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Made in the U.S.A Ohio Knitting Mills Store Arrives in Boerum Hill. by Phil Smrek

Two years ago, on a hunt for scrap metal and an I-beam, sculptor Steven Tatar walked around the corner from his studio to the recently closed Ohio Knitting Mills factory in Cleveland's industrial corridor. What happened next -- a chance meeting with the factory-owner's son, the discovery of thousands of unworn pieces of clothing -- led to the October opening of Boerum Hill's Ohio Knitting Mills store.
From 1927 to 2003 the original Ohio Knitting Mills factory manufactured garments for clients such as Pendleton, Jatzen, Sears and Roebuck & Co., Montgomery Ward and lesser known lines like Queen's Way to Fashion and Kerrybrooke. At its peak, the factory employed 700 union workers and took up an entire city block. Over the years, one or two copies of each garment made were archived along with cancelled but already completed orders, otherwise known as "dead stock." The owner's son, Gary Rand, gave Tatar access to the sealed vault of thousands and thousands of samples and Tatar soon realized he had discovered a perfectly preserved vestige of American craftsmanship. Hoping to "do right" by the family, Tatar opened shop in Brooklyn in order to honor the legacy of these never-worn relics. With an edited collection of '47 to 74 men's and women's knitwear, the Ohio Knitting Mills store made its debut just in time for New York City's first crisp fall weekend.
Made of wool, linen, cotton, acrylic and nylon, the sweaters, capes, vests, skirts and dresses evoke a style and aesthetic that is at the same time both historic and fresh. The complexity of knitting techniques and the creative attention paid to details like buttons and trim serve as both a reminder of and inspiration for American innovation in design. Tatar intends for the shop to serve as a platform for future Ohio Knitting Mills lines.
I recently sat down at the Smith Street store with Tatar.
Phil Smrek: Your great-grandfather started American Greetings selling postcards out of a shoebox in Union Terminal on Cleveland's Public Square and your grandfather built it into a multi-billion dollar business. Is there a secret family recipe for building brands?
Steven Tatar: Absolutely. I learned from working in my family's business to know who you truly are, where you come from and to stay real to your roots. That's where a brand's soul lives and it can't be created artificially.
PS: What happens when you run out of original stock?
ST: Well, that's not going to happen too soon, but it will happen eventually. We're interested in creating new designs that reflect the quality and quirky colors and patterns of the archived pieces -- we have swatch samples back to the 1930s!
PS: How do you plan to maintain the tradition of American craftsmanship? Will you be able to produce new product in America?
ST: That's a very challenging and confronting question for us. It's well understood that manufacturing in America is rapidly disappearing. Many of the few remaining machines that our goods were made with have been destroyed. We're looking high and low for producers to collaborate with in order to make new goods, and if they're in the U.S., then all the better.
PS: Why do you feel there's been such a strong, visceral reaction to the brand?
ST: For practically every person who comes into our store, their initial reaction as they take in the bold colors and patterns and almost "outsider" styling is: "Wow, these are so cool!" And that's usually followed by curiosity and intrigue as they realize they don't quite have a reference point for our stuff. It's so unlike what's out there. Everyone wants to know the story of what they're looking at and touching. When we tell them, there is often an "Aha" moment, a sense of recognition and almost deep connecting for many people. Often times, they start to share their own stories of being from the Midwest (which I call the "New Old Country), and personal histories about manufacturing and industrialism There's a genuine yearning for touching primary materials and making things with our hands and tools. In our own small and entrepreneurial way, with Ohio Knitting Mills, we're trying to reconnect with and share this heritage of making.
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