She imports the fabrics personally from Italy and Japan

Tag : t-shirt fabric
Now at Maison Rouge (literally, "red house"), located in Tel Aviv'sMasaryk Square, she is happy to hear that customers in Antwerp wantto know when her new collection will arrive: "They're far morefashion oriented. I enjoy receiving compliments there, becausethere's no shortage of well-designed clothes in Belgium." But sheis truly gratified when a local customer enters the shop and likesher men's clothing. "It provides a perspective on everything I'vedone until now," she says.

With her boyish look and a la garcon haircut, the beautifulEizenberg personally serves shoppers in the store and doesn't stopsmiling, with a somewhat crooked front tooth that lends her charm."I know that the brand name is somewhat complicated," she admits,"but in the end they identify it."

Her designs are unusual on the local landscape: "I consider'tailored' a creative concept, not a particular item of clothing.What I'm trying to do has much more to do with an approach thanwith the type of clothing. The work is what makes the clothestailored; it makes no difference whether they are made of wool orcotton. Even a windbreaker can be tailored."

Eizenberg inserts small identifying signs in her clothing. On allthe button-down shirts, for example, there is one red buttonhole -a kind of subtle reminder of the name Maison Rouge. In addition,all her clothes include a symbol like an aristocratic coat of armsin the brand's colors: black, white and red, "the way Ralph Laurenhas the horseback rider and Dior has the fly."

Behind the very clear design concept there is also a definedideology, which took shape while Eizenberg was in Italy.

"I was 28 years old and I understood that what bothers andpreoccupies me is this period around the age of 30 and how I, myhusband and our friends are dealing with it," she explains. "We'rea generation that has the freedom not to grow up. Our parents werealready adults at the age of 30, and we still consider ourselvesyoung. The question is where to draw the line between 18-year-oldyoung people and 30-year-old young people. After all, it's not thesame thing. We can tell ourselves that we haven't changed and wearthe same clothes, but it's just pathetic. We're not 18 years oldand no T-shirt will help us change that.

"In every design I create I examine whether it reflects thisconcept. I'm looking for a balance between not giving up youthfuldreams, preserving the spark, and the fact that 30-year-olds areserious people who have life experience, who make decisions andhave to dress for work. You have to know how to grow up, too, andit's very important to maintain your identity."

Personal imports

Alla Liebersohn (her maiden name) lived in the city of Vinitsa inUkraine until the age of 14, and then immigrated to Israel with herparents and sister. Both parents continued to work in theirprofessions; her father is a construction engineer and is nowsupervising the building of the Ashdod port, and her mother is amusic teacher. She graduated Blich High School in Ramat Gan, didnot do army service and after a year of compiling a work portfolio,began to study at the Shenkar School of Engineering and Design inthe fashion-design track. In 2003 she married Rom Eizenberg, amarketer in a high-tech company and a full partner in Maison Rouge.For the past year Eizenberg has been designing costumes for theBatsheva Dance Company ("Furo" is the fourth show that she has donewith choreographer Ohad Naharin).

After graduating Shenkar in 2000, Eizenberg worked for two years asa designer of women's clothes for Haya Nir at Katomenta, which atthe time won the Israel Fashion Award twice in a row. Afterward shewent with Rom to Milan, where he had been accepted to continue hisstudies. "We knew that it would be helpful to me, too, but by thetime I submitted a request to do an internship in a fashion housethere, it was somewhat late," she says.

Eizenberg used the years in Italy to study on her own, and alsosold her designs in shops in Milan. "In Italy there is no conceptof young designers. All the shops carry well-known brands, theyoungest being Dries Van Noten. In two places they liked what I didand allowed me to make clothes and sell them in their shops. Ibegan to create a collection under the name Alla Liebersohn withlabels I had left over from my final project in Shenkar."

About three years ago, when she returned to Israel, Eizenberg begancreating her first collection, which was sold at the radical commeil faut shop in Tel Aviv. "It was flattering that they wanted todisplay my clothes there because it's a fashion house with veryhigh standards. But it's not the most suitable place for me to beexposed to a male clientele."

About two years ago, Nir offered her the top floor of her store onDizengoff Street, from which she worked until recently. At presentin her own store, Eizenberg is launching her sixth collection, andalso provides custom-made designing and sewing. She imports the fabrics personally from Italy and Japan. "I asked the fabricimporters here to order for me and they said that it didn't pay forthem, just as it doesn't pay to sew my clothes. I had to go to theseamstresses' homes and teach them."

She continues to sell at Katomenta and in stores in Milan andAntwerp, and plans eventually to expand to exports: "I always feelthat there's more potential in Europe, because everyone wears abutton-down shirt - from 17-year-old boys to bank employees."

Eizenberg can point to the precise moment when she decided to be afashion designer: "When I was 17, there was a show of thedesigners' collection at the Hamashbir Lazarchan department store,and it was amazing. I knew for certain that I had to be there, buton the other side of the runway."

The perfectionism and high standards that are reflected in MaisonRouge clothes are an integral part of her personality: "Everyonesays that I'm a 'Nazi,' that everything I do is measured by themillimeter," she testifies. In her childhood she did a lot ofneedlework - embroidery, knitting and sewing stuffed animals. "Ialways really wanted to create work with a high level of finishing,so it would be very precise. It's just important to me; if I don'tachieve such a level then I prefer not to do it at all."

The designer also knows how to appreciate the education shereceived in the former Soviet Union: "I studied in an elementaryschool in Ukraine where the emphasis was on mathematics andphysics, and of course good Jewish children were the majority. Asmuch as I wanted to get math over with, it helped me a great dealin fashion design, even in terms of my way of thinking. I believethat design, as opposed to art, has a purpose: In the finalanalysis we have to create a product, and we have to meetperformance standards. Designing is very mathematical, designing abell skirt is like calculating the radius of a circle.

"The Russians in Israel quickly learned to take shortcuts. I don'twant to get into the question of whether it's a local problem, butthere are few people for whom it's important that the work beperfect. In the schools of fashion design there are many studentswho say, 'I don't have to know how to draw, someone else will drawfor me. I don't have to know how to sew, someone else will sew forme.' But if you don't know how to do these things, how will youknow what to demand, how will you know if the pattern-maker youhave chosen is good? A good designer knows how to do everythingalone: Alexander McQueen, Hedi Slimane - they have assistants, butthey know how to cut and where exactly to stick in the pin."

'Too many buttons'

Although the design and production of men's clothing is not acommercially viable idea in Israel because of the small size of themarket, from the time she was at Shenkar Eizenberg knew that waswhat she wanted to do. But she had to wait. There was only onecourse that dealt with men's clothing, and none at all abouttailored menswear.

Eizenberg: "I felt it was a whole other world of knowledge:different technologies, a different approach. I didn't find peoplein Israel who could teach me that very precise professionalknowledge, who could explain to me how to make the collar, how toreach the corners. I was very interested in learning these thingsbecause designing for men requires restraint: Any superfluous stepimmediately turns into over-designing. You have to maintain theright proportions, weight and details."

In Italy, Eizenberg visited tailors' workshops and acquired theknowledge she felt was lacking. "There's a neighborhood of tailorswhere we were, and it's amazing to watch them work. I used to go toall kinds of places just to see the tools, the styles, thetechniques. In some places they only let me look; in others theyallowed me to do something, too."

Her uniqueness and daring are reflected mainly in the comeback sheis helping to spearhead in terms of the image of the tailor. "Thisprofession, men's tailoring, is gradually disappearing. In Israelit barely exists any longer. I was forced to teach seamstresses howto make jackets. You have to be familiar with the technology andhave good manual skills. It's very hard to find people who haveboth."

In spite of the technical difficulties, however, Eizenberg believesthat the tailored look for men will return: "Since the mid-1990s,the large fashion houses have opened lines for men's clothing, andseveral independent designers have started out and becomesuccessful. Dior-Homme began in 2000; Raf Simons in 1995; Prada hashad a men's fashion line since the late 1990s. In the United Statesthere has been a real wave of men's clothing designers in recentyears: Patrik Ervell, Thom Browne, Adam Kimmel. Something verysignificant is happening, there's something in the air, and it hasbeen developing in Israel, too, along with international fashion."

You have to be very optimistic to try to bring back to Israel atradition that was imported in the first place.

Eizenberg: "In Europe and the U.S., tailored clothing neverdisappeared. The birthplace of this profession was in Italy andEngland - two different schools in terms of shaping the body andproportions. There is also the French school with the French cuffand all kinds of collars. The approach there is based on eleganceand chic, and the emphases are different.

"Since the 1970s there has been a move toward an emphasis oncomfort in fashion, the idea that an item of clothing has to becomfortable and shouldn't restrict movement, and that idea has alsospread to mass-produced tailoring. It's true that in a tailoredshirt or a jacket, you can't wave your arms around, but you aren'tsupposed to do that in such clothes anyway."

The designer who has influenced her most is French-Tunisiandesigner Hedi Slimane. The man who started a new men's line for theDior fashion house and then left is a kind of rock star, whobrought a young and wild spirit to high-quality haute couture. "Onthe one hand it's punk, and on the other hand it's so elegant - hebrings it to levels where the roughness of youth combined with chiccreate something new and amazing in terms of beauty and strength,"she says.

Eizenberg creates styles ranging from small to extra-large, andalso sews to order. She leaves pant cuffs unsewn until customerstry them on. The level of finishing is very high, and she does notmake life easy for herself with her complex styling. "Manycustomers say that there are too many buttons," she says. "Nowadayspeople are not familiar with this business of a concealed innerbutton."

Now go explain all this to the average Israeli customer, like theone who entered the store during the interview and didn'tunderstand the difference in price between a tailored Maison Rougebutton-down shirt and button-down shirt from Zara.W