On an early trip to The Philippines on a quest for unusual materials, Veni (Venifreda) Evangelista arranged for herself and her daughter Maya to visit the small, “primitive” island of Boracay. From the mainland, Veni and Maya were directed to an old military cargo plane. “It lands on a VERY short runway,” Maya recalls. There followed a bus ride to a “banka,” a small wooden boat often used for scuba and snorkeling “definitely strange and scary for a city girl.” Veni and Maya were delivered to a community of “nipa” huts— small bamboo structures on legs with grass roofs. Maya felt completely dislocated. Veni acted as if they were in a place where her raised hand would bring a taxi. She was just fine, thanks. Veni adapts.
One day on the beach, they found a little old man peddling charming, hand woven native bags. “Mom asked if he would make us about 100 pieces in the four styles.” Not only did he ship what was requested and on time, but the quality was wonderful. The bags were further embellished and so popular that two of the four styles were reordered. The old man’s neighbor took the call as there was only one telephone in the district.
Veni
Veni Evangelista worked in Manila as a chemical engineer. That was her job. In truth, she was an entrepreneur. Around 1963, Veni bought an expensive straw bag from Italy at an exclusive boutique. “And I said, you know, I could make this. I like a challenge.” Though she and her husband lived in the city, she knew that kind of handicraft was generic to “The Province.” Taking a day trip to the origin of the straw, she found five girls who could weave and proposed they come work for her in the city. Veni housed and fed them, had the girls copy the bag, then improved on the original, adding other shapes to the line.
She took her bags into the shop from which she’d purchased the original. “I think these are nicer than the ones you have” stood in place of a sales pitch. The proprietor was sure Veni had secured them in Italy. Convinced otherwise, she bought as many as Veni could supply.
Veni discovered people could emigrate to the states if they were engineers, doctors or nurses. She fit the bill. America was appealing. “I always wanted to see the other side of the world.” Off she went to the American Embassy. That night she cooked her husband’s favorite dinner and, papers in hand, made the “suggestion.” He had a good job as a pharmaceutical rep and no intention of leaving. Veni, however, was a force with which to be reckoned. She talked him into a year. Uh huh. Three Evangelistas moved to New York in 1966 when Maya was three. Veni walked out on the bag business. There would be other endeavors.
They arrived in Brooklyn and Veni set about getting work. Maya in tow, her husband would drive her from interview to interview. Symptomatic of the times, everyone assumed the job was for him. It took only three weeks to land at Hoffman La Roche. The family moved to Queens, then New Jersey. Once again, Veni had a job. Once again, she looked outside for independent stimulation. She began to buy close-outs and overruns of polo shirts, Sassoon and Vanderbilt jeans. And to sell them wholesale. By the time Maya was in the sixth grade, her mother had opened a boutique.
Maya
Maya was a tomboy. Even though she ran with the boys, she accessorized. At ten, she wore rings and scarves with her running shoes. Mother and daughter were each other’s favorite shopping companions. They frequented flea markets and downtown Manhattan enjoying the search as much as the discovery. “I was a little squirt when she began taking me to the Village.”
At Veni’s urging, the family traveled whenever possible. Maya grew up with a wide horizon, culturally aware and independent. She always loved fashion, but majored in dance at City University not, perhaps, wanting to follow in her mother’s footsteps. After several years study with Martha Graham, Maya was bluntly told, “This is not the career for you, honey.”
She turned back to her first interest. “I grew up in the shadow of my mother, with a love for beautiful, intricate materials.” Registering at F.I.T. without the required portfolio, she was pressed to major in buying and merchandising.
The Turning Point
In 1985, Veni was laid off. The women started to make jewelry at the kitchen table. It was a hobby, and all things considered, trial and error. “Basic soldering, all kinds of glue; we winged it,” remembers Veni. “The times lent themselves to hodge podge collage,” adds Maya. “It was all about crystals; big dramatic, elaborate pieces. The more far-out the better.”
They began selling jewelry, belts, then bags at the West 76 Street Flea and were compelled to set up a workshop outside home to answer demand. Maya’s boyfriend set up the computer system while her father set up the office. She and her mother designed and Veni handled the business. Staff was needed so the women turned to their countrymen. “They’re very crafty, good with their hands,” Maya says. “A lot of them were immigrants. We had teachers, a nurse, a doctor, even high school kids. None were jewelers. We taught them.” Ten were initially hired. The shop felt like family.
A regular customer at the flea offered to put them in touch with her cousin, Josephine, on the next shopping trip to Paris. Madame was a jewelry designer for St. Laurent and Givenchy. She looked 22 year-old Maya up and down and decided she was all right. “We felt our work was so inferior to her couture things, but she seemed excited to help.” Josephine showed them all her sources. When Maya’s flight was cancelled, she even offered “her little bed.” Since then, she’s affectionately referred to as Mama Josette.
After two years, the business was growing so fast Maya, in her early twenties, left school. Stores found them. A buyer from Bloomingdale’s bought everything Veni showed her. Saks Fifth Avenue and Jacobson’s followed as did high end boutiques and museum shops. Their first two reps showed them the ropes. Collections were developed, a limited number of each bag and duplicates of the jewelry. Magazines came calling. In another year and a half the company had six reps. Maya married her helpful boyfriend becoming Maya Evangelista Hilario.
The Build
“Because our look was very upscale and unusual, we could be really different. A collection might have 30 necklaces, coordinated earrings, handbags, some bracelets, some belts,” Maya tells me. Trends changed. Colors changed. Crystals went to naturals (buffalo horn, mother of pearl) and skins. “We came up with the silhouettes and fed them to the artisans,” says Veni, “there was a lot of experimentation.
“That’s when we started with resin; as a chemist, I knew the formula.” Bags are sketched, then hand-carved in wood. An impression is made, and then a mold. “Even the texture of rough pleated silk can be achieved, as can raised embroidery,” Maya points out, indicating the photo of a bag I’d swear was covered in just that fabric. The finished piece is hand painted. They began embossing leather so the line could also offer a price range more modest than that of real skins.
The company started doing market week in Milan, selling in Paris, and to Japan. In the 90s, with 20 employees, they shipped internationally. The heart of the operation never really changed. Mothers happily took piece work home. When the first of a new model was completed “they let out with this African tribal cry of celebration. There would be dancing,” says Maya. Can you imagine? Maya and Veni traveled a great deal. The work was all over–-Bazaar, Elle, Accessories Magazine. Pieces were chosen for The Emmy’s celebrity gift suites in Beverly Hills.
“We used to take four booths at the fashion market trade show, Accessory Circuit, with all this draping, vintage manikins, fresh flowers. People would literally line up to buy. Those were amazing times,” says Maya. “Maya excels in decorating,” Veni adds, “it was such fun.” They were respected, sought out. It was an exciting time. Unfortunately, Maya was beginning to feel “like I was creating with a gun held to my head—new, new, new.” She had too little time for her seven children, yes seven. Then the economy tanked.
Now
“At first it was really difficult. We’re very active Catholics. I turned to God to ask what do I do next? What came back to me was I’ve given you this gift—stay with it.” says Maya smiling. “It’s definitely freer doing art shows. We don’t have to be commercial. I’ve grown to love it with a capital L. I get to connect to customers, to actually see and hear the feedback. It’s awesome, inspirational. We do about ten shows a year.”
Maya has a six year-old making jewelry. The others are uninterested. Her wish? “To be continually inspired and evolve.” Veni’s wish? “I’m 72, I want to retire.” The Hilarios have been married 23 years. The Evangelistas have been married 48 years.
See our Shopping Around story on accessories by Maya and Veni. To take advantages of a special discount for Woman Around Town subscribers, go to www.mayaint.com and type in the access code WAT2011.
Woman Around Town’s Six Questions
Maya
Favorite Place to Shop: Flea markets, street fairs; discovering little boutiques
Favorite Place to Eat: Tout Va Bien on West 51st Street
Favorite New York Sight: Central Park. Fond memories of cutting out of school to go boating.
Favorite New York Moment: We launched our business here.
What You Love About New York: Vibrant. All about individualism.
What We Hate About New York: Finding a place to park
Moment: We launched our business.
Veni-Venifreda
Favorite Place to Shop: Soho
Favorite Place to Eat: Tout Va Bien
Favorite New York Sight: Rockefeller Center during the holidays.
Favorite New York Moment: After we moved to Jersey, I came back in one weekend and I stumbled on the antique district in the twenties. My mouth opened for half an hour! A magic moment.
What You Love About New York: The whole city. I love every bit of this city. I will never live far away from New York.
What We Hate About New York: Nothing!
