at the age of 15. After she finished school she studied with a friend’s mother who was a tailor and taught her to cut patterns. When she got married when she was 25 years old she left home and started her own tailoring business. On average, she estimates that she will make around 35 pieces of clothes each week and employs two staff to help her sew. I love working with Lan Anh because she has amazing attention to detail – all her pieces are beautifully crafted and that is why we have chosen to work with her on the Peekaboo Dress and the chemise – the simple classic pieces where the small details really count.

Visit Lan Anh on Lane 210 Doi Can, Hanoi.  

Ladies Brunch and Clothes Fitting

After getting each piece tailored in a range of sizes, I invited a bunch of girls over and threw a ladies brunch + clothes fitting party! I had also recently gotten a new breadmaker, so it was also a chance to practice my breadmaking skills. We tested out each size on a number of girls of different heights and curves to test the sizing and cuts and make adjustments before going forward on producing bulk orders in each size. I also tested a few finishing options to see which buttons, zips and linings people preferred. The navy chemise, for example, originally came with three options for buttons - a classic white pearl button, a small marble button and a funky square yellow button. In the end almost everyone unanimously voted for the white pearl button!

West Africa Production - Phase Two: Samples

After doing preliminary design with Martha in Ghana, the next step was starting production in Senegal with our tailor, Diogomaye. On a Saturday afternoon I was invited over to Diogo’s family’s house in Parcelles – the Northern suburbs of Dakar, right next to the beach – super beautiful!

Diogo and I going over measurements

The first step was going over the first designs with Diogo, and seeing how these could be translated to the fabric we had purchased at Sandaga earlier in the week with Diogo’s cousin and Aunty. After reworking a few of the measurements, Diogo got to work in his atelier to produce the first lot of samples we would use to finalise the pieces we’d make for Madame Tay’s first production lot.

Diogo hard at work on our first pieces

Cutting table

Diogo at work at his atelier

After Diogo had completed 15 samples, I gathered a few of my friends to have a casual clothes fitting to see how the pieces worked and if we needed to do any adjustments. The clothes fitting turned into an impromptu photoshoot, here are a few shots:

It was really useful to see what the pieces looked like on a range of different sized women, and made me realise just how difficult correct sizing and fit could be. My friends were really helpful, and made plenty of suggestions to Diogo and me as to what should be changed. After taking lots of notes, and working out what pieces needed some work, Diogo and I set to making a few more samples, just to make sure we were on the right track.

West Africa Production - Phase One: Design with Martha

When we first decided to start the Madame Tây project we were pretty excited, but also pretty nervous. How were we, four passionate but far from professional fashion aficionados going to design and produce our own range of clothes? Luckily, we have had a bunch of talented and creative friends backing us through the entire process. In West Africa, this includes a team of people spanning the whole region!

Martha hard at work at her machine, with a pile of wax print waiting for her from her many, many customers!

Our design processed started in Tamale – the capital of the Northern Region of Ghana. I had been living here for a year prior to moving to Senegal, and in that time had developed a special friendship with Martha, the ‘best tailor in all of Ghana’ (according to Martha’s brother Henry, that is).

Martha with her two apprentices, Vida and Olivia

Martha was very supportive of the idea behind Madame Tây, and played a crucial role in the initial design stages. Together, we planned, drew and designed the pieces to be produced in Senegal. Without her keen eye for contemporary fashion, and her intimate knowledge of the intricacies of garment production and working with wax print, it would have been impossible to produce our made-in-West-Africa pieces. 

Initial Designs with Martha at her atelier

This was a super interesting process, as a lot of the ideas we initially had wouldn't work for a range of reasons. Working strictly with wax print can be limiting -- it is quite stiff and the detailed motifs means that it takes a pretty skilled eye to cut into the fabric properly to ensure the final design is correct. I learnt a whole lot about the production process of tailor-made clothes from Martha, and we are very grateful for all her support!

Inspiration Posters at Martha's atelier in Tamale, Ghana

A Trip to the Fabric Market

Let's start at Ninh Hiep fabric market, twenty kilometres from Hanoi - where it all begins. Tucked in between rice paddies and a rapidly encroaching urban sprawl lies Northern Vietnam's largest textile market, where everyday more than 1,000 local household traders gather to sell a plethora of different fabrics, zips and buttons. 

One of my favourite parts of the trip to Ninh Hiep is travelling across Long Bien bridge – a shared train-motorbike overpass which hangs over the Red River. Built by a pair of Parisian architects, the bridge survived numerous assassination attempts during the American War due to its strategic importance as the only bridge connecting the capital of Hanoi to the strategic port-side town of Hai Phong. Driving over the bridge you will pass palm-tree lined fields on your left and couples taking impromptu photo shoots on the train tracks to your right.

The street leading up to the market is lined for almost one kilometre by individual fabric stores – here you can see the stores preparing for the upcoming Typhoon Haiyan by lining their roofs with tarp.

These streets prepare you for the onslaught of choice that lies ahead. It is easy to lose several hours at Ninh Hiep wading through various fabrics and colours. There is no shortage of cheap synthetics as Ninh Hiep falls directly on Vietnam’s trading route with its neighbours in the North. Sellers have no qualms telling you that their cheap polyester fabric is actually 100% top-quality cotton. However, beautiful linens, silks and cottons lie amongst the masses even if they are not always easy to find.  Almost every Hanoian tailor who has spent the better part of their lives stitching and sewing by hand can tell you in a matter of seconds what each fabric is made of.

©Flickr/TrungHieu

Favourite purchases from the market include:

• Cotton-silk fabric – I brought 55 metres in navy blue
• Gold coloured buttons sold by the gram
• Twilled-cotton blend in a unique blue/pink hazy floral print