Queensland-based designer Masayo Yasuki reveals the impact of Queensland's recent floods on her business.
When I began designing our autumn/winter 2011 collection in 2010, I wrote some words of inspiration on my sketchpad. They began: “the clash of manmade built environments and created spaces against natural forces…”. The collection was given the title ‘Panic Attack’. How accurate this name was to become.
Our South Brisbane based workroom is housed in a large, open warehouse-style space, with offices at the front and production at the back, enabling us to facilitate the creation of all garments locally. A decade of fabrics and patterns are hung on a mezzanine level and suspended shelving.
Flood predictions began filtering through early in the week, but the flooded creek near my home in the semi-rural south-west region of Brisbane had isolated my house, making it impossible for me to reach the workroom and begin the evacuation process until Wednesday morning. These were probably my most stressful moments; having experienced minor flooding in the past, I knew our building would not come out unscathed should the waters reach the height of the flood of 1974 – and I could not do anything about it.
When I stepped into the workroom on Wednesday morning, the water was up to my ankles and the power had been cut. In the dull light, I surveyed the fabric archives, rolls for our autumn/winter collection, furniture, sewing machines and massive cutting tables. I felt overwhelmed. For a moment, a sense of defeat swept over me and I thought it would all be lost; there was no way we could move all of this to safer ground in time.
Within moments, people started arriving; staff and their families, friends and their friends – people I didn’t event know were wading through the rapidly-rising water, lifting our precious fabrics in their arms and hoisting machines and furniture out onto higher ground on the street.
Knowing we would not have long before we would have to evacuate, we prioritised the items in order of their immediate importance to the functioning of the company; the materials for Panic Attack were the first to be saved. With the water now thigh-high, I reached for my sketchpad, which was opened to the A/W inspiration page. I took a moment to read the rest of the inspiration “… reference to the harshness of our built environment in the city against the flowing, accommodating way that nature fills spaces”.
Within hours, the slowly rising water turned into a strong current rushing through the doorway, pushing furniture and causing us to begin evacuation. However as we began to leave, it slowed down and again commenced its unhurried, peaceful rise. Knowing the flood would peak in the early hours of Thursday morning, we remained at the workroom until 8pm on Wednesday night, by which time the brown, smelly liquid was lapping at our chests in the darkness. Even still, my friend Hugh and his partner Kahori, Andre, Daniel, Naomi and Orla continued to brave the waters to salvage every last piece of fabric and equipment they could reach.
When the sun rose on Thursday morning, the water had submerged 1.8 meters of the vast space. Where the water receded, it left a foot-thick layer of tar-like sludge. About 35 per cent of our fabrics had been lost; predominately archived textiles, patterns and designs we had accumulated over the 10 years. Our office space was destroyed along with furniture and appliances that could not be removed before the water submerged them. Unfortunately our standard business insurance did not cover us for flood.
Within hours, the workroom was full of friends, family, staff and complete strangers offering assistance; from lugging enormous water-logged signs out to the street, through to ripping up carpet or delivering home-baked food and water to feed the army of volunteers. The sheer energy of these people converted the mud-covered building into a clean, stripped space within 48 hours.
In many ways we feel incredibly lucky; we did not lose our homes or any loved ones in the flood. We will rebuild our production operations. I have been overwhelmed by the generosity of other Brisbane designers who have come forward offering assistance and resources, such as Deanne Mayocchi and Sasha Drake. We have been assisted and supported by an incredible group of people; and we’ve seen our community unite in the positive, hardworking and humble way that reminds us all of why it is so wonderful to live and work here. To everyone who helped (far too many to recount here), I thank you so much and when we are resettled we will be having a party to celebrate your efforts.
As I write this, the saved contents of our workroom are scattered throughout Brisbane, in storage, in the homes of friends, in the garages of staff and helpers who, in the frenetic evacuation process, let us place machines, benches and computers in their cars and vans. With the destruction and loss behind us, we have turned our focus to the job of recommencing production. Our building will be uninhabitable for several months, so within 48 hours of the water receding, we began a search for a short-term workroom location.
“The clash of manmade built environments and created spaces against natural forces”; the flood has given me a unique insight into what it looks and feels like when the two collide. When Panic Attack hits the racks of our stores and the 70 stockists across Australia and New Zealand, it will mean so much more than we ever expected it would, and it’s my hope that everyone can see it as a reminder of the unbelievable powers of the earth that we must cherish and respect.
For more on how the crisis has impacted fashion retailers, pick up a copy of Ragtrader's January 28 and February 11 editions.