A Faith

IN TIME
By: Rania
 I looked out the window.
The sky was tar-black and
the large clouds were
moving towards me. I
heard a tapping on the
window and then it became
a pitter-patter. Raindrops
whooshing as the heaven
opened. Puddles began
plinking as the rainfall
became heavier.

It was raining in Saumur, France in 1902 on a dark afternoon. I knew this day would come,
my mother's 31st birthday. My mother who could only lie weak in bed suffering from
bronchitis which slowly damaged her lung passages. I was just a girl they called Gabrielle,
who came from a poor family, in a small village. We could only celebrate my mother's
birthday by eating a meal together. She tried to eat haltingly. A mother who had to take
care of her five children herself with a sick condition while her husband had to go out of
town to sell cloth, she had to bear a big burden to support us.

After I finished eating, I left my mother to rest. But afterwards, I realized that I made a big
mistake in my life, I should have stayed by her side because right at sunset when the sky
was getting dark accompanied by heavy rain, I tried to wake her up, but all I saw was a
blue body with a calm face as if all her burdens and sufferings had disappeared. In
disbelief, I touched her cold icy body and tried to wake her up while screaming
hysterically calling her name.

I was silent for a long time, sobbing. How could “he” take the people I love without having
the chance to say goodbye. With tear marks on my face and trembling hands, I caressed
my mother's face with the affection I never conveyed while she was alive. I whispered a
thank you that I didn't have time to say to her. I held her cold hand, now whispers of
thanks and caresses of affection no longer has any meaning, she never knew I loved her.

But there was nothing I could do, she had left her five children to live without affection.
Birthdays that are supposed to bring happiness, yet bring the loss of the people I loved.
Without realizing it, my mother's 31st birthday turned out to be her last birthday. I could
only hold his hand saying goodbye for the last time.
 The day had passed, the rising sun cast a rosy hue across
the morning sky. Golden fingers of sunlight lit up the
scene. A sight that should be beautiful to look at, but with a
sense of loss lingering in my heart, nothing else looked
attractive to my eyes. That morning I had to try to be strong
for my siblings while looking at the burial of my mother.
Even though my father was not there to accompany us, I
could only look blankly and wept a silent tear.

My sadness did not stop there, with my mother gone, my father decided to
leave me and my sister at the orphanage, while my brothers were left on a
farm to be adopted. At that time, I was just a poor 12-year-old girl who was
abandoned by her father in an orphanage. But I had to accept reality and try
to fight through that ordeal. My heart ached to see my sister sitting there
alone, misery was written all over her face.

From that dawn, I had to face the harsh life at the orphanage. We are
accustomed to getting up very early and helping the nuns before school. We
were also accustomed to making embroidery and sewing crafts. Even though
I didn't have any difficulties, I found it difficult to take sewing classes, my
fingers were always pricked by needles while sewing, it made the other kids
mock me. Even though it was annoying, that made me close to them, because
they were the only ones who accompanied me in trouble while in the
orphanage.

During those six years, I spent time learning many things at the orphanage.
There were countless hardships I had faced, but it was equivalent to the
beautiful memories I made there. Right on my 18th birthday, I had to leave the
orphanage and learn to live independently armed with the skills I got from
the orphanage.

With my sewing skills, I was offered a job sewing clothes with my aunt who
was only one year older than me, named Adrienne. I was also known for my
melodious voice. In my free time ,I would be singing at the café, mostly
consisting of war soldiers seeking consolation.
 But I began to feel the
bitterness of reality. Now
the cost of living was
getting more expensive,
the rent for boarding was
soaring, but my income
had not increased. Even
though I worked harder
every day, I couldn’t pay
for my living expenses in
the city. Worse, with loud
yelling and bad treatment
I was kicked out of my
boarding house.

Racked by sobs, I hurriedly packed my clothes. Now my life was like a black hole
of emotion where not a single ray of hope can escape. Out of nowhere, I found a
diary with a red cover that looked very shabby with wet pages and faded ink. I
never remember writing a diary since I was little, but I hurriedly put it in my bag
and reluctantly left.

I quickened my pace as the clouds began to gather in the sky. Up to now, the sky
had been postcard-perfect, but it was changing. The beautiful ocean-blue shade
was beginning to darken into gravel-grey. Large pillows of clouds were forming,
blotting out the old-gold color of the sun. I got the first splatter of rain when I was
halfway across the busy city. I took shelter under an old-style cafe, hoping that
someone would help. Droplets of moisture began to drip from the roof. Then the
rainfall became more intense.

On that cold night, I sat in one of the chairs facing the street. I saw the bustle of
the city at night, people passing by in front of me. I thought back to the book with
the red cover that mysteriously appeared in my closet. I tried to read the first page
of that old book.
 Thursday, May 11, 1909
I met my hero.
The night sky was aglow with bright city light.
On a cold night, I sat looking at the busy city,
small lights shining flickering in the distance.

The silence was stopped when a handsome

young man greeted me. He kindly asked me my
name, where I live, and why I stay here. I was
touched, when other people ignored me, he was
here to ask how I was. I can't help it, my
tears trickled down my face.

I tried to answer but I was choked by tears.

He calmed me down, and I told him everything.
He took me to his mansion, he said I could stay
there for a while until I could find a place to
live.

With all my heart, I thanked him. He is my

hero, reminding me that there will be hope for
those who believe.
I was very surprised to read this diary, the date written on it was the same date
as that day, the writing was exactly the same as my handwriting. The author of
this diary was also enjoying a cold, rainy night. In disbelief at this coincidence, I
reread the page, it seemed the writer was having a hard time and was being
helped by a handsome young man.
She's very lucky, that's what came to my mind. I was pensive again realizing my
life seemed to be covered by hundreds of layers of life bitterness that slowly
covered my identity. I tried to remove the coating but hundreds more came
over me.
My reverie was interrupted by a youth's friendly greeting. He asked me what
my name was, and I answered it in confusion. He said my name was Gabrielle?
He said My name was beautiful, and he was not surprised I was beautiful too.
This was the first time I was made to be blushed by a man. Again, I thought,
why suddenly a handsome man greeted me. He asked why I looked gloomy all
this time.
I looked at him with mixed feelings. Somehow, I felt very touched, I greeted him
back. He said that I seemed to be having a hard time. He looked trustworthy, so
I told him what happened to me. He kindly offered me to stay temporarily at his
house, while looking for a solution to my problem. After I became acquainted, I
found out that his name was Arthur, he was a polo player nobility. Since I had
no place to sleep that night, I accepted his offer.
From that day on I lived in his mansion which was enormous, as time, we got
closer. He introduced me to his noble friends and invited me to their tea party.
Honestly, I had no interest in aristocratic activities, in my spare time I liked to
make decorations in hats, armed with my sewing skills taught in my old
orphanage.
One day I wore a white lacy hat
with red roses surrounding it. I
put some pearls on the flowers
to make it look classy. Arthur
and I attended a tea party
which was attended by many
famous aristocrats, and a group
of young women suddenly
came over to me. They asked
where I bought the hat.
Confused, I just answered I
made it myself. They seemed
interested in my hat and asked
if I can make it for them, I could
only agree.
 So, I started to make a business of women's hats with classy decorations and
also very light so that they were comfortable to wear unlike the hats of
noblewomen. It made the nobles love my hat and promoted my hat to their
friends. Sometimes I enjoyed this attention. However, my hat business only
lasted six months, every day the pressures from Arthur controlled my life. I
was constantly forced to learn the manners of a noble, always invited to join
tea parties and such. I could not stand the pressure and coercion, I decided to
leave his house.

The night before, I thought back to the red cover diary that I found one year
previously, so I decided to continue reading it.

Tuesday, October 15, 1910

Life goes on.

I guess I 'll be forever happy living with Arthur, the young man who one
year ago helped me in trouble. But I can't stand how he controls me to be
the girl he wants to have. Pressure and Coercion continue to exist in my
life.

I decided to leave him. Without direction, I went to the dock and boarded
the ship that was leaving that morning. I don't care where the ship is
going, I just want to take a break from the bitterness of the life that is
chasing me. With strong intentions, I started my journey.

The light of dawn seeped into my room. I rubbed my bleary eyes and
walked to the window. There was a pearly glow in the sky. After one
month of traveling, I came to a place where thousands of lined green
islands separated by a sea as wide as my eye can see. My boat is
anchored on an island where from a distance I can see the big ships are
busy unloading their cargo. They called this city the city of Batavia.
 Whether this was a coincidence or not, all the incidents that I experienced
were written in the diary. Even the date in the diary is exactly tomorrow.
Sometimes it crossed my mind maybe this was a diary that I wrote from the
future, but it seemed that was impossible. One thing that I believe is that I had
to start my journey in a city far away.

So, I decided to leave Arthur and go to the docks the next day. And lucky for
me, the schedule for departure to the city of Batavia was that morning. With
thousands of plans raging in my head, I stepped onto the ship awaiting my
next journey.

The sun poured through my window. Another day had dawned, bringing with
it new hopes and aspirations. As the diary said, the first thing I saw from my
window was thousands of islands stretched out in a sea as blue as the spring
sky. This moment captured my mind forever.

I was greeted with the sound of the horn of the ship that was preparing to sail,
and the bustle of the Dutch who were loading the big ships, and the local
people who were their laborers.

A group of local traders could be seen lining up selling mouth watering fruits.
The women with big flower buns on their heads and colorful patterned fabrics
were seen holding hands with their children who also wore various patterns of
cloth with Jepun flowers between their ears. While the men looked dashing,
wearing white cloth with gold patterns as their subordinates. Men could be
seen carrying carts with spices piled up. With the money I raised from my hat
business, I rented a small house in the middle of town.
Everyday I tried to learn Indonesian with a book
given by a ship crew when I got off the ship.
Now I can speak simple Indonesian which could
help me adapt here. I didn't know what I was
going to do there, so I went back to seek
guidance from the diary that I always kept in
my bag. The book had always been a guide for
my life if I didn’t know where to go.
 Saturday, November 16, 1910
Waking dream.
This is the best choice of my life. I choose the right city.
Batavia has many unique cultures hidden in a small town there.
For one week I went to the small village there to observe their
culture. The first time I met the local people, I was shocked at
how simple their clotheswere.

The difference between the dress culture in Batavia and

France was enormous. This makes me interested in learning
more. My passion and desire to make a change in fashion
makes me excited to be myself again.

This is my biggest dream.

 It looked like the writer had started to get her enthusiasm and hope back,
that’s what crossed my mind after reading the diary. I got a lot of plans for
the future. With enthusiasm, I went to the small village there to have a
deeper look at the way the local people of Batavia dressed.

Honestly, when I first came to this city, people looked at my clothes in

surprise. Maybe I look completely different from them. The white dress I
wore with the flower hat that sat pretty on my head looked very weird for
them. With amazement, I also noticed the clothes worn by the residents
there.

After getting to know the residents there, I just found out that there are
many castes there such as aristocrats, knights, and ordinary citizens. The way
of dressing for each caste is also different, I was very interested in seeing
how the nobles dressed, so I paid a visit to a bigger city there. You can see
the nobles there riding horse-drawn carriages, while the commoners work as
laborers or sell fruit and vegetables.

The clothing of the nobles looked very different from the clothes of the
common people. The nobles wore a patterned fabric made of a subordinate
and a white cloth as the top. The boys were seen carrying small swords on
their backs, after which I just found out it was called Kris. Meanwhile, the
women used a long cloth wrapped around their waist and wore a flower bun
in their hair.

I realized the big opportunity for me to design clothes here. Judging from
the simplicity of the clothes of the residents there, I plan to open a boutique
and design simple clothes inspired by fashion in France and sell them at
affordable prices for the citizens and nobles.

Inspired by the simplicity of their clothes, I started designing women's

clothes that are comfortable to wear every day in hot weather. Every day I
took the time to take a walk in the surrounding gardens to pay attention to
the people passing by for inspiration.
 One afternoon, I sat on a lawn chair. As I sat
silently, I looked at the sky, which slowly
changed like a colorful paint spill. That
afternoon I was lucky, no clouds were covering
the evening sky. I saw a group of birds flying
high in a triangular formation, the sound of
birds chirping on a branch was very beautiful
accompanied by the cold air piercing my skin. I
tightened my coat with my cold blue fingers.

The pine trees swayed in the wind as if they were dancing together enjoying the
beauty of twilight. Not many residents were passing by in the park today, maybe they
were enjoying their free time to rest at home after working hard before. The city was
still very new, in the park, there were no street lights at all, so at 6 pm, the park was
very dark. So, I hurried up and got ready to go home.

But my activities stopped when I heard a loud crash hitting the floor as someone had
fallen. In the darkness of the park, I tried to find the source of the sound. When I
looked at the edge of the park pond, a woman sat on the ground looked in pain, and
her sales were scattered on the ground. I immediately helped her up and collected the
fruit she sold and gave it to her. The woman could not stand straight. After I noticed, it
turned out that her knee was badly injured. I tried to ask her if she is okay with the
simple Indonesian which I learned since living here for 6 months.

I offered her a break to sit on a park bench while I treated the wound. At first, she
refused, after I persuaded her that her wound should be treated immediately, she
finally agreed. Under the building lights in the garden, I helped her clean her wounds
with the antiseptic I always took with me. After she calmed down, I tried to ask her
name. She answered that her name was Eli while looking at me in wonder.

I asked her why she was in the garden so late. She said that her father was very sick
and needed medicine, but the cost was not enough so she had to sell late in the park.
Her tired face looked very sad. I asked again, why did she fall. She replied that the
kemben or cloth as her subordinate was so tight that she could only walk with small
steps.

After hearing her story, out of nowhere the idea suddenly emerged to make clothes
with wide subordinates so that women could walk comfortably. Thousands of designs
that I wanted to make came up in my head. But if I want to make a boutique, I have to
have employees who are skilled in sewing. Eli looked at me who fell silent for a long
time in wonder, she patted my shoulder. I regained consciousness while coming up
with an idea to make her my employee. So, I asked if she could sew. She said that she
was taught sewing from a young age by her mother, she said that she was quite good
at sewing. So, I excitedly offered her to be my employee and told her my plans to
open a boutique. At first, she was hesitant, but after I persuaded that she also needed
money for her father's medicine, she immediately agreed.
 Since then, Eli has helped me start designing women's
clothing that was comfortable to wear with fabrics that
absorb sweat so that women will be comfortable wearing
them in hot weather. My first design was finally finished. A
button-up top with short sleeves, a collar with neckties, a
triangular chest piece, and two pockets underneath.

For the subordinates, I designed a knee-length skirt with a slightly tight model
from hip to thigh and wide from thigh to the knee. The tight skirt above would
fit a woman's leg shape and look more modern, but of course, I designed a skirt
that didn’t make it difficult for women to walk. I used the rubber around the
thighs of the skirt to fit the various shapes of women's legs. For the bottom
skirt, I designed it into a ruffle pencil end skirt.

I started looking for sweat-absorbing fabrics at a fabric shop nearby.

Luckily for me, they sold plain white Paris fabrics that are famous for
being soft and absorbent. As for the skirt, I used plaid patterned cloth.
For one-week Eli and I started sewing the clothing. The topcoat turned
out very pretty.
But I had a hard time sewing the skirt. The plaid cloth
turned out to have a rough surface, so it could not be sewn
and molded. I returned to the cloth shop, but could not
find a plaid cloth which was breathable and soft, but there
was one plaid cloth which was breathable and quite soft.
The problem is that the cloth is commonly used for men's
clothing. After considering it, I made a bold decision. I was
going to make a skirt with men's fabric.
 After one month finally my first outfit was finished with fifty more sets.
Eli and I were busy decorating the boutique that I opened on the first
floor of my boarding house. At the age of twenty-five, my boutique
opened on April 13th, 1911, with the name Fleurir boutique. Which means
bloom and flourish in France, I want to leave a message that one day we
all will have the ability to grow as a human being through good times
and life struggles because bloom is the beautiful process of becoming.
Initially, the residents weren't too interested in my clothes, which looked
very different from the other.

But I didn't give up. One day a noble lady visited my boutique. She said
that my clothes looked very unique and comfortable to wear, so she
bought my clothes. From there, people became interested in the new
model. Eli and I began to actively promote my clothes by wearing them
and taking a walk in the park. Not a few residents asked where I bought
the clothes, I enthusiastically said that the clothes sold in boutiques near
city parks are very comfortable to wear with modern models. Because the
price was affordable, not a few commoners bought my clothes. My
boutique started to get busy. After three weeks, fifty sets of my clothes
were sold out.

After the end of my first set of clothing designs, I began to be active and
enthusiastic, pouring my creativity into designing clothes with new
models. During the three weeks of my first sale of clothes, many female
aristocrats asked me to design new clothes that were classier and more
suitable for formal banquets and ceremonies. This brought me the idea to
create a formal women's dress that was modern and looked classy.

One morning, while I was walking in the city market, I found a

magazine from Paris. I didn’t know about Paris's latest condition for a
long time, so I bought it and immediately returned home. While
enjoying a beautiful morning sitting on a chair in the courtyard and
drinking hot tea, I started reading the magazine.

I was not surprised that the fashion there has advanced so much,
the royals no longer wear corsets in their dresses. It was a huge
improvement, now women no longer needed to feel uncomfortable
wearing dresses. The thing that caught my eye was that tweed fabric
was very popular in Paris then. Tweed fabric was suitable for winter,
but Batavia did not have winter. I thought about wearing tweed
fabric as a thin cardigan for formal wear. I quickly grabbed my
sketchbook and tried to design some formal cardigans out of tweed
fabric.
 This outfit was adorned with a rough
texture white hat and wrapped in black
ribbon in the curves. Even though it
looked very simple, that minimalist model
looked really good with the outfit I
designed.
The white cardigan made of tweed fabric
accented with black buttons up made this
outfit look very classy. Not only the
nobles who could look attractive at
formal events, but now the general public
could also look classy in my clothing.
During the two months, I was preparing
for a big fashion launch, Eli and I were
busy preparing a new model that we sold
in the boutique. Since our shop was well
known among the public and aristocracy,
it didn't take long for our clothes to sell
out.

Eli and I continued to develop our boutique with new and unique designs. Our
boutique was expanding and many new employees were hired. For two years I
tried, I finally reached my heyday. Every day hundreds of my employees made
dozens of new designs to be sold at the boutique. Initially, only Batavian
aristocrats came to my boutique, now even nobles in other cities and Dutch
aristocrats also come to my boutique to buy my clothing.

I was thirty years old, and if you had asked me if I had an interest in finding a
partner and getting married, the answer was probably no. Until one beautiful
afternoon, when I was manning my boutique while drawing designs, the doorbell
rang. A man who looked like in his 25s entered my boutique. His face was a
perfectly sculpted, sharp nose with a concrete jaw.

Eyes with black pupils that were like black holes were absorbing my attention
towards him. His jet-black hair, which was neatly combed, with bristly eyebrows
caught my eye. He had a devil-may-care outlook and a stellar smile. The most
attractive thing about him was his dimple when he smiled at me. His dimples
were sweeter than sugar, I couldn’t help but fall for him.

I suddenly snapped out of my reverie when he greeted me. Sweetly he asked if

there was a new dress from my boutique. I took him to the dress section of the
room, I asked him who the dress was for. While looking at me friendly, he
answered that it was for his sister who had a birthday the next day. He quickly
picked out a pink tulle dress in a daisy pattern. After paying, he left. I wondered
if he would come back again.
 Unexpectedly, the next week he returned to my boutique to buy
women's accessories. He very kindly asked my name. From there we
started to get close. He said his name was Fajar, what a weird name I
thought. Every week he visited my boutique to chat and take a walk in
the nearby park. After getting acquainted, I just found out that Fajar
was a Batavian nobleman who had a kingdom in the next city.
He did not know how pleased I was to be visited by him. Every week I silently
waited for him to appear at the door while smiling to myself, even Eli kept asking
me, was I falling for a guy?

One day in the cool morning, he took me for a walk in the park. That morning, a
gentle breeze blew my hair. I looked at the tree where the buds began to flower,
adding a splash of color. The sun washed the park with a golden glow, I saw a
pair of rabbits hopping on the dewy grass.

When I looked to the side, I saw Fajar sitting stiffly, while biting his lips. He saw
me staring at him, his mouth opened as if he wanted to speak, but closed again
and his eyes looked down. I waited for him to speak. Finally, after he relaxed, he
started the conversation by complimenting my hair which was very pretty in the
wind. I blushed to hear that. After taking a deep breath, he said his big decision.
Do you want to be my girlfriend he asked while nervously giving a red rose, I saw
his cheeks flushed like pink cotton candy.

I didn't expect he ended up asking that. My heart was pounding so hard, even I
could hear it like a drum in my ears. I looked at him shyly, I remembered our
memories together and his cheeky face laughed when I bought him a sweet in
the garden. Whether this was a decision that would bring joy to my life or a
decision that only added to the list of sadness and regrets in my life. I shyly said
yes I do.

From there we started our relationship, every Sunday he always took me out. No
need to go to expensive restaurants or buy jewelry, just eating a sandwich by the
lake and giving a rose is so precious to me. Our relationship had been going on
for two years, but slowly he began to rarely visit me. He always reasoned that he
was busy at his palace. Even for one month he did not visit me at all. Then in the
next visit, he pretended that nothing had happened. Out of nowhere, he started
scolding me a lot, saying harsh words just because of a small mistake. I was
hesitant to continue our relationship, I restlessly took the old diary and looked
for guidance.
 Monday, April 5, 1923

Anguish .
I cried asking to break up with him, but he forced me to continue our
relationship, he kept apologizing to me and promised not to do it again.
I can't bear to see his crying face that kept apologizing, so I
reluctantly continue our relationship. Three months later he asked me
to marry him. Because my age is not young anymore, I agree. Our
wedding took place in a small church on the edge of town with 15
invited people, and Eli was the witness.

This marriage is only a path that opens deeper into Fajar' s true
nature. Not infrequently I was hit by him who was drunk. My
suffering doesn't stop there, I keep receiving bad news. Since my
boutique was famous and widespread, many local Batavia products felt
threatened, so they stormed my boutique to do a demo. They said
clothing from abroad shouldn't be sold here, my boutique was destroyed
by them.

When I got there, all that was left was scattered broken glass, with
ripped cloth on the road. My heart ached when I saw Eli who sat
there with blood running down her head. I helped her up. She cried
telling me that she tried her best to keep them away but she failed.
When I returned home, sad news awaited me. It was reported that
Fajar died in a car crash while drunk driving. With a tired face, I
thought that God doesn’t want me to be happy, everything I love has
been taken from me.

I don't know how to live this life anymore.

 My heart ached reading that, I couldn’t hold
my tears from streaming down my face. As if I
felt the pain. The date of the diary was
precisely that day. I didn’t want that incident
to happen in my life. I rushed to go to my
boutique to see the situation. On my way to
the boutique, I saw Fajar with a woman eating
together at a restaurant.
I could not believe what I saw, I ran into the restaurant, Fajar looked at me in
surprise. Before he could say anything, I slapped his face while pouring out my
anger. I don't care about other people looking at me in wonder, I screamed at him
that we are broke up.
With tears streaming down my face, I ran out of the restaurant. Fajar chased me
while pulling my hand. He apologized and said that he still loves me. I don't want
to hear his explanation again, one thing I wanted to do is not repeat the same
mistakes. I don't want to be blind only for love. Like a moth to a flame, burned by
the fire. Even though I still felt in love with him, I must continue to live my
precious life. Maybe by breaking up with him, he didn't need to have a bad
marriage with me, maybe he didn't have to die horribly.

Eli helped me through difficult days, she was also the one who helped me to stay
passionate about developing my boutique. After I told her that there was a
possibility that the local businessmen would feel threatened because their
products were no longer famous, and they damaged our boutiques. Eli agreed
with me, she gave me suggestions to hold a fashion week in collaboration with
young Batavia designers, and local products. The theme of the fashion week was
to design clothes inspired by outer clothing but still using the typical Batavian
culture. I thought Eli's idea was brilliant.

Maybe by holding the fashion week, the love of the country would stick in the
hearts of the people. Eli and I were busy planning this fashion week, we visited
many young Batavia designers and local fashion entrepreneurs to invite them to
work together. So that people were interested in seeing this fashion week, I
designed several dresses with kebaya and batik accents. Batik at that time was
very well known in Batavia, with a unique and colorful pattern, people liked
wearing it.

Initially, batik was only known by the court. It consisted of various motifs and
each motif was a symbol for the wearer, such as the parang and kawung motifs
which could only be worn by the royal family. During its development, batik
spread to the general public. The various patterns and colors in batik made this
cloth very popular with the Batavian community. I also add a black accent to my
dress design. I displayed it in front of my boutique, people were very impressed
with the combination of batik with modern models.
 July 9th, finally our fashion
week was held at the city
festival for one week.
Hundreds of local and out-of-
town residents and even
royalty came to visit our
fashion week. At fashion
week, they could see many
clothes that used batik
patterns, kebaya, and even
leather puppet accents.

That event received good responses from residents. That fashion show
not only displayed my fashion designs with the young Batavia designers
but also showed an exhibition of the local Batavia fashion products
collection which at that time were not well known to the public. I didn't
expect hundreds of people from many cities to visit my fashion show.
Gradually, people became interested in a collection of local products that
are not inferior in quality to imported products from abroad. I can't
explain how proud I was to see the developments I have made at this
point.

Since then, young designers have been active in designing modern

clothes with their distinctive cultural accents. From the fashion week, I
wanted to give the opportunity for young Batavia designers to show their
creativity in designing clothes that showed their unique culture. I also
hoped that with this fashion week, local products would be recognized by
the public and allow them to introduce their products internationally.
My boutique is becoming known internationally. Now I have dozens of
shops in various countries. Eli became one of my trusted people to hand
over my boutique to her. At the age of sixty, I want to make the last
masterpiece that will go down in history before retiring. With Eli's help, I
created a time capsule themed gallery exhibition, where the gallery
showed my journey in making fashion history. There will be my first
clothing design to the current design outfit. From this gallery exhibition, I
hope that residents can find out about the development of fashion here,
and grow a sense of love for their homeland in their hearts.

This is the story of a girl who fights to change her destiny.

 Wednesday, August 30, 1950
Ends .
Every story has an end. But in life, every ending is a new
beginning.