textiles – Jewish Independent

Creation of now-iconic pant

Jeans bearing the Levi Strauss & Co. trademark.

Nothing quite compares to the essential staple that almost all of us have in our closets, with styles including flare, skinny, low-rise, high-rise, boyfriend, ripped, the list goes on. If you haven’t guessed already, I’m referring to jeans. They epitomize fashion versatility, taking us from a city stroll in a pair of sneakers to our favourite restaurant in the evening with a boot or dress shoes. There are few fashion houses, from couture to street wear, that haven’t designed their own style. But, for the original jean, we have to thank Levi Strauss & Co.

Loeb Strauss, born 1829 in Bavaria, was the youngest of seven children. At age 16, after his father’s death and with increasingly harsh restrictions and discrimination towards Jews, he decided – with his mother and two of his three sisters – to move to New York. There, two of his brothers welcomed him into their dry goods business.

photo - Levi Strauss — Levi Strauss. *(photo from Wikipedia)*

In the 1850s, in the midst of the gold rush, Strauss saw potential opportunities to set up shop in the West and he did so, opening a branch of the family business in San Francisco, where he changed his name from Loeb to Levi.

Levi Strauss & Co. became a rapid success, selling merchandise to local customers as well as to those in neighbouring cities. Strauss became a respected figure among the Jewish community, known to have a sharp business mind and a kind demeanour. He was also known for giving back to community, donating to both Jewish and non-Jewish charities.

The nature of the business – and the course of fashion worldwide – changed when Strauss was approached by Jacob W. Davis, a regular customer and acquaintance, who came to collect an order of canvas for his tailoring business. Davis made durable work wear, or “waist overalls,” as he called them, from special fabric that was primarily used to make tents. Having developed a system to prevent the overalls from ripping at the pockets by adding copper rivets at the corners (allowing them more longevity), he knew he discovered something big but, in order to proceed, he needed financial backing, primarily for the patent fee. Strauss became his business partner in 1873.

Levi Strauss & Co.’s jeans were produced largely for the labour workforce. However, over the years, they became a choice piece of clothing for women and men in any profession, at least when not working. Levi’s entered the world of film in 1938 when John Wayne wore a pair of Levi’s 501 jeans, transforming them into the American cowboy’s leading attire.

photo - According to the company’s website, the trademark depicting two horses attempting to pull apart a pair of Levi’s waist overalls, symbolizes “the strength of the clothing in the face of competition.” It was introduced in 1886 — According to the company’s website, the trademark depicting two horses attempting to pull apart a pair of Levi’s waist overalls, symbolizes “the strength of the clothing in the face of competition.” It was introduced in 1886. *(photo from levistrauss.com)*

The financial success of Levi Strauss & Co. allowed Strauss to expand his business to many diverse industries, from banking to electricity. His philanthropy also expanded and he gave to many Jewish organizations, notably helping found and establish the Reform congregation Emanu-El in San Francisco.

While Strauss never married and had no children of his own, he had a strong relationship with his nephews. When he died, in 1902, Levi Strauss & Co. and most of his estate went to his four nephews and other family members; many charities were also beneficiaries named in his will.

Over six generations, Levi Strauss & Co. has remained a family-run business, manufacturing not only jeans but other casual wear, accessories and a children’s line. One of the largest brand apparel companies in history, the Levi Strauss name is universally recognized. Now run by the Haas family, decedents of Strauss, the family and business continue Strauss’s legacy in another important way – by being one of the most charitable families in the Bay Area.

Ariella Stein is a mother, wife and fashion maven. A Vancouverite, she has lived in both Turkey and Israel for the past 25 years.

The purple dyes of the Carmel Coast

(photo from Haifa University via Ashernet)

“Until now, there has not been any meaningful direct archeological evidence of workshops for the production of purple-coloured textiles from the Iron Age – the biblical period – not even in Tyre and Sidon [in Lebanon], which were the main Phoenician centres for the manufacture of purple dye. If we have identified our findings correctly, Tel Shikmona, on the Carmel Coast [in Israel], has just become one of the most unique archeological sites in the region,” explained Prof. Ayelet Gilboa and PhD candidate Golan Shalvi from the University of Haifa, who are studying finds that have been guarded in various storerooms in Haifa since the 1960s and ’70s.

Tel Shikmona is known mainly for its surrounding Byzantine settlement, including some splendid mosaics. The Iron Age settlement dates to the 11th to 6th centuries BCE, corresponding in biblical terms to the period of the judges, the United Monarchy (Saul, David and Solomon), the kingdoms of Israel and Judah and the Assyrian/Babylonian epoch. It occupies about five dunams (a bit more than one acre) out of the 100-dunam site of the Byzantine city at its peak. A section of the tel was excavated between 1963 and 1977 by Dr. Yosef Elgavis on behalf of the Haifa Museum, with the active support of then-Haifa mayor Abba Hushi. The site was known by archeologists and experts to have yielded rich material findings; for various reasons, however, these have never been published in a comprehensive manner.

The wealth of findings is associated with the Phoenician culture, including an unusual number of vessels imported from overseas, and it is the largest collection of ceramic vats found anywhere in the world from the first millennium BCE that still preserve purple colouring (made from the glands of murex snails). “Rather than being considered a region of secondary importance in this period, the Carmel Coast can now gain its rightful place as one of the most important production areas of the dye in ancient times in general, and during the biblical period in particular,” concluded the researchers.

The Shikmona project is being undertaken under the auspices of the Zinman Institute of Archeology at the University of Haifa, with the support of the Israel Antiquities Authority and the National Maritime Museum in Haifa, where some of the findings are displayed.

Crocheting as work

The label for an Iota rug and pouf hand-knit by Kefaya, a Bedouin woman. (photo from Iota)

Some of the best projects are born out of a desire for change – at least that was the case with Iota, an Israel-based textile company empowering unemployed women through the art of crochet.

Each one of the company’s rugs, pillows and home accessories is hand-crocheted by Bedouin women from their own homes, providing them with meaningful work and an independent source of income.

Bedouins are an Arab Israeli subgroup, located mainly in the south, with their own distinct culture and social norms. Historically, Bedouins lived a nomadic lifestyle, and many still herd livestock. Women traditionally tend to the house and children, resulting in high unemployment and poverty rates. A 2015 survey showed the employment rate among Bedouin women as 22%, compared to 32% for all Arab women.

Founded by Shula Mozes, an active social entrepreneur for more than 16 years, Iota aims to support the many women, all over the world, who are unable to work outside of the home due to cultural, religious and geographical reasons.

When she started the company in 2014, Mozes chose crochet, a self-taught hobby, as a means to create a business that could empower these women and fuel social change. With the help of creative director Tal Zur, she later discovered that not only is crochet a very versatile technique, but it has its own universal language that can be written and learned, like music notes.

“I realized that if I can learn to make things by crocheting small elements and putting them together, maybe we can teach women who don’t have work how to do the same,” Mozes said.

photo - Iota’s studio in Tel Aviv — Iota’s studio in Tel Aviv. (photo from Iota)

Iota now runs a small studio in Tel Aviv, where an all-female team of textile experts dreams up intricate designs. At least once a week, a member of the Iota team travels to Hura, a Bedouin village in southern Israel, to deliver raw materials to the women the company employs. Once complete, the finished products are transported back to Tel Aviv, each piece bearing a label signed by the woman who made it.

Currently, Iota employs three women in Hura, an intentionally small number, Mozes said, in order to maintain a strong commitment to each worker. “We have to respect their culture and empower the women slowly, so that they can work according to what they’re comfortable with,” she said.

Though centred on a 200-year-old technique, Iota’s designs are modern. The yarns used to create each piece are bespoke, developed in-house and produced in a local Tel Aviv factory. Mozes said that, by applying computerized designs, they’re able to create yarns that contain several different colours in the same thread, allowing the carpets to be made with one continuous string of yarn.

While Iota is currently only active in Israel, Mozes said she hopes to collaborate with other communities worldwide, which are experiencing high rates of female unemployment.

In January, Iota exhibited its collection for the third time at Maison & Objet, an international trade fair in Paris known for showcasing innovative design talents. The collection, ranging in price from 200 to 2,000 euros (from $315 to $3,150 Cdn), consists of colourful single-yarn rugs, oversized floor cushions, stools, one-of-a-kind swings and home accessories.

“I hope that, in the future, we will be able to take one of the women with us to an exhibition so she can experience the success of Iota firsthand,” Mozes said. “Without them, none of this would have happened.”

For more information, visit iotaproject.com.

Israel21c is a nonprofit educational foundation with a mission to focus media and public attention on the 21st-century Israel that exists beyond the conflict. For more, or to donate, visit israel21c.org.

My homemade Purim poncho

I might have been a Jewish Martha Stewart if fate had been kinder to me. I used to watch with envy as she placed her rose-scented candles on the needlepoint tablecloth in the centre of which were the exquisite paper flowers she crafted. In my fantasy, I imagine my own dinner table now ready for the chopped liver, with braised lamb shanks, kasha pilaf and apple kugel, which would be served on my designer Star of David ceramic plates. Blossoms of fresh orchids from my greenhouse would fill the room. And it would be a good thing.

It is to my chagrin, however, that domestic tasks have never been my forte. Instead, I learned to deflect sizzling hockey pucks from four older brothers as they practised their shots on goal on the frozen North End streets of Winnipeg. I couldn’t whip up a chocolate brownie, but I could power a strike ball for the boys baseball team. I would likely have made a slam-dunk career in basketball if not for my growth spurt maxing out at five feet at an early age.

But, as I became an adult, stopping a puck, throwing a baseball or shooting baskets were no longer in demand. Domestic tasks became the necessity of life and I had few skills. I did manage to accumulate some basic cooking skills, however, and, to date, none of my family has succumbed to starvation.

Now, the task of sewing is a different ball of yarn. What little I learned, I picked up in school. I still remember the pained look on the face of my Grade 7 teacher as I zigzagged the hemline on the proverbial apron running it through the sewing machine. Nonetheless, my lack of proficiency with domestic skills had not interfered greatly in my life – that is, until I became a mother. Then it all came to a flashpoint!

My then-5-year-old daughter, who was attending Peretz School at the time, needed a costume for their annual Purim carnival. She, the little princess, wanted to be a queen – Queen Esther, no less. Oh sure, I’ll just whip up a queen’s costume as soon as I finish the cheese soufflé, the salmon mousse, chocolate-coated orange peels and homemade halvah. What to do? Well, creativity helps where skills fail. I pondered that maybe I could pick up a large piece of fancy material, cut a hole in the middle, and then throw the whole thing over her head, like a poncho.

So, for the first time in my life I found myself in a fabric store like a rookie at a textiles Superbowl. I looked and felt and touched, feigning expertise. Eventually, I settled on a rich red satin. I cut out a round hole in the centre using a “dummy” circle for an approximate size of her head. If I was looking for a “dummy,” I could well have used my own head. The hole had to be adjusted several times to make it big enough to actually get her head through it. The biggest problem, however, was the edges. They were frayed all around and still needed something more to dress it up.

After another search, I discovered long strands of sequins sold by the yard. Exactly what I needed! I chose gold. Very royal, I thought. Much to my surprise, I still remembered the basic back and hemstitch from my sewing class – not a total loss. With needle and thread, I painstakingly stitched on the sequins around the neck and all the edges (I knew enough not to have her head in it at the time). After numerous hours, with bleary, red, irritated eyes, stitch by stitch, it was done.

“What will I wear for a crown?” whined my unappreciative daughter. Once again, I called on some inner resources for inspiration. I found an expandable holder used for tying hair back in a knot or bun. It was gold-coloured metal dotted with decorative “pearls.” When it was fully extended, it sat on the top of her little head like a crown. She loved it! Perfect!

We were ready. Her long, blonde hair flowed softly over her simple red satin poncho gilded with gold sequins, and her greenish-blue eyes sparkled like the “crown” on her head. She was a queen! A blonde Queen Esther!

The party was already in full swing when we arrived, with blue-and-white streamers and balloons lining the walls and ceiling. Chattering children were milling about in all kinds of wonderful outfits. Although her costume was not as elaborate as many, she blended with the others and joined in the games, sang Purim songs and ate hamantashen. At the end of the afternoon, everyone was told to gather around because the judges were ready to announce the winners of the contest.

What contest?

But before I could answer my own question, I heard them announce, “The winner for the best girls costume is Queen Esther.”

“Who?” I whispered under my breath in disbelief.

“Queen Esther!” they called again, as if responding to me personally.

With astonishment, I watched, tears welling in my eyes, as my daughter scrambled onto the stage of the school auditorium for her special moment. I was delighted for her, but bursting with pride for me. It had not been my goal but turned out to be my slam-dunk. This small victory was my personal triumph. I was a Martha Stewart after all. Well, a Jewish Martha Stewart, or maybe substitute Miriam Silver? Regardless, it was a good thing.

Libby Simon, MSW, worked in child welfare services prior to joining the Child Guidance Clinic in Winnipeg as a school social worker and parent educator for 20 years. Also a freelance writer, her writing has appeared in Canada, the United States, and internationally, in such outlets as Canadian Living, CBC, Winnipeg Free Press, PsychCentral and Cardus, a Canadian research and educational public policy think tank.