When she woke up, Li Xiulan, the technical pacesetter in the textile factory, became Li Xiulan, a laid-off female worker. The iron rice bowl is broken, the husband is stuck in the workplace, the children are about to go to school, and the neighbors in the family compound who are usually friendly now have pity and a trace of indescribable schadenfreude in their eyes. Bad news: She can't do anything but make clothes. In the 1990s, when "really good" things were beginning to go out of fashion, and Hong Kong-style bell-bottoms and bodybuilding pants were everywhere, her workwear skills, which she was proud of, seemed to have become the tears of the times. Good news: She... Seems like she only needs to be able to make clothes? While her former workers were still worrying about hundreds of yuan in severance pay, Li Xiulan had already set up her own small sewing machine at the door of the vegetable market. It costs fifty cents to change the lining of the neighbor's aunt's cotton-padded jacket. Help a fashionable girl change her trouser legs into the most popular bell mouth, one piece. Cut a fashionable suit for the newlyweds, fifty. From the home-made mending business to "Sister Lan's customization" leading the trend in the small town, Li Xiu... Lan's tailor shop has become one of the warmest and liveliest locations in the ever-changing landscape of the 1990s. Some people were jealous that she had become one of the first "ten thousand-yuan households" and said sourly: "I'm just a sewing machine worker, how can I have a big future?" Li Xiulan didn't even raise her head, the scissors in her hand clicked, and a piece of ordinary fabric gradually took on a soul under her hands. She not only wants to make clothes, but also wants to make her own brand. From self-employed individuals to township enterprises, from the wave of laid-off workers from state-owned enterprises to the wave of entrepreneurship belonging to small people, she used every stitch to achieve success.
