If sari were a woman, she would be an apsara from Ajanta and Ellora. Only such grace and beauty could do justice to the magic of the garment, believes Shobhaa De who venerates the drape. It's another matter that the Ajanta nymphs don't wear saris - or much else for that matter. But for De, they epitomise womanly poise and femininity, the true essence of a sari.

De's romance with the sari started way back in her early teens. She credits her older sister with introducing her to the treasure trove of traditional Indian weaves. "She had a phenomenal collection but she didn't let me touch it. That was my big frustration." The first sari De wore at 15 to a formal garden party in school - a classic emerald-green gadwal with a wide kumkum red and gold border-was her sister's, though. De even had her hair done up in a bouffant with a French twist. "I'll never forget what I felt wearing that sari - adult, sophisticated and very feminine. It had such a high impact."

The sari is De's most favoured look for herself. She also believes it's the best look for most Indian women. "It's my challenge to the entire international designer community - Armani, Dolce & Gabbana or whoever - to improve the sari. A sari is very proactive. It demands participation from the wearer. It's not a passive garment. It makes you more creative. I've got saris going back 30 years or more. I update them when I feel like wearing them and they always look contemporary." For De that's a fashion statement for any garment. That if it never dates, and if you can reinvent it and you can reinvent yourself in it, it becomes something eternal. "A sari is a classic. It's forever."

Adept at discovering untapped niches and converting them into money-spinners - she introduced Hinglish to Indian publishing, broke the taboo of writing explicitly about sex in Indian novels, and scripted the first daily socialite soap, Swabhimaan - De's idea of cocktail saris came out of an ongoing inner dialogue on how to extend the sari's appeal to younger women. "I might enjoy carrying off a very heavy temple sari - and for me there can be nothing better than that - but how do you make the temple look work in a contemporary context? That is the challenge. A lot of women in our metros are looking for options that are traditional yet contemporary. Cocktail sari fits that niche." De believes women can wear a sari comfortably to a soirée followed by a theatre performance and then go to a formal dinner. "It works for all three occasions on the same night without looking ridiculous. You could even wear a cocktail sari to an art opening in New York."

Classic with a contemporary twist is how De describes her labour of love. Her current collection comprises summary georgettes and organzas with crepes and silks to follow later as part of the festive range. "My spring range is sort of Japanese inspired. I love all things Japanese, their aesthetic is very much in sync with our own."

Purist in her contempt for the bastardising of Indian weaving traditions - a paithani must be made in Paithan, not Benaras, she stresses - De delights in the eclecticism of cocktail saris. "Cocktail saris are fun, glam, bling. They can be really OTT. I think that's the point of wearing them - the fact that they are so au courant and versatile. If I were to wear a white mukaish from my collection, it would look fairly classic on me. But if my daughter were to wear it, she would accessorise it differently, wear it with an itsy-bitsy blouse and really sex it up."

"At this stage of my life, I have nothing to prove. I'm not here to take on the design world." As she reasons, a sari is a sari at the end of the day. Women want to look beautiful in it. That is her only premise. "In my mind, these are really feel-good saris. When you buy them, you aren't getting ripped off. Nor are they so overdramatic that you wear them once and don't know what to do with them in the fear that someone might say 'Oh my God, didn't I just see her in it last month?'"