A very familiar sight greeted me as I entered the female political ward of Evin prison on a chilly afternoon: an ancient, grey industrial sewing machine on a wooden stand near the door, silently sitting with its flap tipped over. Adjacent to it, a notice was affixed to the wall that read, "On Sundays and Wednesdays, the sewing machine can be used from 10 to 12 a.m. Before bringing any clothing to Fatemeh for repair, please make sure it has been cleaned."
I had been a political pawn between Iran and the UK for six years, going through periods of home arrest, prison, and solitary incarceration. I spent the first nine months of my imprisonment in a cell that was dark and devoid of natural light. They forced me to take off all of my clothes and put on a uniform as soon as I got inside the cage. It was required as everyone had to have the same appearance, reported Bazaar.
The outfit, which was dull pink in color, was composed of a manteau, a long-sleeved dress with buttons up the front, and loose polyester pants. You felt chilly in the winter and hot and stuffy in the summer since the fabric prevented skin from breathing. They offered me a double extra-large size outfit, even though I am petite. I had to wrap the waist around my body and roll up the sleeves to prevent the trousers from falling down because it was purposefully big and ill-fitting. Worse, I only got one set from them. After taking a shower, I felt repulsed to be wearing the same clothing.
Prisoners adopt identical clothing as a means of enforcing control and discipline. The purpose of outfitting all prisoners with oversized, low-quality uniforms in purposefully muted colors is to dehumanize them. You lose your identity and name the moment you put on the uniform. You are no longer yourself. You are just a number to them./BGNES