On the Factory Floor: What It’s Like (Part 1)

When I started my career in apparel with Levi-Strauss, I didn't foresee how far - or to how many overseas factories - my job would take me to.

Now, over 25 countries and hundreds of factories later, from Peru to Israel to Indonesia,  I realize my early days at Levi's were a gift.  My training in the theory and practice of sourcing was excellent.  And as it turned out, I was fortunate in that my first factory visit was to Levi's Valencia Street denim factory in the Mission of San Francisco.

The 1906 all-wood building was truly a time machine back to the Gold Rush days Old San Francisco.  It closed in 2002, but for almost 100 years it made excellent denim jeans, with technology that changed little in that time, as I can attest. (I actually sewed a pair of 501s myself in the Levi's sample room.  It required seven different sewing machines to complete one pair of jeans!) 

When I travel the world making factory visits I often think of what I learned back then.  The truth is, factories now are not so different from Levi's original factory.

Fast forward to today.  When my friends and colleagues talk about our  careers,  and they hear about the exotic places my work has taken me over the years as an employee of Levis, Patagonia, Crocs, and now OuterKnown, they often ask:

          "What's it like to visit one of those factories?"   

Especially after I return from the other side of the world - literally 15 time zones away - they're curious about the people - and the factories - that make the clothes we wear everyday. 

First, my short answer: factories come in many shapes and sizes, from garage-size to several football fields, located downtown in world mega-cities, vast grey industrial parks, or hidden away in jungle exburbs.  Some have the latest Swiss, Japanese, and German technology, while others use the same machines found in the old Levi's factory.  There are scary factories ... futuristic state-of-the-art facilities ... and everything in between.

To begin with, getting to the factory can be half the battle - or half the fun - depending on how you look at it.  People in my line of work often know the initials for the major international airports, and track our airline mileage programs like our lives depend on them (some will say they do!).  Booking the right flight, at the right price, upgrade tricks, knowing which far-flung hotels are convenient, a good value, and safe, how best to adapt to the time change (hint: always exercise when you wake up in the morning, no matter where you are) are all crucial for a successful factory trip. 

After up to 18 hours in the air, you land in a country where you most likely don’t speak the language, and immediately have to adjust to the fact that it's up to two days later, or almost the day before: it can be pretty crazy on your mind and body.   You navigate through customs no matter how tired you are, then through a strange terminal, then transportation to your hotel.  The truth is, jet lag is one of the biggest challenges in my line of work. When I arrive at a long-time supplier's factory,  I'm frequently handed a cup of espresso or special tea when I walk in the door - which is replenished throughout the day - sometimes a very long day, as you will learn.

So at last you arrive at your factory destination.  After a formal kickoff meeting with your manager contact, you'll put in your ear plugs and slide on a face mask.

The door opens and you walk onto the factory floor.  For a minute the sensory experience can be a bit overwhelming: huge spaces, hundreds of workers, and the din of operating machinery so loud it can be hard to talk and hear.   Lighting can be excellent or barely adequate, if it's a marginal facility.   If it's rainy season, it can be hot and sticky. The factories in Thailand, Sri Lanka, India and Malaysia are typically very hot - up to 90+ degrees. No matter where they are located, most factories are cooled with lots of big industrial fans.  Few are air conditioned.

But it’s the smell of cotton that I most associate with what makes a factory visit unique.  When you are hit with the rich smell of cotton being processed in a spinning or weaving facility for the first time, you never forget it.

Sew factories, which specialize in making garments, are generally very large - the size of a football field - and often of newer construction.   On the other hand, I work with a wonderful legacy fabric mill in Portugal that’s close to a 100 years old, and the factories in the United States are typically the smallest ones I visit.

In Asia and India, where most ready-to-wear apparel is now made, you'll find yourself in the middle of up to 1500 workers at sewing machines arranged in lines, modules, or teams working in tandem. These sewing professionals - and they are highly skilled and often excellent at their craft - are generally women.  So it's a surprise when the majority of the workers are men, which is true in some countries such Malaysia.  

How I utilize my time in the factory is very calculated, just like the minutes-per-garment is for production runs.   With a new supplier, I will follow a Purchase Order through every stage of the manufacturing process.  This is the only way to learn if the factory's management systems meet our quality standards for finished goods, sustainability, and social compliance.  Starting with order entry, I then review receipt of the raw materials, on to cutting, sewing and manufacturing, and finally ending with the inspection process.

These visits are physically exhausting, and take many hours of intense focus.  If you need to use the restroom on a factory floor, watch the symbol on the door to insure you are entering a stall with a standing toilet.  In Asia it's customary to use a "squat" toilet built into the floor.

A supplier facility can have anywhere from 20 workers to 4,000+,  depending on their size and specialty. In China, some workers live in dormitories on the factory campus, and stay for months before returning periodically to their villages. In other countries, like Mexico, the workers may live close by, and drive, bike, walk or take mass transit to work,  just like we do.

When you are walking a factory floor, workers and staff may or may not show interest in your visit. Sometime they may make eye contact, smile, and observe as you make your way through the various stations. I prefer these factories.  It usually means there is an open management system at this factory, which is better for the workers. During one visit with a supplier in Sri Lanka, my rep stopped the sewing line of over 40 workers, and introduced me as the person responsible for the clothes they were making right at that moment.  What a pleasure to meet their team, half way around the world, and shake their hands.   A day in my professional life I will not soon forget.

To be continued...