“Inside Out”
by Egle Paulauskaite
My internship at a sewing atelier experience, while I was a part of Rhode Island School of Design- European Honors Program, which took place in Rome.
Surrounded by the sounds of sewing machines and a middle aged Russian lady yelling at the phone in Italian, I hand-sew. Everything must be perfect: the size of stitches, the gap in between them, and distances from the fold of the fabric to the hole of the stitch and etc. It is a very “black” labor, but in the fashion industry they have this very glamorous name for it- haute couture. I have to be very careful, since this is very expensive fabric, very important client- this dress is custom designed by the designers of the Valentino house. It is a dress for an eight year old, for her mother’s, who is a very famous actress in Italy as I am told- wedding. I do not even want to imagine what my supervisor would say if I did it wrong. Probably, she would ask to “scucire,” one of the very first Italian words that I learned. The dictionary describes it as “unstitch.” In my opinion it would be more appropriate to say – to rip the seam out. However, it would not make her happy: this is silk, every pass of the needle, leaves a hole, which stays. I am hemming the bottom of the dress.
She is the queen of this place- the owner of this “Sartoria-” sewing atelier. When she talks on the phone she refers to herself as “sarta-” seamstress. On the first day of my internship at her atelier she said I have to refer to her as “Signora Natalia.” Her name is very similar to the word “Natale,” which stands for Christmas, however, I would not say that she is as marry. She scares me. The manner that Signora Natalia talks in is more like aggressively teaching, which is not very acceptable for the people of her age or older. As I have already learned in the beginning of October: she is Russian. Her mother, as my grandmother, was exiled to Siberia during World War II. She came to Rome thirteen years ago, with two suitcases, no friends and no place to stay. She is very ambitious, hard-working and very intelligent. She has two daughters. Signora Natalia likes to brag about them. She is like an industrial sewing machine, later could work twenty four hours a day, seven days a week, while Signora Natalia could talk. It is entertaining; however, in the beginning I did not understand much or rather at all, anything, I would just nod and smile. Later, when I picked up the language, I would get annoyed listening to her teachings and her reactions to the customers, who just called, or left, and would just not listen. Sometimes I just sewed, smiled and nodded.
I believe that all the other workers felt the same. Here, besides me- a man from Bangladesh. He is attaching a warmer into a Burberry coat. There is a picture of his family just above his sewing machine, everyone in it looks very happy. He has one child. He does not speak much of Italian himself. He calls himself- Shakidar, or something like it. He comes in six days a week, sits here and repairs these expensive, high-end designer jackets and pants for men. In my life, I could not image and have not met a person who did not know how to read or write. Now one is sitting next to me. He might not have had an education like many other people in the world, but he is always happy and smiling. Furthermore, he knows the language of sewing and tailoring very well. Signora Natalia started teaching him. I saw his notebook. It was filled with alphabet. During lunch break she teaches him how to pronounce each letter. She teaches me Italian language as well as sewing and traditional construction of garments. Despite her arrogance, she is a very good person. She cares and tries to help everyone.
All the workers, once they have done a step of sewing or a couple, they go to Signora Natalia and ask for further directions as well as approval of the done work. Here comes Verica, the other worker of her’s. Verica just cut out some patterns for a new jacket. Natalia just takes a look at it and she is furious. “Qui e Sartoria, non e fabbrica!-” this is a sewing atelier, not a factory. The seam allowance, the distance from the edge to the seam, was less than a centimeter. Verica is from Romania, she worked in a sewing factory in Romania for four years, she has a one year old, speaks fluent Italian. She can not stand her boss. Verica always rolls her eyes at her. She has long hair that she hides- rolled in a bun. She specializes in repairing women’s wear. Verica gets very offended with what Signora Natalia just said, and she leaves. Half an hour later sarta is still talking about this incident to me. I just keep on nodding.
I am a Lithuanian. I moved to United States when I was fifteen. My mother made me. I am a senior in Apparel Design at Rhode Island School of Design. Once again, I am in Europe, that I love so much. I am part of European Honors Program. Everyday I wear a black dress to my internship. Everyone in this Sartoria is everything but Italian. Yet everyone fixes theirs clothes and orders new ones here. I am an outsider in Rome, yet I am working with other outsiders. They communicate in Italian, they know how to sew better than I do- I am an outsider to the outsiders. I am working with them, serving Italian community- I am one of them.
I hand sew until I can not feel my middle finger (this finger is the one pushing the needle through every time), my vision gets blurry, and my back starts hurting. It is seven o’clock- I am waiting for Madam Natalia to say that I can go home. Another hour passes. I get anxious to go home and have some dinner. Luckily, some customer comes in. Signora Natalia goes in with the client to the room that I am sewing, that has a changing place. I leave the room. A lady is trying something on. I can hear them talking. Finally, I finish the seam that I am working on, get my courage together, and knock on the corner of the wall- there is no door just a curtain to separate the two rooms. I declare that I am leaving home, she says “A domani-” see you tomorrow. It is Saturday. She works on weekends. It is illegal to work on Sundays. Italy is a catholic country, and God “asks” his believers to celebrate Sundays. This might not be the reason why it is prohibited to work on Sundays.
Sartoria is three minutes away from the Pantheon. My dorm – home is seven minutes away from my internship. I can barely walk, I am so tired. I am hungry. There is a noise that I hear. I think it is just a sewing machine sound that can not escape my head. I keep walking. The sound continues. I start looking around. I lift up my head. The sky is black and is moving in different gulfs, every direction. The birds are migrating. I reach a passage near this small park. This is where people are very likely to get “blessed” by birds. In Rome, people use umbrellas not only for the rain. No wonder there are so many people selling umbrellas on the street. They are very annoying. These “umbrella men” offer you an umbrella even and especially if you already are walking with one. I reach home; the most exhausting part of the day is finally over. However, I still go to my studio to work on my own garments that I have to prepare for my critique, the upcoming week.
A couple days later, every day’s routine: I wake up, shower and eat some breakfast. I go to the school’s office, which is a floor down. I sort some documents for a couple of hours. I check my email, write some back. I get my professional look on and I go off to my internship. Through the window Verica sees me and lets me in. Madam Natalia is in a good mood, I can tell. Promptly she invites me and Verica into the room that she is sewing. Then she shows a couple of the Italian magazines. We see the dress that I was helping Natalia with. The magazines are full of pictures from the wedding. Signora Natalia is very happy about herself and me, she is glowing. She gives a copy for me. Fifteen minutes later I am surrounded by the sounds of the sewing machines. Natalia is yelling at some clients, who just entered the sewing atelier, to ask if their garments were ready. They mixed the day or just hoped they would be ready earlier. I am hand sewing.
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Rudy Maxa and Allan Comport judged the RateYourStudyAbroad.com Fall 2010 Travel Writing & Photography Contest. Rudy Maxa is the host of PBS‘s RudyMaxa’s World, a former Washington Post reporter and the former host of NPR‘s The Savvy Traveler. Allan Comport is a professor of art at the Maryland Institute College of Art (MICA).
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