The Real Learning
When we were starting Ensemble I went to meet Martand Singh. He was a wonderful man whose whole purpose was to restore textiles and because of that he worked closely with artisans. It was the first time someone was talking to me about textiles and India. He gave me this book, Vishwakarma. Basically the author of the book went around the country and documented each weaver that did anything of any value and filled it with beautiful little shlokas. They photographed people engaging in every process. They captured tribal people working in the midst of nowhere and so this started my education. I first went to Benaras and through the book I would go to each person and learn from him or her. I came across fabric made of peacock feathers. They weave the feather and it ends up looking like the body of a peacock. In my opening collec- tion I did little gilets and Nehru topis with it. Then I went to Kutch and roamed around there. I went to every block weaver and soaked in how much ever I could and that’s when my real education started. I learnt more from this book than I have learnt from any school. I still refer to it as now the second or third generation is involved so I meet them. This book was given to me in 1987 and will hold on to it for as long as I can. There is no pretense. It’s simple, it’s real and it’s beautiful.
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Although I’ve worked with embellishments for years, I find my approach is becoming increasingly toned down. I focus on structured draping, emphasising that the beauty of Indian design often lies in the fabrics itself, rather than embellishments. Today, thanks to both traditional craftsmanship and technology, we can enhance fabrics in innovative ways.
When I first did a show in Milan, I had to align with Western standards but used India as a strong inspiration. I love Indian embroidery but instead of just incorporating that into jackets, I wanted to explore how traditional elements, such as chikankari prints or jewel embellishments, could be applied to sportswear. India is a crazy place of inspiration, but it’s often limited to evening wear. There’s very little innovation in sportswear beyond traditional salwar kameez.
I wanted to create something that bridges the gap—a contemporary silhouette that allows young women to move freely and comfortably from day to night. Now what I see is that people either wear Indian clothes or they wear Western clothes so we need a bridge—a beautiful bridge—that allows Indian women to explore their fashion choices.
Inspiration
I look for inspiration everywhere I can. I went to the Kumbh Mela twelve years back and we had Rohit Chawla, who took photographs of hundreds of sadhus and sadhvis. We created a big collection based on those images.
Once, I was at my sister’s house when her daughter’s nanny, who comes from the middle of Maharashtra, suddenly hitched up her pleats into her petticoat because she was going to start cleaning the floors. I stopped and clicked a photo and we created a beautiful sculpted skirt based on that, layered in a similar way.
I can look at an Amrita Sher-Gil painting. I can even look at a statue and study the way it’s carved. In fact, we’re creating something based on sculptures we photographed at the Asian Civilizations Museum. In India, we didn’t document in the Western way. In the West, everything was captured through portraiture. In India, it was mainly miniatures. It was only Ravi Varma who came along and started painting in this detailed way. There are so many sources of inspiration.
Very often, the fabric leads you; it tells you, without speaking, just by the way it falls, what it can do. Like with writing an article, it will never just be one thing. You might pull from various sources, referencing things you’ve read. It’s a visceral process. I could pick up a Raghu Rai book because he photographed India for years. All of this feeds into the subconscious.
Sustainability
I think the real enemy of sustainability is fast fashion. It has pushed prices lower and lower and with that comes synthetic materials. Each year, ninety billion pieces of clothing end up in landfills. Most are not biodegradable and will stay there for years, producing harmful gases and so on. The basic issue with sustainability stems from this Western system of new collections and new colours, it was all designed to encourage people to buy, discard and keep buying, making self-esteem tied to what’s new.
If you notice, people posting on Instagram daily don’t repeat outfits, it’s part of the culture now and it’s insane. But I treasure beautiful items. For example, some- one gave me a Brunello Cucinelli sweater, which I love and take care of so I can keep wearing it. I have items from thirty-five years ago that I still wear, as long as they fit.
The basic principle is to make beautiful things that feel wonderful, because nobody, who is conscious today, wants to buy something beautiful just to throw it away. The urge to do so is a shallow trend that emerged recently, particularly with new money.
We’ll move past this. In our culture, unlike the West, fashion hasn’t changed as rapidly; so, it’s normal here to adapt, reuse, and repeat clothing. When I moved to Delhi, I saw women wearing blouses made from old saris, some wanted to turn them into other clothes, others still wore them as saris.
There’s real value in all this today. But if you buy things of poor quality, you’ll feel bad and won’t want to repeat them and if you create things without quality, don’t talk about sustainability. Whatever you do, do it beautifully and with the intention of making it last as long as possible. That’s what sustainability is all about.