“I just took a quick look. Most of the fabrics produced in our factory are blue-gray or black. Even the printed fabrics are too plain in color. Such products are fine here, but in a place like Shanghai, young people probably wouldn’t even look at them.”
Xiao Heping nodded, "Yes, we have also sent our fabrics to Shanghai and Beijing, but the response has been so-so, and there have even been returns."
In order to open up the Beijing market, they shipped a batch of goods there, promising that they could return them if they couldn't sell them. However, after two months of sales, the customers returned more than half of the fabric to them.
"I just checked, and it seems our factory doesn't have a workshop for producing Dacron fabric?"
Although Gu An'an personally disliked Dacron fabric, finding it unbreathable and less comfortable than cotton, it was undeniable that Dacron fabric had a significant market presence in this era.
“We used to have a production line, but the fabrics produced weren’t selling very well. We bought the machine secondhand, and it broke down after a short time, so it was left idle.”
Is Dacron fabric not selling well? Gu An'an had some doubts.
"The polyester fabric produced in our factory isn't also gray-blue or black, is it?"
Xiao Heping was taken aback by her question. "I really don't know. I was only transferred to the textile factory this year. When I arrived, that production line had already stopped. I'll send someone to ask."
He went out for two or three minutes, and when he came back, he was accompanied by a man in his early thirties, who was carrying a piece of cloth.
Gu An'an was speechless when she saw that piece of cloth.
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