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

Irene Reichenberg is the first figure to appear in the book. Born in 1922 in Bratislava, Czechoslovakia, she met and befriended Bracha when both were children. Her knowledge of dressmaking—along with her acquaintance with Marta Fuchs, whose sister had married Irene’s brother—proved invaluable during her imprisonment.

Unlike Bracha, Irene is portrayed as a pessimist (or realist) who frequently became mired in the hopelessness of her circumstances at Auschwitz. She often reminded her friends that “the only way out of [Auschwitz] was through the chimney” (137). Two of Irene’s sisters died in the camp, after which she wavered between bouts of despair in which she considered suicide and insistence that she would not give in. Like others, she suffered illness while in the camp, but she was cared for physically and emotionally by her friends—Bracha in particular. Securing a position at the Upper Tailoring Studio bolstered Irene’s resolve, instilling in her for the first time the belief that she might live to see the war’s end: “Thanks to the semi-civilized conditions in the Upper Tailoring Studio, she no longer felt reduced to the lowly status of a number without a name” (227).

Post-war, Irene reunited with her brother, Laci Reichenberg. She married in 1956; her husband, also a survivor, experienced such intense paranoia throughout the remainder of his life that Irene described their marriage as “a second Auschwitz” (291). He ultimately died by suicide and Irene emigrated to Israel, forced again to cope with loss and tragedy. Though she had her prisoner tattoo removed, in the latter part of her life she focused on studying the Holocaust and the ideology that fueled the Nazis and their antisemitism. As Adlington portrays her, she was an intelligent and capable individual whose traumas never fully healed, but who nevertheless desired to make sense of her experiences.

Hedwig was born Erna Martha Hedwig Hensel in 1908, but the book provides little information concerning her life before her marriage to Auschwitz-Birkenau commandant Rudolf Höss. Hedwig’s love of fashion, however, emerges in the description of her wedding dress. Like Rudolf, Hedwig was committed to several ideals touted in Hitler’s Mein Kampf—namely, its idealization of agricultural life. Establishing a family and living an agrarian life became the Hösses’ goal.

The home the couple occupied at Auschwitz was a testament to Hedwig’s taste in the finest furnishings and art. Surrounded by lush gardens, Hedwig insisted she “wanted to live [there] until [she] died” (172)—an eerie irony given that the home was situated in the middle of the death camp. Though she did much of the cooking herself, Hedwig’s life at Auschwitz was largely free of stress or toil due to the prisoner servants who tended her gardens, cared for her children, and maintained her home. That she felt no guilt in enjoying a paradise while thousands suffered and died around her paints her as harsh and unfeeling.

As the wife of a commandant, Hedwig occupied a role of prestige and esteem. Her elegant clothing not only displayed her knowledge of the latest fashions but was necessary to maintain the impression of a successful “Aryan” wife—a testament to The Politics of Clothing. She was tasked with hosting and entertaining dignitaries and creating an air of hospitality.

Hedwig’s antisemitism was unmistakable, and evidence of Jewish humanity proved difficult for Hedwig to reconcile with what she had been taught. She is recorded as saying to Marta Fuchs: “You work quickly and well. How is that possible? After all, Jews are parasites and con artists” (197). By the same token, other inmates who labored in her household reported Hedwig could be kind, gifting them food and similar luxuries not afforded ordinary prisoners. Yet Hedwig could hardly have missed the deaths carried out daily at Auschwitz.

Though Hedwig’s establishment of the Upper Tailoring Studio increased the Hösses’ wealth, this was lost upon the war’s end. Hedwig had to testify at trial in the 1960s; she denied the existence of the gas chambers and spent the subsequent years avoiding any discussion of the atrocities. A complicated figure until her life’s end, she struck one grandson as “a real lady” and another as tyrannical. Hedwig died in 1989 at age 81.

Born in 1918, Marta Fuchs was the sister of Turul Fuchs, who married Irene’s brother, Laci Reichenberg. She was acquainted with Irene and Bracha through their school in Bratislava; the other girls immediately looked up to Marta for her friendly and warm nature. She then completed a two-year training to become a dressmaker.

Marta arrived in Auschwitz in April 1942 and was initially assigned to be a domestic servant for Hedwig Höss. Here she interacted closely with both Hedwig and her children. Adlington conveys the complexity of this position by noting,

Marta had to balance a dual role of service and subterfuge. On the one hand, her work was valued, and she was a familiar face in the house; on the other hand, she knew from bitter experience how prisoners suffered in the camps, and she was determined to use her own protected position to help others (197).

Marta’s resourcefulness and resolve are a constant throughout the text: She quickly recognized that Hedwig’s trust put her in a unique position to not only save her own life, but those of her friends. She used her frequent trips to Kanada as opportunities to make connections and gain knowledge, becoming an instrumental member of the camp’s underground resistance. Marta’s daring and determination are clear in her decision to escape from the group during the death march, while the backpack that deflected the bullet that could have killed her reminds readers that survival also required luck.

Adlington portrays Marta as fiercely loyal—a trait that drove her to secure seamstress positions for her friends but also kept her from speaking out against the Hösses post-war. Her role as kapo demonstrated her leadership skills: Rather than a disciplinarian, she was a mother-figure and a source of security to her fellow inmates, “one of those [kapos] who used her privileged prison status to secure relative safety and dignity for the women of [the] work squad” (114-15).

Once the war was over, Marta remained an entrepreneur, opening her own salon in Czechoslovakia and inviting many of the same women to become employees. She continued sewing throughout her life, telling family, “Sewing saved my life, so I won’t do anything else” (301).