A wealthy, fashionable woman from north Tehran, Sudaveh, had no idea how to act when the morality police would show up at her clothing factory in the first years of the Iranian revolution.Zarir, her assistant from the pious slums of south Tehran, knew exactly what to do. “Don’t go in there!” Zarir would tell the men as Sudaveh rushed to cover up in adherence to strict Islamic dress codes. “Madame doesn’t like to be disturbed during her prayers.”While Zarir helped Sudaveh navigate the intricacies of the Islamic Republic, Sudaveh helped Zarir transform herself from a homebound victim of domestic violence to a businesswoman who stood up to her strict traditional family.Over nearly two decades, the two women from two different Irans became friends. The threads of their lives became interwoven. The fabric of their nation changed. Their clothing business grew into a small empire.After the 1979 Islamic Revolution, Iran turned inside out. Streets, once bustling with prostitutes and drunken revelers, became somber. The revolution also upended Iran’s once-inflexible class system. Wealthy families lost status and income, and many moved abroad. Pious and poor families made their way up the social ladder. Economic realities sent women into the workforce. In this transformed world, Sudaveh and Zarir came together.Before the revolution, Sudaveh worked as a deputy to the head of Iran’s state-owned Agricultural Bank, an elite post she got through connections. But like many of her class, she was pushed out of her job.Then in her mid-30s, she began considering her options. She wanted to earn money, stay busy and keep her distance from the newly empowered class of pious bureaucrats. She decided to get into the clothing business, specifically children’s outfits, to avoid the troubles that accompany anything to do with women’s fashion in Iran.She sketched T-shirt designs, had them produced at workshops in downtown Tehran. “At first, work was very hard,” she said. “The stores would try to rip us off.”Business grew, and Sudaveh took a chance. She bought some equipment, hired a few workers and began producing the clothes herself. It was rare for a woman to run a factory, so it immediately aroused the suspicion of the morality police. The Islamic Republic’s restrictions on dress and social behaviour barely affected Zarir’s south Tehran neighbourhood during the 1980s. Zarir came from a strictly religious family.At 16, she was married off. Her husband was abusive and divorced her. To make matters worse, he refused to let her see her children. With no means to look after herself, she persuaded her conservative father to let her look for a job. That’s when she met Sudaveh. “When I came here, I was in a really bad state,” said Zarir, now in her early 40s and manager of the workshop. Her father was impressed with Sudaveh and agreed to let Zarir work at the factory as long as she did not go down where the men worked.After Sudaveh learnt of her employee’s tale of heartbreak, she gave her some advice — to discreetly befriend her ex-husband’s new wife, and offer to take care of the children now and then. It worked. Soon Zarir and the second wife were conspiring, getting her the time with her children that had been denied by their father and the Islamic courts. Zarir became impressed with Sudaveh’s social skills. Although conservatives derided people from her class as Western stooges, Zarir found her boss’ world attractive. Sudaveh hired more female employees. But she was frustrated by their refusal to interact with her male workers. “It was hurting the bottom line,” Sudaveh said. “A group effort means a group.” One day, she gathered all the women working in the upstairs rooms. She led them down the steps. “I said, ‘You won’t put your head down. You’ll raise your head and look at the men in the eyes.’” Within months, an easy informality set in. The men and women began addressing each other by their first names and worked side by side.Seven years ago, Sudaveh opened up her own shop, with her own brand. It did well, and she opened another store.Sudaveh’s daughter finished her studies and began working for her mom. She hired a software programmer to set up a computer inventory system, putting bar codes on outfits.The business has expanded to about a dozen stores nationwide, generating millions of dollars in annual revenues. Sudaveh bought a condominium in Toronto.The morality police still come around, although they are more a nuisance these days than a threat; they will shutter shops — but temporarily.
