Masha’Allah, it worked !

Blog Series: Behind the Seams
Episode 1: The Great Power Panic – Fashion vs. Electricity

Welcome back to "Behind the Seams," where we lift the curtain on all the glamorous (and not-so-glamorous) chaos that comes with building a fashion house from scratch. If you ever thought starting a fashion business was just silk, scissors, and photo shoots—well, buckle up.

This week’s tale is all about the kind of electricity no one tells you about when you’re dreaming of ateliers and runway shows.

So there we were—signing the contract for a massive, 1000-square-meter historical monument of a house in the heart of Bucharest, right across from the President’s Palace. Three floors of pure architectural charm, soon to be Tessitura’s new creative sanctuary. A dream, right? Yes. But also a very old dream—with an even older electrical system.

Now, picture this: over 40 high-tech sewing machines ready to move in. And me? I know how to plug in an air conditioner or maybe a blender, but calculating power consumption for industrial machines? Not my thing.

Cue: me, eight electricians, and the owner of the house—all gathered in a room full of blueprints, wires, and "uh-oh" expressions.

The electricians start doing their serious math. The verdict? We may need to contact the national electricity provider. Not just for a permit—but to reroute the entire street’s power. Including digging up roads and affecting the palace-facing neighbors. They estimated it would take a year and a half. ONE. AND. A. HALF.

The owner (a lovely man, by the way) gently pulls me aside and says, "You’ve paid three months in advance, but if this feels like too much, I’ll return your money. No hard feelings."

Now, if you know me, you know that’s not an option. If someone closes a door, I find a window. If that’s shut too—I’ll find a crack in the wall.

So what did I do? I smiled, thanked him, and said, "Give me two days. We’re not giving up."

Back to the drawing board: the electricians come up with a "Plan B." We could reroute and reinforce the internal system and cross our fingers that the new, energy-efficient machines wouldn’t blow up the house. It was risky. It was expensive. But it was possible.

So, for six days straight, the team worked on all three levels of the house—installing new panels, rewiring circuits, and funneling most of the power into the first level (the future manufacturing floor).

After that came the machine setup—another 10+ days of work, carefully placing each one of the 40+ machines and prepping every workstation.

And then, finally: the big day.

Mid-May. The team was in. We brought in backup. Everyone had their fingers hovering above the power buttons. I held my breath like I was waiting for a verdict from the fashion gods. And then...

Click.

The sound of all the machines powering on. No smoke. No flames. No drama. Just the smooth, humming sound of a dream becoming real.

It worked. Masha’Allah, it worked.

That was our first official day. Not just the first day of operations—but the first time Tessitura came to life in our very own space, built against the odds.

Let this be a reminder: fashion isn’t just fabric. Sometimes, it’s cables, concrete, and crazy courage.

Stay tuned. We’ve got many more laughs (and a few more crises) to share in the next chapters of House of Tessitura.