Thursday, 24 April 2025

U is for ... Unstitched ... n ...Universal

 






All this month I am writing about unmatched Indian handlooms, a quick but captivating dive into the saree specifically, a garment worn by Indians for five millennia. Come with me into the magnificent, complex and utterly fascinating world of fibre and yarn, of skills and techniques of dyeing and printing and embroidery, traditions unchanged for centuries. Of sumptuous finished fabrics that not only make a fashion statement, but also constitute our cultural heritage and political identity.



U is for Upshot


First off one can talk about the Uppada sarees a part of the traditional weaving style of Andhra Pradesh. Have a peek at some of Andhra sarees in this video.



So. After almost a month of poking around trying to learn about weavers and sarees and yarns and looms, what,  as we near the end, is the upshot? 


That is a little heart breaking for people like me. Don't get me wrong, the saree is doing well - the unstitched six yards, experimental new drapes, accessorising with newer fashion items which the older generations didn't dream of... all that is fine.  So many variations on designs and materials, semi this, half that, names and motifs I'd never heard of before, Ikat seeping into regions where Ikat was never practised, Lambani embroidery being done on plain Bengal weaves. Digital prints replicating the original hand worked Patola, Kani, Batik, Ikat and anything else you care to name,  in breathtaking similarity and detail - there is an explosion of design innovation on the part of the producers and a huge basket of choice for the consumers. 


The saree is doing well, but the handloom saree ? I'm afraid not. 


A few days ago, some random lady from some boutique floated up on my feed, I get a lot of those because well, I'm a little saree obsessed and algos being algos... so this lady was there with a short video. She showed some Gadwals - silk borders and aanchal with beautiful gold woven work and a body of pure cotton is a speciality of Gadwal sarees from Telengana. The cotton body makes the saree great for festive wear in summer, as well as keeps the costs down. I stopped scrolling and watched her, the sarees were enchanting in every way but their price was the same range as my own handloom Gadwal cotton, bought some 30 years ago. I was really puzzled, of course you can't make out the clarity of the motifs in a video or the quality of the weaving or fabric, but how can even the worst quality come at the same price after 30 years, when the cost of everything has gone through the roof? Finally the lady explained - they were machine woven Gadwals. The penny dropped and so did my heart - plummeted in fact, right down to my toes.

 


I'm not one of those who always moan about the 'good ole days' and how 'in my time things were so much better' blah blah blah. To be honest they weren't. In so many ways - weavers were exploited even more, inequalities were greater, sarees with a single whiff of silk were reserved  only for royalty and those with serious moolah, most women didn't have the discretionary income to buy many sarees and let's not even get into the maternal mortality rates and the like. Most weaver-folk that worked those luscious garments never got to wear one in their entire lifetime. 


So nope, not pining for those days. Nostalgia for an imaginary glorious past is not my cup of coffee. Reminisce and recharge on feel-good memories and then get on with the job at hand is the modus operandi out here. The best of times is now or yet to come. 

 

I completely understand that technologies that democratise the luxe sarees so that more women can afford them can't be anything to condemn or to wish away. If a weaver can earn more and uplift his lifestyle and family  by working a power loom, why should he stick to handloom weaving just so some atavistic notion of conservation or tradition is satisfied? (Is he earning more though? That's a separate issue.) 


Kings and queens wore the handmade silks and lace and sequins, celebrities wear the haute couture. The hoi polloi has the choice to wear cheaper mass produced imitations or not have the option at all. Who is to say which is better?

 

And yet. The heart does what it does. It plummets. In some ineffable vague sadness of loss. Handlooms - the weaves, the motifs, the textures and colours even, feel like the last threads that connect me to my lost foremothers, to days of lost innocence. I cannot find those sarees they wore anywhere in the shops, the fish-scale borders, the 'window-louvre' stripes, the barely there 'water' stripes, the typical naksha paaRs, the plain aanchals.  Design and technological sophistication has swept away the old and brought in a tide of new things, some striking, some loud, all different in unpinpointable ways. Handloom skills are eroding, the market is changing - not everything changes for the better always, neither does everyone have the same perspective on tradition, on memory, on the significance of an unstitched piece of cloth.  

 

I understand perfectly that there's a need to make Gadwals  on machines. It's not as if Gadwals are not being made by hand still - they are, for a different class of consumer, at a different price point. I understand that power looms are here to stay. Those looms will price the handlooms out of the market one day. Only a few handloom weavers will remain catering to the elites, as they did centuries ago. The rest of us will wear the machine made stuff which truth be told, you'd never know if you didn't look closely or had an intimate knowledge of textiles. 

 

The genies almost never go back into their bottles. No one can turn the clock back, or for that matter, forward. Things happen on their own timescale. What has to be, will be. I truly believe nostalgia does not make a good compass. I do understand. But I also object. To those threads finally snapping and leaving me vaguely unmoored. 

 

~~~

 

Did you know that unstitched garments are held to be 'satvik' according to Hindu/Indian philosophy?  Satvik means pure, virtuous,  worthy and is a state more likely to be acceptable/pleasing to the gods. This is the reason why traditionally unstitched garments were worn to the temple and for religious ceremonies.


Btw, this preference for unstitched garments is not confined to India or Hindus alone. Muslim men from all over the world wear unstitched garments for performing the Hajj. In Biblical traditions, Jesus' wore an unstitched seamless robe before his crucifixion, which the soldiers did not cut up but cast lots for and kept whole. Most of our modern day depictions of super-heroes have them wear a cloak or cape of some kind. The appeal of an unstitched piece of clothing is undeniable and universal. 

 

Thank you for reading. And happy A-Zing to you for the rest of the challenge if you are participating. 



A-Z Challenge 2025 

5 comments:

  1. Hari OM
    It is hard not to be a little nostalic, at least, for these skills and artisanal practices... of course a difference these days is that many folk want constant change, always new, and do not favour the one masterful piece to last for years. Consumerism is as much to blame as mechanisation. The demand has to be met! (So the adverts say...) YAM xx

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  2. I really hope the weavers are being paid better. A living wage. Better working conditions etc. I could never hope to afford high priced garments either here or anywhere.

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  3. "threads snapping, leaving me vaguely unmoored" So poetic. You captured the changes and more in a perfect sentence. I feel ya!

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  4. As someone who makes things by hand for a living I totally understand the mourning that something precious will be lost when handcrafts are replaced with machine made (not to mention when human creativity is replaced by AI.) Surely there must be some way to keep handcrafts vibrant while also offering substitutes to make them accessible to more people?

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