See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Wear No Evil

The man wore a fine silk shirt, buttoned to the collar, no tie. His pleated slacks were made of wool, dark charcoal in color, the pant legs flowing over boots of black leather. Nice threads. He seemed a nice fellow too, almost shy. He spoke with an accent brought over from Manchester, England, where at age 17 he had plunged into the garment trade. He described himself as an “honest, hard-working man” out to make “an honest living.” As he spoke, another man stood beside him at all times. This other man was the lawyer.

They had called this Monday news conference to clear the air about the El Monte slave business. His company had dealings with an outfit that for years allegedly kept 97 sewing machines humming, 14 hours a day, seven days a week, in an apartment complex surrounded by a high, spiked fence, bars over the windows. The sewing machines were operated by illegal immigrants from Thailand, people who apparently had been sold a load about a swell new life in the Golden Land.

What Michael Margolis, president of New Boys Inc., wanted the reporters to know was that, well, he didn’t know much of anything. He didn’t know about the El Monte sweatshop; he thought the sewing was done at the subcontractor’s South Los Angeles plant. He didn’t know about seven-day workweeks and shirts sewn for 17 pennies apiece. He didn’t know about the fence, the guards. He didn’t know. He didn’t even suspect.

“How could I?” he asked. “I don’t think like these people think. And if you don’t think in the same mentality as these people, how can you even think to check it out?”

*

In front of the apartment complex on Santa Anita Avenue, where the Thai immigrants made clothes that would be sold in some of America’s finest stores, there stands a sign. The sign says: “Neighborhood Watch.” Cheap irony, perhaps, but certainly nobody seemed to watch this building. Maybe this was because, from the outside, it appeared so well-kept, so quiet: Nothing escaped but the steady hum of those 97 sewing machines. Across the Los Angeles Basin, there must be thousands of buildings that look just like it, window bars included.

“Do you think there are more sweatshops out there?” the reporters asked Margolis.

“After this,” he said, “nothing would surprise you, would it?”

The state labor commissioner who has led the two-week investigation into the El Monte sweatshop later would say at a news conference of her own that she doesn’t “believe” such operations are commonplace in California. Not believing, it must be noted, is not quite the same as not knowing. What she has noticed, Victoria Bradshaw went on, is that garment industry outrages tend to occur more frequently in Southern California rather than in the North. She believes it is a function of the labor pool.

“There is a ready work force down here,” she said, “that happens to be undocumented, and we know that undocumented workers don’t complain, or can’t complain.”

They just shut up and sew.

This is a point that became scrambled last year during the debate over Proposition 187, also known as the Pete Wilson reelection campaign. Proponents argued with a straight face that illegal immigrants exploited taxpayers--sending kids to school, falling sick, etc. In truth, when it comes to exploitation, taxpayers must stand in line well behind undocumented workers, who go to work every day knowing--as their bosses surely know--that the INS is but a phone call away. Such knowledge tends to make for a pliant work force.

*

They arrive in the mail every doo-dah day. Bulletins from the world of Eddie Banana Gap, promoting bargains, bargains, bargains. The clothes in these competing brochures tend to look much the same: Often, they are. Only the logos and labels vary. The prices, however, are what catch the eye. The prices are uniformly terrific.

Now it is best not to think too much about how the prices can be so low. From such thinking will spring some uncomfortable questions, like: Was this sweat shirt stitched together by a child toiling for pennies in Central America, or was it made in a Chinese sweatshop, and under what conditions? Or is it the handiwork of the residents of a certain El Monte apartment house, a product of the good ole U.S. of A.

Indeed, someone asked Margolis if he had contracted with the local firm that “employed” the Thais so that his clothing lines could carry the “made-in-U.S.A.” label. He said forget it.

“I don’t think consumers care about that,” he said.

“They just want it cheap?” a reporter asked.

“They just want it cheap.”

“In this business,” the lawyer weighed in, “everything is price-driven.” The flip side of price, of course, is cost. Most people know the price of a shirt. What they don’t know is the cost. To better understand that, it would help to know how to speak a little Thai.