Kiev, Ukraine - June 1960
Kiev. The capital city of Ukraine and the newest city to catch the Algerian fashion craze. Well, so far the only major city outside of the Arab World to do so but never mind that. If there was one thing the siblings shared, it was obvious optimism. Nour Hamidou stared out into the morning-kissed, dreary streets near her newest chain store. Even in the middle of summer, this place never fails to depress her. Hints pointing to the refugee crisis could be seen even in this rich district of the city. A beggar here and there, intermingled with the rich and upper middle-class that crowded the sidewalks. She was so glad she could be here, inside and out of that dreary looking street. But the government had accepted her goods with welcoming arms and she was going to be one of the first foreign designers to set up shop in urban Ukraine. It was rare that such an awesome opportunity for business could arise and how could she deny a country a dose of her beautiful dresses? She could not have missed a good way to spread her brand far from familiar borders. She had done much to make sure that the Kiev branch of
The Algerian Silk would survive and thrive amongst the Europeans that called this place. She had specifically wanted to open during summer, when most of her dresses could be on show and be functional to use. Her beautiful dresses could be put on show and her brand could grow during that time. When winter came, then she would release her brand new, Ukraine-specific winter wear set of
The Algerian Silk.
It would be a beautiful mix of local, European and Algerian designs for a functional, and most importantly beautiful, set of clothing. The designer and CEO had many hopes in Europe. She could imagine it now, the first tidal wave of Algerian fashion entering the European scene and she would be its herald. She would be the leader, opening the flood gates to other Algerians and hopefully, other Arab fashion brand. But of course, she needed to get first dibs and this was an easy way to experiment with European customers. If the Kiev-branch failed, they could easily hide it from the rest of Europe, especially Western Europe, since countries were so detached from each other in the continent. If it succeeded, they could carry on setting up chain stores in the country and in other countries. She could easily see it now, a beautiful and Algiers-esque store in the middle of Berlin, standing out as a foreign Arabic-Berber brand. It would be magnificent and a dream come true. As if in her own dream world, she started to hum to herself, smiling sweetly. This was the start to a new age of fashion.
"Um, ma'am? The store is opening in twenty minutes." The store manager - a Sahrawi woman named Jaina who used to manage the Oran branch back home - interrupted her daydreaming. Nour's eyes flew open but she straightened her dress, taking a few calming breaths. She turned around, keeping her sweet smile on her face, tilting here's head in greeting. "My thanks, Jaina. I will be coming down the stairs soon, I will make one last round of the second level. To ensure that everything is at tip top shape."
The loyal employee nodded her head and bowed, turning around to attend to her duties. Her boss waited until she was gone before releasing a held breath. That was close. She couldn't be seen as dreaming already, it was too soon to hope so much. But the optimism helped with the stress of opening a store in a foreign country. Not only that but as the President's sister, her failure could negatively impact her brother as well. And right now, he was balancing two swords in each hand. Any slip up could result in horrible injury to the country. If she was to succeed however... the Ukraine was in desperate need of consumer goods. So much so that they allowed an incredibly foreign brand to enter the country and set up shop on the main street. Algerian culture and influence could start to at least make themselves known among parts of society, particularly the rich and middle class. She had even lowered the prices slightly when exchanging between currencies, making sure that she could get the interest of those demographics. It was those type of people that spread the news, the rumours and the gossip. They could spread the news of a new "exotic" brand within Kiev, from North Africa of all places. This could be big for international relations and could result in an increases in tourism, something her brother was trying to promote. But alas, she needed to keep a level head and rid herself of that optimism once more. A lot was riding on her shoulders and even though a cover up was possible, it wasn't preferable.
Nour started to walk around the second level of the store. She had bought premium real estate and it showed. The old hotel was converted into a white Algerian spire, clawing at the sky. It stood out amongst the European architecture which surrounded it. In a few months of construction, the mini tower had been finished and even now, rumours spread of what it could be. She had spent much time and money on creating it as wonderful as possible. A tailor was hired to fit dresses to richer customers and several locals were hired as clerks and helpers. She had even learned some Ukrainian to make sure she could immerse herself with the culture of the place. She had also made sure that her advertisement campaign would be extensive, particularly two to three weeks before the grand opening today. Radios played
The Algerian Silk motto, posters were put up in the urban city and a Ukrainian fashion show featured a dress of her design a week before. She had even sent a gold embroidered, two piece silk jacket and
karakou to Anastisya herself, as a gift from her and her brother. She wanted to spin the rumour mills as fast as possible, making sure that this branch's opening could be as grand as possible. Everything was as perfect as it could be within the store.
The store itself had three levels, the first having the cheapest and most affordable dresses, gowns, scarves, jackets and other articles of clothing. The second level had more expensive pieces on show, with jewellery on sale lining the walls. The third level was for the rich and richer. The tailor was set up shop there with rolls of materials lining the walls where women of all shapes and sizes could be made beautiful Algerian embroidered clothes, for a price of course. The more gold embroidery and extravagance, the richer the customer needed to be. But of course, everything was slightly cheaper than current market prices, just to make sure that everything sold well. Selling out on the first day was unlikely, mostly because Nour had prepared the store for such an occasion. She rubbed the corner of a red velvet gown, feeling the materials and emotion of it. She always had a knack for designing and although her leadership skills were on par with her brother's, she always found fashion far more enticing than running a country. Why deal with dreary old politics when you could be a free, bad bitch like her? She made her own living, hired her own people, all without listening to anyone else about what to do! She could never run a democracy, she ran her business like a strict but fair authoritarian regime. She, in the end, would make the decisions but she could listen to advice if she really needed to. But she rarely did.
Music started playing, the sounds of multiple Algerian
mandoles playing downstairs. An angelic and upbeat voice started singing in Arabic. It signalled ten minutes before opening and was a last minute choice on her part to include. The band, the Saharan Swingers, were a hit in Algeria and the CEO had reached in deep within her contacts to get them here in Kiev. The mix of the upbeat rhythm of swing with traditional instruments were a new and interesting sound. The voice of the lead singer was just a cherry on top. A very sweet cherry, if she could say so herself. She couldn't help but turn back to the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the street. People started to stop and gather, hearing the music coming from the store. They stopped their commute to listen to the music. It was like sweet honey to the ears, a sugary treat in song form. It was an original single of theirs called
"Desert Desserts", a controversial song about sex, relationships and sweet love. It was particularly popular to the youth of Algeria but the enticing vibes the song gave attracted native Ukrainians, despite a lack of understanding behind the meaning of the songs. She smiled at the gathering crowd, waiting there for a few minutes before the song reached its climax. She turned and went down the spiral staircase, entering the first floor. Clerks were patiently waiting for the opening, with her manager standing by. All of them were beautiful women of her choosing, both local and Algerian.
The Hamidou sister clapped her hands together, putting on a charming smile before walking towards the glass doors. She took strides with confidence and prowess, unseen in places like these. She was an Algerian woman, someone to be respected and praised. Among her people, she was one of those women to be feared. A powerful, prideful and incredibly sensual being who was capable of taking any place by storm. Controversial but in all the right ways. She attracted the eyes of every outsider in front of the store, approaching the doors in an elegant embroidered gown. As she got closer, her tall height could be seen by the locals and she tried her best to stop herself from winking at a particularly nice piece of eye candy. That wasn't allowed here and she was controversial enough. She had to keep her
urges as low as possibly. Instead, she raised an eyebrow and opened both doors with finality. She stood in the doorway, gathering a sizeable crowd while the music came to a climax behind her. "Good morning Kiev!" She exclaimed in accented Ukrainian, opening her arms in a flourish. "Welcome to the opening of
The Algerian Silk! I welcome you to our magnificent store, to an exotic culture and most importantly, amazing clothes! Please, come into our store shop as you like." She gave way to people coming into the store, looking around in wonder at the interior of the place as well as the clothes on show. Some left due to the lack of money but some stayed, fishing into their wallets as they looked upon some particularly pretty dress.
'This was the start to a new age,' Nour thought to herself
'a new age of fashion.'
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