It was a women’s work shirt.
Lena smiled and reset the machine.
Lena traced the label she’d just sewn into the neck: Iron Veil.
She’d started with her own measurements, then her sister’s (a diesel mechanic), then her neighbor’s (a paramedic). She’d borrowed a garage, a secondhand industrial machine, and a belief that no woman should have to choose between safety and fit.
It was a women’s work shirt.
Lena smiled and reset the machine.
Lena traced the label she’d just sewn into the neck: Iron Veil. work shirt women
She’d started with her own measurements, then her sister’s (a diesel mechanic), then her neighbor’s (a paramedic). She’d borrowed a garage, a secondhand industrial machine, and a belief that no woman should have to choose between safety and fit. It was a women’s work shirt
