The Book
The Dressmakers of Auschwitz, published 2021
The Author
Lucy Adlington. Adlington is a British novelist and clothes historian.
The Story
“You listen!”
These words are directed to author Lucy Adlington, and by extension, to you, the reader. And you should listen.
Lucy Adlington is a British novelist and clothes historian who tells the story of twenty-five Jewish women and political prisoners who used their skills as dressmakers and sewists to help them survive the Auschwitz-Birkenau concentration camp.
Adlington uses her fashion history background to deftly explain the importance of clothing: how it contributes to first impressions, signals something about your identity, and how the stripping away of clothes can be used to break down and strip away an inmate’s identity and dignity.
Where the inspiration came from
The author first became aware of the Auschwitz dressmaking shop known as the Upper Tailoring Studio when researching another book. Initially, Adlington was only able to find limited information about the women. She knew the women who worked in the Upper Tailoring Studio were Jewish and political dissidents imprisoned in Auschwitz. But she was not able to find out much more information. Still, Adlington used the limited information she was able to find as inspiration to write a Young Adult novel based on the workshop.
And with that, family members of women who had worked in the shop started emailing the author. One dressmaker was still alive, and Adlington was able to interview her in person. Mrs. Kohút directs Adlington to listen during this interview, and the story begins.
Where the Women Started
We are first introduced to the women and their families. They came from a variety of backgrounds, but they all had one thing in common: sewing. Sometimes from necessity, sometimes through talent.
Their childhoods and early youth started how one would expect. Surrounded by family, going to school, considering vocational training or higher education and finding jobs. The first big change for the some of the future dressmakers happened in 1939 when Jewish students were kicked out of school. The slow march to war and deportment had started. At first most tried to avoid deportation, but eventually the women found themselves on transports to Auschwitz.
I initially found the focus on this early time period and the extra context on the fashion of the time period a bit surprising. The author is a dress historian, so the I should not have been. I just thought the main story was the dressmaking shop.
But the dressmaking shop is not the real story.
The clothes made for the wives of Nazis are not the story.
The real story is how Marta Fuchs used this shop to save the lives of 25 women, and in turn these women used their skills to sew for their lives. The real story is how these women used their connections to pull each other out of despair and keep their humanity through such inhumane circumstances.
What it Meant to be a “low number”
Some of the women were among the first waves of deportees to arrive in Auschwitz-Birkenau. These early arrivers eventually became known as “low numbers”. Literally, the numbers assigned to them in lieu of their names. Their numbers were so low that tattoos were not in use yet.
The numbers climbed quickly. Prisoners with low numbers gained a reputation for their toughness and ability to survive.
The numbers are included in the book. But I’m choosing not to include specific examples here. The author does not dwell on them, which I like to think is a subtle reminder that we are talking about humans, not objects.
The Importance of Community
The dressmakers did not start their internment as dressmakers. Their early tasks included building crematoria, rail spurs, and eventually administrative work. Some women were in Auschwitz for almost a year before they were assigned their dressmaking role.
The studio got its start when Hedwig Höss, the wife of the commandant at Auschwitz, decided she wanted a new coat made out of items she already owned. Marta Fuchs volunteered and quickly found herself working as Höss’s personal seamstress. The attic of the commandant’s home was transformed into a tailoring studio. The envy of other Nazi wives encouraged Höss to expand the tailoring studio into a salon. Marta Fuchs was going to need help.
Several of the women were related or friends prior to their imprisonment, and both their connections and skills provided them with an opportunity to survive. The women’s dressmaking experience ranged from sewing for their families to running fashion salons. This tiny community, and a skill usually considered low status, helped keep the women alive. Again and again we learn of small gestures that saved a life, or made getting through the day possible.
Running Threads
Adlington continually weaves the importance of garments throughout, and examines the wild differences between the experiences of the inmates and the Nazis running the camp.
The Dressmakers’ Experience
On arrival to the camp, the prisoners humanity was systematically stripped away with their clothes and removal of all body hair. The author also takes special care to highlight humiliating treatment of menstruating women.
The prisoners new “subhuman” status was cemented through the filthy and used clothes they were forced to wear. Decent shoes were a rarity. Mostly, they had wooden clogs.
Eventually, some women were able to obtain decent clothing. But it was a rare privilege tainted by the fact that the clothing belonged to someone now interred in the camp.
The Privileged Experience
For the Nazi wives and guards, there was no dehumanization through the removal of clothes. Instead, there was the privilege and hypocrisy that came from the establishment and use of the dressmaking studio. The women did a good amount of mental gymnastics to avoid acknowledging what was happening around them. After all, they were benefiting mightily from the massive troves of personal items stolen from the Jewish prisoners on arrival.
The women of the dressmaking studio considered themselves lucky to work 10 – 12 hour days, though the dressmakers suffered anxiety and stress caused by the close proximity dressmaking forced the women to have with the people who wanted to destroy them. Meanwhile, Hedwig Höss hosted dinner parties, took what she wanted from the items stolen from the prisoners, and drank fine wine while raising a family at the camp.
In the end, records of who ordered what at the dressmaking studio did not survive. The Nazis did what they could to hide their crimes in the relatively short amount of time they had at the end of the war.
However, the women, and their memories, remained. They wrote down their testimonies and answered questionnaires. When they could, they shared their memories with their families, and then the world.
Two Final Notes
First, I want to call out the two French resistance fighters who worked in the tailoring studio by name: Alida Delasalle and Marilou Colombain. They are two of only a handful of female French political prisoners to survive. While they were initially celebrated, their contributions were quickly overshadowed by the “mythical image of a heroic male resistance fighter”. So here is a more pointed reminder of Alida Delasalle and Marilou Colombain contributions.
Finally, I’ve read a few books telling the story of Jewish survival during World War II. Most stories of course start with how things were before the war, which for many meant recounting their childhood. So far, every book I have read talks about how much love filled their childhood. Even when poor, they were rich in love and happiness.
I just thought it was worth pointing out.
I will have a boiled egg for you, Irene Reichenberg.
The Opinion
Recommended.
As much as I love books and the idea of reading, over the past few years it’s become more difficult for me to be okay with the stillness reading a book requires. So, it’s somewhat rare that I come across a non-fiction book that draws me in to an extent that I don’t want to put it down. But I found myself continually needing to know what happened next: did all the women survive, how did they manage, exactly who was the Mrs. Kohút who demanded we listen?
