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Al-Ahram Weekly 11 - 17 May 2000 Issue No. 481 |
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| Published in Cairo by AL-AHRAM established in 1875 |
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Egypt Region International Economy Opinion Culture Books Features Interview Travel Living Sports Profile People Time Out Chronicles Cartoons Letters Where it all began
By Yasmine El-Rashidi
A mall in Philadelphia. A jam-packed department store on New York's Fifth Avenue. An expensive designer label: It all began in Egypt.
In fact, it could well have begun at the Textiles Industries Company (TIC), a clothing manufacturer in the industrial Delta province of Mahalla.
Like any other production centre on the outskirts of the city, Mahalla has the big walls, the booming machines, and the heavy-duty infrastructure. Within the industrial sprawl, however, miracles -- to the clothes lover, that is -- are being made.
They are miracles like Calvin Klein and Polo Sport, Armani Exchange and Tommy Hilfiger. And beside the fashion world's mega-labels, a host of 'smaller' names: GAP, Liz Claiborne, Van Heusen and Petite Sophisticate.
In a town seemingly known to just the local population, world-renowned designers are taking advantage of Egyptian expertise -- and cheap Egyptian labour. Attracted by Egypt's Grade A cotton, low production costs and relatively sophisticated technological capabilities, luxurious houses of style have granted an unmatchable prestige to the little phrase "Made in Egypt."
It actually began in the early '80s -- a few years after the late President Anwar El-Sadat launched his open-door policy -- when a few designers trickled into Egypt looking for cotton.
"It is a gold mine," says Mohamed El-Messiri, co-owner of TIC, "And it continues to grow."
Ten years ago, production for foreign designers comprised 50-60 per cent of the El-Messiri family business's production line. Today, it makes up 90 per cent. "The thing is," El-Messiri explains, "if you produce for foreign clients, you manufacture a huge, predetermined number of garments which are sure to be sold out. You don't have to worry about what the market is like. It's a guaranteed deal."
The deal, he elaborates, is that the Egyptian companies, following stringent standards, have to manufacture a certain number of garments which are shipped directly back to the designer houses abroad.
"We're not allowed to sell them on the local market," El-Messiri says. "It's part of the deal."
The deal begins when a foreign fashion house approaches an Egyptian clothing manufacturer, subjects the factory to a series of screenings (ranging from cleanliness to machinery and professionalism in the workplace), then sets the ground rules. "Everything we do has rules and regulations. Our clients have extremely personalised, detailed requests which we must abide by. And of course," El-Messiri continues, "experts from abroad visit the factory to ensure that production is up to standard."
Production obviously has been, with designers increasing their trust in Egypt, and placing ever greater orders. "At first, Egypt just had franchise rights to foreign designer names," explains El-Messiri. "Things like JIL, Pierre Cardin and Valentino. But it's only in the past 15 to 20 years that the other more popular names came to actually manufacture some of their lines here for the foreign market."
A big step in that direction was marked by Marks and Spencer's opening of a leisure-wear plant in Port Said three years ago. The goods, of course, went straight from the factory to the department stores in London.
Things have changed slightly though, and no longer are the foreign markets the only ones graced with the little "Made in Egypt" labels. For in scattered corners of the city, amidst the window displays teeming with snazzy tank tops and bright, flowery skirts, inconspicuous signs are carefully being hung up.
"Leftovers from exports to Europe and the United States," the faded scrawl reads.
Inside the small stores, tank-tops and T-shirts are sandwiched on racks. The average asking price? Just LE15.
"It's possible these garments have minor faults," El-Messiri says. "Or, that our client sent them back. Generally the faults are so small they're not noticeable except by trained spotters. Sometimes, of course, there is absolutely nothing wrong with the garments -- they are surplus and are sent to the shops with the rest of the goods."
While the clothes are now being snapped up almost as soon as they hit the shelves, the local market wasn't always quite so thirsty for such goods. El-Messiri feels that the ready-to-wear market generally is far more open than before -- more diverse in the styles, colours and trends it can offer local consumers.
He's right, says Mohamed Fawzi, owner of a tiny clothing store near Metro supermarket in Giza. "Teens now are wearing the same things as the Americans and Europeans," he says, giving his take on the change. "They're much more conscious of fashion trends abroad. I've had this shop for 30 years now," he continues. "But it's only in the past 10 years that I've really felt the change. These tops sell just like this," he clicks his fingers. "We're giving them the most fashionable designs at dirt-cheap prices.
Indeed. Lee Jeans for LE60, Geoffrey Beene tops for LE57, Polo Sport boxer shorts for LE19, Tommy Hilfiger sun dresses for LE40... You may have to hunt to put together an entire outfit, but for those who just want the basics -- casual T-shirts and shirts, say -- it is a gift seemingly straight from heaven.
"It's wonderful," says a 19-year-old Cairo University student browsing through a rack at a similar shop in Zamalek. "The choice for men is much bigger, but I always find at least two or three things I like. If I went to any of the boutiques in Zamalek or Mohandessin I would pay no less than LE150 for a top with a designer name on it. Here I get the same for LE20, maximum!"
This particular store has just expanded. Acting as a distribution point for manufacturers such as TIC, Egyptian Italian Garments and Delta Textiles Group (DTG) has served them well. The shop has tripled in size, the choices on offer have proliferated, and the number of customers, it seems, has increased accordingly.
"It's something which is doing very well; bringing business to such shop owners and earning respect and regard for Egypt," El-Messiri says. "The industry will continue to expand, and hopefully in the future Egypt will take advantage of what dealing with such designers has taught it, and will use those same superior standards when manufacturing specifically for the local market."
It would be a dream come true -- to the shopper, that is.
For now, though, the odds and ends adorned with the magical foreign label are a deal enough to make anyone's day. Attached to the designer label are the price tags, all ready for the US department stores. The LE15 Hilfiger tops cost $35 Stateside; the sun dresses $56, and the endless choice of Liz Claiborne, Ralph Lauren and American Chinos Bermuda shorts -- a snip at LE45 -- go for $65 in the US. Ironic, perhaps; poetic justice nonetheless.