My Own Words: The New Factory
Practices and Politics of Cooperative in Bandung
Bag collection from the ‘Off the Roll’ series. Image courtesy of TNFS.
Our studio is never silent. The rhythm of sewing machines rises and falls, punctuated by discussions on patterns, stitches, what works and what does not. Then comes the shuffle of fabric being examined, chosen, cut. On the table, deadstock sheets lie like forgotten maps, each holding a story of what could have been, and what might still become.
TNFS grew out of a shared refusal to accept the pace at which fashion produces waste and disposes of labour. It reflects the practices and politics of The New Factory, our worker-owned cooperative, based in the textile heartland of Indonesia. We first organised as fashion workers coming together to find new ways to regain control over our livelihoods, after a wave of industry lay-offs in our region. What began as an act of survival has grown way beyond: we now work with textile waste of many forms, repurposing, transforming and reimagining them into upcycled fashion and functional goods, and breaking them down for use in entirely new ways.
“What began as an act of survival has grown way beyond: we now work with textile waste of many forms, repurposing, transforming and reimagining them into upcycled fashion and functional goods, and breaking them down for use in entirely new ways.”
TNFS is our first foray into a retail label. It is a space where we explore what retail fashion could look like when it is intended to hold care, aesthetic integrity, and critique all at once.
“Off The Roll”: TNFS First Collection
One of the shops in Cigondewah that sells leftover garment accessories. Image courtesy of TNFS.
Our work began in Cigondewah, a neighbourhood in Bandung where fabric shops line the streets and piles of discarded offcuts are gathered. These leftovers come from nearby factories: ends of rolls, misprints, and irregular cuts left behind after production. They are often sold by weight to small-scale traders who sort, resell, or distribute them to local shops. Sometimes, buried in these piles, we find real gems, such as high-quality fabric that did not make it into production. At the onset of our sourcing, most of the heavy lifting (literally!) lies in hauling, sorting, and sifting through this chaos.
It was from this chaos that ‘Off The Roll’ emerged, our first collection led by Gaea Arctic, TNFS’ principal designer. As a fashion designer, Gaea grew increasingly unsettled by the sheer volume of waste churned out by brands. Fabrics over-ordered “just in case”, or rejected due to last-minute design changes, then left unused, discarded, or burned. “Sustainability” labels often masked a practice still driven by speed, volume, and disposability. That disillusionment became a turning point, both professionally and creatively. She stepped away not just to reject the pace of the industry but to explore a different way of designing. Slower, more intentional, and grounded in material responsibility.
For Gaea, designing with such a paradigm poses a creative challenge. How do you make work that holds aesthetic clarity while staying within the limits of what is available? What does it mean to balance form and constraint, vision and affordability, and pushing against the rush of trend cycles without losing touch with what makes a garment desirable?
Every piece used only black-and-white deadstock, partly out of practicality, given what was available, but also to create focused, timeless silhouettes that supported our aesthetic vision.
Styling for the TNFS photoshoot was done by Gaea. Image courtesy of TNFS.
Fabric scarcity, of course, meant constant improvisation. A roll could vanish overnight. A confirmed design might need reworking. But we learned not to fight the fabric. As Gaea says, “The real challenge isn’t just finding the right material. It is learning to work with whatever exists.” It’s a philosophy that sits at the heart of our studio: respond, don’t replicate. Create with what is left behind.
Beyond Design
While ‘Off The Roll’ began as a design provocation, it was also shaped through decisions made across the studio. Production, pricing, storytelling, and delivery weren’t simply a routine step but also points of negotiation. Each step raised questions about trade-offs, limits, and what we were willing to stand by. The collection came together through creative direction, as well as the practical work of making those decisions.
TNFS’s debut collection, ‘Off The Roll’. From left to right: pleats shirt, wavy bag, diagonal skirt, button vest. Images courtesy of TNFS.
Production is where many of those decisions play out in real-time. Ranti Meranita, who leads this work, spent over a decade working in garment factories, mostly in sewing lines and later as a supervisor. For TNFS, she draws on her experience to manage shifting production needs and anticipates bottlenecks. Handling cutting is perhaps the most challenging task. Our team often works with fabrics that are misaligned, incomplete, or only available in small amounts. There is no cutting marker that fits perfectly, and every layout has to be adapted.
Behind the scenes of the Ropes Bag making process—featuring metal eyelets for added strength and detail. Image courtesy of TNFS.
As every piece goes through small tests and adjustments before a batch can move forward, our process relies less on fixed procedures. No one step can be fully standardised. That is why the skills needed in producing upcycled pieces lies not only in execution, but also in reading the conditions, knowing when to adjust, and doing so without losing consistency.
The business side is no less dynamic. In fact, this is often where our commitments are most directly tested. Design changes mid-process when fabric runs short can consequently shifting timelines. These shifts carry a cost, whether it is that the fabric becomes more expensive or that labour hours stretch. But it is precisely in these chaos that we have found some of our most important learning.
Some of our most defining decisions also have come through debate. Can we actually support a packaging take-back scheme with the resources we have? Is this price margin still fair, or are we edging toward the very logic we mean to resist? We realise that these questions do not ultimately have clean answers. They would take iteration and adjustment over time, hopefully for our following collections. But if anything, working on TNFS has taught us to stay with the complexity and not to smooth it over.
For us, TNFS is more than about making clothes. It is about shaping a different way of doing things. We want to build something that makes sense to us, that remembers where things come from, who is behind them, and what usually gets left out. If we can do that, maybe we can help make space for a future where fashion creates less waste and work that comes with more dignity.
For more information, visit thenew-factory.com.
The essay is presented in partnership with The New Factory.