Garment Industry Los Angeles

In a surprise ending to a vicious and far-reaching legal brawl, the warring owners of the Guess and Jordache jeans empires reached a settlement Wednesday that restores full ownership of Guess to the Marciano brothers of Beverly Hills. The Marcianos' longtime foes--brothers Joe, Avi and Ralph Nakash of New York, owners of Jordache--in return won an undisclosed share of $106 million in Guess profits set aside in a frozen account.

A downtown business group has reached an out-of-court settlement with homeless residents who said they had been harassed and assaulted by private security guards patrolling downtown streets. Though it admits no wrongdoing, the Fashion District Business Improvement District and its security contractor, Burns International Security Services Corp.

What became known as the "Carole Little murders" stretched over 18 months and left three dead--two executives of the chic women's clothing company and one of its top sewing contractors. There were two bombings, as well, along with a freeway shooting and an ambush outside a sewing plant that left a husband and wife wounded. The string of violence shocked Southern California's $20-billion garment industry and created a gnawing mystery for area law enforcement.

The Fashion District offers plenty of places to stop and grab a snack or have a meal. Here are a few: Angelique Cafe, 840 S. Spring St., (213) 623-8698. A French cafe with terrace dining serving gourmet salads, vegetarian plates and hot dishes such as beef bourguignon, duck and escargots . All items less than $9. Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf, 210 E. Olympic Blvd., No. 120, (213) 749-5746. A place to refresh with a snack or drink after trekking through Santee Alley. Cole's P.E. Buffet Inc.

A Cheshire cat grin creeps across Francine Browner's face as she confesses that the jacket she wears does not carry her own label. "It's a Calvin Klein," the 44-year-old sportswear designer admits, adding that she has not "interpreted" its look and feel into her own line. Yet. Klein is one of several top names in the business who inspire Browner's designs for Rue de Reves, a company she founded six years ago and has built into a leader among Southern California's junior market.

This time, Allan Franklin and Sidney Penchansky say, they really mean it. If they can't turn their North Hollywood textile business around in the next few months, the brothers-in-law vow to sell out, ending three generations of family ownership. "We can't go on at this rate," said Franklin, who with Penchansky is vice president of Levine Bros. Inc.

With whirring garment racks, hairless mannequins modeling a rainbow of lingerie and miniskirts and a cacophony of voices hawking everything from lucky bamboo to live geckos, the Fashion District in downtown Los Angeles is the ultimate urban experience. The gritty neighborhood, which many know as the garment district, is no longer simply a wholesale and manufacturing center. It has become a destination not just for bargain basics, but for trendy clothing and accessories.

Clothing designer Clotee McAfee can barely contain her excitement as she describes a pocket-making machine she will install in the new, fully automated garment plant she plans to move into by the end of the year. "It can set a pocket in three seconds," McAfee said. "Right now, with a single needle, it takes three minutes" for one of the 25 sewing machine operators she employs to make a pocket and sew it onto a shirt.

Walking down a Los Angeles street or at an Ozomatli concert, you might spot someone wearing a T-shirt with the picture of Mexican revolutionary Emiliano Zapata or a "Brown Pride" graphic. "It's urban wear with a cultural twist to it," explains Anthony Cruz-Gonzalez, founder of Montebello's Trueroots Streetwear & Clothing Co. The 27-year-old, who works out of his Montebello home, is one of a handful of small L.A.

As serious and drab as the flat little municipality of Vernon is, the clothing it sends across the country is bright and sexy, cheerful enough to sustain California's golden image.

With whirring garment racks, hairless mannequins modeling a rainbow of lingerie and miniskirts and a cacophony of voices hawking everything from lucky bamboo to live geckos, the Fashion District in downtown Los Angeles is the ultimate urban experience. The gritty neighborhood, which many know as the garment district, is no longer simply a wholesale and manufacturing center. It has become a destination not just for bargain basics, but for trendy clothing and accessories.

Kimi Lee and her co-workers have no illusions about the obstacles they face. From an office in the garment district, she and two other anti-sweatshop organizers are taking on L.A.'s multibillion-dollar garment industry. They are trying to improve the treatment of the overwhelmingly immigrant and female work force toiling in thousands of sewing lofts, storefronts and hidden factories concentrated on the southeast end of downtown.

A huge pornography company financing a clothing firm? It doesn't take someone with a libido stuck in overdrive to imagine the line of raunchy clothes they might design. Well, buddy, censor those thoughts right now and start thinking about sleek, contemporary sportswear. That's what Danny Cook and Q (short for Qamilla Carlsson) make for Private Circle, their men's and women's clothing company based in downtown Los Angeles.

The U.S. Department of Labor said Thursday it has slapped 17 Los Angeles-area garment contractors with more than $270,000 in penalties for repeat violations of federal wage and hour laws. Reinspections of 35 sewing factories previously cited for violating the Fair Labor Standards Act found a staggering 63% were still paying workers less than minimum wage or denying them overtime pay.

The Los Angeles garment district's first lawsuits over so-called key money have been settled out of court. Lawyers won't discuss terms of the agreement reached last month. But apparel wholesalers Dan Seong and Byung Wook Kim--who sued their landlords for trying to extract tens of thousands of dollars in upfront cash as a condition for renewing their leases--remain as tenants in the building on the corner of 11th and San Julian streets.

Reaffirming the region's prominent role in the fashion and design industries, Los Angeles' top merchandise marts have staged a turnaround from gloomy recession days when tenants were bailing out and critics questioned whether marts had a future in the Internet age. New tenants have boosted occupancy rates in downtown Los Angeles' California Mart, the hub of Southern California's apparel industry.

Behind a faded storefront on the eastern fringes of Hollywood, the seamstresses of Silvia's Costumes sing as they sew, much as their ancestors in Yerevan did a thousand years ago. Their metier is fine detail work--the hand beading, embroidery and stitching that adorns some of the fashion industry's most extravagant garments. They craft one-of-a-kind designs for a Bob Mackie gown or a jacket by designer Bill Whitten that will fetch thousands of dollars in a boutique across town.

Some come simply to get a glimpse of the big boss, emphasis on big. That might happen a couple of times a day, a supervisor says, usually teenagers under the guise of seeking employment. "Middle-aged people too, now that I think about it," Cynthia Atterberry adds, laughing. They come to Compton, to a side street filled with low-rise warehouses and other industrial buildings, to see Shaquille O'Neal.

Until it closed its factory last month, Revatex Inc. was among the few big Los Angeles clothing designers to also produce garments itself. Many apparel firms in a city known for trendy juniors garments already had shifted production to contractors, both in the city and abroad. Los Angeles lost 5,000 garment production jobs in 1999. Observers said it's tough for firms such as Revatex to profitably run their own factories. For one thing, seasonal demand can cause wild production swings.

The masked intruders burst into Ace Knitting Co. just before 11 p.m. They stuck a pistol to the head of the lone employee, bound his wrists with shoelaces, then sped away with a truckload of booty. The target of their carefully woven scheme: bolts of spandex fabric. Long the bane of the fashion police, the body-hugging fiber is now bedeviling local law enforcement.