The Dressmakers of Auschwitz: The True Story of the Women Who Sewed to Survive

“From 1 September 1941, all Jews would be compelled to wear a large yellow Star of David on their outer clothing. If coats and jackets were removed, the next layer needed a star also. From sewing boxes and sewing kits came the needles and thread needed to complete this humiliating task. Some fastened the star with loose tacking stitches so it could be unpicked in a hurry when ‘passing.’

Clothing became contaminated by state-approved stigma. With a yellow star, Renee’s jacket would no longer be simply part of a teenage girl’s outfit but a garment that made her a target.”

The tarnishing of the Jewish symbol was visible proof of antisemitism. What Jewish people should have been able to display with pride now portrayed them as inferior. This symbol marked Jews as targets, fulfilling the Nazis’ goal of preventing their assimilation. That some Jews attempted to “pass” (i.e., blend into society due to “non-Jewish” physical traits) underscores the acts of resistance that helped people survival.

“Dressmaking was a financial resort for so many women in European economies, and worldwide. It was considered suitably ‘female’ as a profession and needed relatively little equipment. In German-occupied territories, women were forced to turn to their needles to earn money for daily bread. By daylight, lamplight or candlelight, between housework and caring duties, they bent over their work, making outfits, doing alterations, re-knitting unraveled woolens and creating colorful embroidery patterns.”

Sewing skills crossed social groups and economic classes in prewar Europe. The ability to make and repair the family’s clothes was a given for all women, though those who were wealthier could afford the “luxury” of hiring others to make their clothing. This labor provided the means for numerous women to support their families during desperate economic times. Elsewhere in the book, Adlington notes that skilled male prisoners had more opportunities to avoid hard labor at Auschwitz, simply because men worked in more industries than women. This made the women’s sewing skills all the more lifesaving. Since thousands of other women imprisoned and murdered at Auschwitz likely possessed skills of similar caliber to those in the Upper Tailoring Studio, Bracha, Irene, and others benefited from luck and connections.

“What to pack? What to wear? These were not frivolous considerations. Looking smart meant the women might feel more confident, and even be treated with more respect. There were girls who prepared for the journey by wearing their best clothes and getting their hair freshly set. This had to be balanced against practicalities.”

The circumstances young women would face after their forced relocation were unknown to them, and they often made every effort to present themselves at their best. In reality, nothing could be done to change the Nazis’ belief that Jews were not human, so such efforts were in vain. The concerns of the soon-to-be prisoners would soon change abruptly; no longer would maintaining up-to-date styles be a priority, as basic needs of clothing, food, and survival took precedence.

“Survivors were asked, post-war, Why didn’t you resist? Those who endured the procedure and lived could only say they could barely believe what was happening. As one of Bracha’s companions later explained, ‘The enemy had guns and we were stripped naked […].’ What could the young women from Slovakia do, when led to a washroom and commanded to undress?”

Much literature about the Holocaust references the unbelievability of the atrocity: That a mass slaughter could take place on such a scale is bewildering, especially since inmates vastly outnumbered guards. Though some revolts did occur, the question in the above passage is short-sighted. Physically weak from lack of food and medical care as well as mentally degraded by dehumanizing conditions and treatment, Auschwitz prisoners were made nonthreatening. In addition, most prisoners believed they had indeed been transported to the camps to work, not to be executed. The true goal of the concentration camps was a well-kept secret.

“One of Hunya’s memorable sayings was Kleider machen Leute. Hadern machen Läuse, or ‘Clothes make the person, rags make lice.’”

Much of Adlington’s discussion of the condition of the camp and its impact on the prisoners centers on the constant presence of lice. Because lice carry the disease typhus, prisoners were highly susceptible to infection. Delousing practices were common and served the added purpose of humiliation, as inmates were forced to endure them naked. Unsanitary conditions and dirty clothing (e.g., rags) were breeding grounds for lice. While working in the Upper Tailoring Studio, the seamstresses enjoyed improved living conditions, in part because of their proximity to SS officials, who were adamant they remain lice-free. Hunya’s saying reinforces this truth, but it also stresses clothing’s ability to counter dehumanization. Indeed, upon being permitted to wear real dresses, many of the seamstresses’ morale improved.

“Selection is such an innocent word out of context. In happier times, one might select the right thread to sew a fabric, or a hat to match an outfit, or a cake from a café menu. In a Nazi concentration camp, selection was a word weighted with fear. It signified teetering on the edge of death, usually to fall.”

This quote underscores the surreal nature of the Holocaust by juxtaposing daily life there with the existence inmates had previously known. It also speaks to the helpless situation of many camp inmates, who had little to no control over their fate. Lacking adequate clothing, food, shelter, and medical care, many were beyond ill-equipped to pass “selection.” 

“The two German servants were eventually dismissed by Hedwig for being ‘too lazy.’ They were replaced with two Jehovah’s Witnesses incarcerated in Auschwitz on account of their faith. Hedwig said Jehovah’s Witnesses made the best servants because they never stole anything.”

Though Jews made up most of the prisoners at the camps, other minority groups were also Nazi targets. While Hedwig touts Germans as a superior race, here she finds fault in them as employees. That she praises the Jehovah’s Witnesses for one of the very aspects of their personhood for which they are persecuted is ironic. Of further irony is the fact that Hedwig appears to have no moral objection to reaping the rewards of the Nazis’ plundering.

“A Nazi wife existed to produce children, and to support her husband. Hedwig succeeded with honors, inviting old friends to stay [at the Höss home at Auschwitz] as well as comrades from camp, so Rudolf could relax after a hard day facilitating genocide. There were picnics and horse rides along the nearby river bank, and even excursions to a nearby SS resort called Solahütte, where officers and female auxiliaries relaxed on a sun deck, sang to accordion accompaniment, took meadowland walks and picked fresh blueberries.”

Hedwig was a successful and respected Nazi wife—i.e., she conformed to traditional gender roles and accepted Nazi ideology. The author’s sarcastic tone in describing Rudolf’s job “facilitating genocide” as “hard” underscores the contrast between the privileged world of the SS and the horrific conditions endured by Auschwitz inmates. The life of the Hösses was luxurious, and they enjoyed the spoils of those they exploited without apology, relishing their own fortune as if every day were a vacation. The atmosphere of inviting meadows and carefree sunbathing was essential to maintain the guise that nothing untoward was taking place at the concentration camps.

“Where the SS selected people for death, in picking out her helpers Marta was selecting them for a better chance at life. Inevitably, her first choices were for women she knew. This is how privilege worked in the camps. Networks of connection, or ‘protection’ were crucial. The example of Marta gathering dressmakers in Auschwitz demonstrates how close the bonds of family and nationality were for Jewish inmates.”

Here the author juxtaposes the harmful “selection” of victims for the gas chambers with the advantageous selection reaped by Marta’s acquaintances. Thousands of skilled seamstresses were imprisoned in the camp, but connection, not luck, was what secured the work assignment for these specific 20 women. This likely saved many of these women’s lives, highlighting the theme of Solidarity and Alliances: Tools of Survival.

“Commandant Höss sneered at evidence of Jewish family ties, stating ‘They cling to each other like leeches.’ Next he contradicted himself by deploring what he saw as Jewish lack of solidarity. […] Despite frequent boasts that he understood prisoner mentality, Höss not only shrugged off his own responsibility for creating either conditions of solidarity or infighting, he also avoided any expression of compassion for the complex human experiences endured by inmates in Auschwitz. Acknowledging normal instincts of love, loyalty, or self-preservation would have meant acknowledging that the prisoners were fully human.”

Rudolf Höss’s contradictions are evidence of his antisemitism, yet they also undermine its supposed truth. If Jewish individuals did indeed value human connections and express universal moral beliefs, then they could not possibly be the “vermin” that Nazis insisted they were. Highlighting the inconsistency frames Höss himself as the inhumane one; he was responsible for the atrocious conditions and the mass murders occurring daily, no matter how he sought to justify his role in the genocide.

“The interaction between dressmaker and client is peculiarly intimate. The seamstress takes the tape measure to a semi-naked body; she is aware of all the physical defects. She perhaps senses her clients’ insecurities and has to pander to their vanity. A dress fitting would ordinarily be quite a chatty, friendly affair, as client and seamstress discuss the garment. For the Auschwitz dressmakers, these conversations were fraught with layers of tension. The SS had gone to great lengths to distance themselves physically and symbolically from ‘subhumans,’ as the inmates were called.”

The narrative draws a stark contrast between the “job” of the Auschwitz seamstress and that of their non-prisoner counterparts. Because the Nazis regarded Jews as nonhuman “vermin,” SS guards and other camp personnel would ordinarily avoid close physical contact with them. Dress fittings, however, proved the exception, conveying just how coveted the garments sewn by these Jewish women were. In some respects, the proximity of the Upper Tailoring Studio inmates to SS officers and their wives afforded them relatively improved living conditions. However, the interactions were also uniquely “fraught,” as the seamstresses’ “clients” would presumably not have taken kindly to any reminder—even inadvertent—of the hypocrisy of their behavior.

“The dressmakers were part of a hub of international friendships centered in the Stabsgebäude that defied racism, antisemitism and any political divisions. The hub comprised Jews and Gentiles, believers and atheists, artisans and intellectuals. Because of their relative privilege, women in the basement dormitories could huddle together into evening study groups. […] Many young women found they had a thirst for learning that went far beyond their education back home.”

Were it not for their imprisonment, the seamstresses and other women their age would be experiencing the ordinary events of daily life. This passage reminds readers of the ways in which the women’s prewar lives and concerns resembled those of young adults today. That they were able to overcome their differences only throws the Nazis’ hatred and xenophobia into sharper relief. The passage prompts readers to consider the potential talents and societal contributions lost to the Holocaust.

“How could a few pencil lines on a postcard explain a place like Auschwitz, where naked women were delivered on motorbikes and they [the prisoners of the Upper Tailoring Studio] sewed fashions for SS? Even if the truth had been permitted in messages from the camp, an infinite number of postcards would be needed to describe each person’s anguish and the enormity of Nazi crimes.”

This quote illustrates the relative “comfort” of life in the Stabsgebäude. That its workers were permitted to send postcards is both shocking and eerie; postcards are typically sent by those on vacation—the virtual opposite of imprisonment in a concentration camp. The postcards, however, provided inmates with the valuable hope of connecting with family members; they were also an opportunity to warn loved ones (in coded language) of the dangers they faced. Adlington explains that the camp officials had ulterior motives; they hoped to use the cards to discover Jews who were in hiding. The quote also stresses the extreme difficulty of communicating the experience of the Holocaust, which led some survivors to remain silent after the war. 

“Those who stumbled were lifted by friends and half carried, half dragged. Those with no friends to help were shot dead where they lay. After the long columns of prisoners had passed, local Polish people came out to stare at the corpses and to bury them. Thousands of them. They went to their graves without names, only their tattoo numbers and their meagre clothing to show identity or individuality.”

This passage stresses the theme of solidarity. Importantly, records documenting the manner of death of countless inmates do not exist—another reminder of information lost to history. Polish citizens played a complicated role in persecuting Jews. Nazi ideology denigrated the Polish people, which made some sympathize with the Jewish people’s plight. Such citizens actively aided Jews when they could, offering protection and other support. Other Poles adopted antisemitic beliefs, either out of conviction or as a survival strategy.

“Re-dressing one’s self was a significant part of liberation. To set aside camp stripes, camp rags, and all tokens of prison life, to put on proper garments once again, this was a powerful transition. From number to woman; inmate to person. Shedding rags helped shed humiliation.”

In keeping with the theme of the political role of clothing, the book underscores the ability of clothing to restore dignity and pride. While the healing of the mental wounds accrued at Auschwitz would take decades to repair, something as small as a clean set of clothing boosted morale immeasurably.

“All around the defeated Third Reich, roadsides were littered with torn insignia and discarded uniforms. In German homes seamstresses began Entnazifizierung—denazification—of clothes. Panzer uniforms became pajamas. Fabric from Hitler Youth outfits was used to patch dresses. Swastika patches were unpicked from red flags.”

As Germany’s defeat became certain, its citizens were swift to distance themselves from the Nazi party. What had once been worn with pride—notably, the swastika—was destroyed. Adlington’s description of this process of denazification ironically echoes earlier passages on the compulsory wearing of the Star of David (similarly “unpicked” for the purposes of passing) and the stripping and repurposing of clothing from Jewish prisoners. As Nazi supporters sought to deny potential complicity in Jewish persecution, Jews began the process of reestablishing their humanity.

“By the time of Germany’s surrender, stylish Magda Goebbels had already murdered her children and then committed suicide with her husband Josef. This was shortly after Hitler and his new wife Eva killed themselves in Hitler’s Berlin bunker on 30 April 1945. Whatever Magda wore at her death was doused in petrol along with her corpse and set on fire. Hermann Goering’s wife Emmy quickly bundled together valuables in a hat box when the Allies came to arrest her. She went to prison wearing a coat by Balmain, purchased in Paris.”

The clothing of SS officials and their wives was evidence of their abuse of Jewish resources and talent. Many of them clung to their fashionable items, as relinquishing them was an admission of defeat. The image of the burning clothing once worn by Magda Goebbels evokes the burning of the bodies at the concentration camp crematoriums—a fitting death, some would argue, for those who carried out Hitler’s extermination orders.

“In Auschwitz-Birkenau, inmates had learned very quickly that there were few personal possessions actually essential to life: clothes, shoes, food bowl. Beyond that it was friendships and loyalty that counted. Recovering belongings were less about owning items than re-establishing some kind of home life after the distorted reality of the camp.”

Having lost virtually all possessions, many survivors set out to reclaim personal property that rightfully belonged to them or to family members. Some items had been given to friends or allies for safekeeping, but other items were lost forever to Nazi theft. While the value of such goods was not necessarily high, they reflected the humanity of their owners, and it was this that was ultimately important to survivors. Things could be replaced, but the lives lost in concentration camps and elsewhere could not be recovered.

“Bracha eats in silence, with concentration. I cannot help thinking of meal times in camp, where desperate women fought for what little was on offer. I try to bridge the gap between this composed woman and the twenty-year-old who endured experiences almost beyond imagination. What I have studied, she has lived.”

Bracha is an important figure throughout the book. She is a key primary source for Adlington’s research, and Adlington depicts her as a strong and capable person, worthy of respect and admiration. Adlington’s decision to “break the fourth wall”—i.e., to reference herself and her research—characterizes Bracha more fully by providing a glimpse into her present-day life. The contrast between Bracha as an elderly woman and Bracha as a young woman reinforces just how innocent Bracha was when she arrived at Auschwitz. The final sentence of the quote demonstrates the danger of a research subject becoming abstract to the researcher—detached from real, lived experience. Meeting Bracha in person makes the atrocities of the Holocaust more “real” for Adlington, and she in turn seeks to do the same for the reader.

“Anxiety was a semi-constant companion for many survivors. They knew from bitter experience how easily trusted neighbors, colleagues and school friends became passive bystanders instead of allies, or even active perpetrators. They knew that a nice house, clean clothes and good conscience were absolutely no protection against abuse. They scanned the faces of people they met, wondering how they would behave in a camp situation.”

Adjusting to life after imprisonment was difficult. Not only did survivors face the task of reestablishing homes and jobs, but they had to acclimate to a social climate in which simple survival was not a daily priority. Their imprisonment shaped the way they interacted with others, as survivors were forced to relearn how to trust.

“Former prisoners who survived Auschwitz because of relatively ‘safe’ positions had the added complexity of living with the guilt at being alive because of this privilege—even if they had not taken advantage of anyone—when so many others died. The dressmakers of the Upper Tailoring Studio had to carry the knowledge that under extreme duress they had worked for the SS, that they had been coerced into clothing the commandant’s family, and that this had kept them from the gas chambers.”

The guilt those who lived experienced (termed “survivor’s guilt” in Holocaust literature) compounded the burden of shame, grief, and dehumanization. What should have been a triumph became a further trauma. The seamstresses’ position was unique in this respect, as they witnessed firsthand the way their work aided their enemy, highlighting the theme of The Identify of Work: Slavery or Survival? While their efforts were instrumental in saving their own lives, the guilt that others just as worthy of life perished could be devastating.

“Hedwig [Höss] changed neither her infamous surname nor her attitude toward the Nazi era. She was one of those who chose not to listen when survivors spoke. In 1992, she told a historian who requested an interview that she did not have the strength to face the horrors of the past again and again. Survivors who had actually lived through the horrors had no choice but to cope with the aftermath.”

Hedwig’s complicity in the murder of Jews and other minorities is difficult to overlook, as she not only personally relied on the slave labor they provided but profited financially from the clothing that Marta Fuchs and the other seamstresses produced. Adlington encourages readers to find Hedwig’s remark about the “horrors” of her past jarring or even shocking. Hedwig regards herself as worthy of sympathy despite living a life of luxury while others were imprisoned, abused, and murdered.

“Decades before, in Bratislava, Irene’s mother had somehow found an egg to gift her daughter. Later, in camp, Marta arranged for the miracle of a boiled egg in tribute to this kindness. On […] Irene’s last ever birthday […] Amy [Irene’s daughter-in-law] jokingly gave her an egg from the Passover seder meal of the day before. Irene held it up—the camera clicked.”

The anecdote of the egg Irene received as a child initially serves to convey the relative poverty that her family faced: A simple egg was an extravagance, and Irene treasured both the gift and the sacrifice. The value of the egg increased exponentially at Auschwitz, where the nourishment it provided was invaluable. Just as important, the gifting of it underscores the bonds that developed between the seamstresses and demonstrates the selflessness that they possessed. Food is essential not just for nourishment but as a means of unifying people, even in dire circumstances. The egg Irene received at the end of her life was a reminder of both her survival against incredible odds and the family and friends who enriched her life and protected her.