A legacy is the invisible thread connecting the present to the past, like unforgotten whispers and aged but vivid memories. But there are more tangible objects than just mental imprints. Like an inheritance – a journal, an antique, or a sari perhaps? The six yards have evolved through many variations in drape and weaves. A sari is a document by itself, speaking of region, religion, craft, society, position and occasion – like a chronicle. Arguably, every Indian woman has a few exquisite samples in her wardrobe. They are her pride, joy and snobbery.
Somewhere among the modern chiffons and designer dazzlers, rests the most prized of them all – in sentiment, history and value. With memories as rusted as the zari, stories as numerous as the moth holes, connections as fragile as the fraying warp and weft, maybe unwearable, but the bond is unbreakable. It carries the spirit of three generations in a family; it is an assurance that will pass on to someone special, thereby creating a timeline. This is what we call an heirloom.
Verve invites five women from across the country – each accomplished in their own right – to unravel the stories that are intertwined with their most precious six yards.

The North-South Affair
June, Actress, Kolkata

At a time when almost every Bengali bride would unfailingly resort to wearing a loud red Benarasi brocade wedding sari, one young woman fell in love with South Indian subtlety and muted luxury. “She dared to be different,” actress June fondly recalls of her mother. “I am extremely proud of her taste.” The 40-year-old silk is the prized item in the wardrobe space of June, one of the most popular faces on television and film in Kolkata. The childhood memory of watching her mother in her wedding sari during special occasions is still fresh. “She used to look so pretty,” she remembers with a smile. “She made me fall in love with the sari forever.”

Rich olive, with an ornamental, geometric pattern across the body and an intricate, floral border woven in gold zari and silk thread, the Kanjivaram and Benarasi hybrid combines the best of the North and the South. This is a classic example of mid 20th century textile experiments, which had resulted in several successful cross-cultural styles – an intermingling of regional motifs, weaves and yarns. Innovations like these had, on the one hand, created watered down, market varieties with fancy names, but on the other hand, paved the way for the modern genre of ‘designer’ saris – where nothing is pure craft, but rather an amalgamation, retaining high quality.

June wore this exquisite piece for the first time when she was 16 years old. Ever since, the sari has become her “all time favourite garb”. She admits that it takes time and practice to gain mastery over the sensuous, but difficult garment. She smiles and tells us that she too has gone through the mandatory sari traumas and embarrassments. One would never guess, given the divine grace she exudes and the complete ease she portrays.

When the time comes to pass on the inheritance, the mother of two naturally puts her daughter on top of her list. “If she shows no interest, then maybe to my future daughter-in-law,” she says. A long way to go, though; but the potential recipient must acknowledge its great sentimental value. “It reminds me of my parents’ undying love for each other.”

Her passion for collecting unique saris has filled up her closet space but with quantity comes the responsibility of care regimes. “I keep all my saris in mul bags, with tobacco leaves in them. They keep the moths away,” she reveals her secret. “Every few months, I unfold and iron them and religiously air them.” What about damp smells? “Sandalwood incense in the wardrobe,” she finishes wisely.

The Lions And The Queen
Sangita Kathiwada, Entrepreneur, Mumbai

It was woven to commemorate the Queen of England’s visit,” narrates Sangita Kathiwada, as I study the red and gold brocade – a British Raj relic and obviously a very special piece – customised for a historic occasion. It is not a sari anymore. It is now a beautiful and unconventional lehenga. “See, it has English lions as the motif,” she urges me to study the weave. The jacquard depicts regal looking creatures of dignified and condescending ferocity (with stiff upper lips too...or is it my imagination?) perfectly mirroring the traits of our former rulers.

The yardage, which has been a family treasure for more than half a century, is an illustrious specimen of a particular textile genre – narratives through weaves, prints and embroideries. “Indian tradition, mythology, legends, philosophy, plenty of messages are delivered through them,” she reminds us. True, animal and human figures in animated scenarios have been prominent features in many of our regional crafts.

As a successful entrepreneur and owner of renowned multi-designer store Mélange, Kathiwada has always been inclined towards heritage and craft. The qualified graphic, jewellery, interior and ceramic designer runs her own non-profit organisation called Morcrafts. “I have actively participated in conferences which spread awareness about contemporary applications of ancient art forms,” she says. “That way, we can apply craft in our day-to-day lives and ensure its survival. Of course, quality matters immensely and can’t be compromised on.”

With her trained eye and sourcing skills, Kathiwada is as passionate about collecting old textiles, as she is about design. But passion should not be confused with sentiment, as she critically appreciates and analyses their worth historically. Monetary estimates are another story. “As yet, a standard for pricing old textiles has not been set correctly, in an organised manner,” she states matter-of-factly. Therefore, accurate values of these precious assets are hard to obtain. Although, if systems were set, she would not be opposed to participating in auctions or donating a piece to a museum. But “friends, family and true connoisseurs” would receive first preference.

While there are marked differences between the ancient and contemporary versions of the same craft, Kathiwada does not view this as deterioration of standards. “There is still some very good work being done,” she clarifies. “I, myself, have seen some fantastic revival of techniques.” She speaks from experience, as she has often come across ancient pieces that are in desperate need of repair or restoration. “I am acquainted with a few skilled restorers from Kashmir, Lucknow and Benaras,” she informs us. Of course, the details are not divulged; these are the secret aces in the industry’s resource book!

Rajasthan Romance
Shaina NC, Fashion Designer, Mumbai

The story began 150 years ago, when a young woman in Rajasthan looked resplendent in peach tissue on her wedding night. The crispness, feathery richness and the sheer and opaque play created a rosy, ethereal bride.

Three generations down, Shaina NC still considers this antique cache to be one of her greatest inspirations. Among India’s premier ethnicwear designers, NC is able to drape the sari in more than 100 different ways. Not surprisingly, many consider her to be the last word when it comes to the six yards. “I have explored the sari in every way,” she says. “But my great grandmother’s piece is still the most special.”

Technically, it is not a sari, though. “It is actually a skirt, choli and dupatta set,” the designer explains. “But the dupatta is really long, so it has to be taken around the skirt once, before draping it over the right shoulder and across the front of the torso. So it looks like a sari.” She touches the fabric. “The sheerness is sensual, yet pleating gives it modesty.”

How does this inspiration translate into her work? NC asks me to study the embroidery. “Look at the intricacy. That is real gold zari,” she says with a hint of pride. “They don’t make embroideries like that anymore. The material itself is almost impossible to find. And, it is all in the zardosi technique.” The entire piece is embroidered using only the delicate hand needle, which produces extremely fine work, but is excruciatingly laborious, unlike the faster aari technique, where the hooked needle is used on the fabric, stretched across the adda. “Still, I set it as a parameter,” adds NC. “If I achieve anything close, I feel rewarded.”

Although the embroidery and zari have survived, the original tissue (base fabric) has not. “It was so old, it disintegrated,” NC tells us. “So I transferred the original embroidery to another tissue yardage and matched the precise shade and weight.” For NC, wearing a piece of history on her own wedding night meant adding another level to her trousseau. “I have worn it quite a few times after that,” she recalls, “and been very careful, not to spill food, or rip it!” She has never considered framing it as display, or auctioning it. That would be blasphemous! “The essence is in wearing it. You add your own aura and pass it on....”

Pass it on to whom? “My daughter, of course!” she exclaims. No one else is special enough. “She will understand and respect its history and the value. The tradition must continue.”

A Century In Benaras
Kiran Uttam Ghosh,
Fashion Designer, Kolkata

While most women would go glassy eyed describing a priceless inheritance, Kiran Uttam Ghosh maintains her characteristic earthy humour, as she describes her 100-year-old purple and gold antique Benarasi brocade, with “volumes of history in its nine yards”. She delves into its story. “It belonged to my grandmother-in-law. She was extremely elegant. You know the scenario – wealthy old Bengali family, the kind that went to England for the Queen’s coronation, with family, butlers, hangers on and all that. Sadly squandered all their wealth on the good life....”

The self-proclaimed jhalli (casual) designer is rarely seen in a sari herself (“My saris almost always nearly fall out.”), though her experiments with the garment and their embroideries have made her a prominent name on India’s fashion map. “I wore it once with a fitted gold polo-neck top,” she speaks of her purple Benarasi. “It is timeless and comfortable. And at the risk of losing my job, a great relief from the overly embroidered saris which I see at weddings.”

Benarasi saris have for long been bridal staples, our international textile ambassadors and the synonym for traditional Indian regalia. Originally a brocade (jacquard weaves with zari), the saris have evolved into all-thread versions as well. From intricate floral motifs to paisleys and geometric jaalis, overtly garish and ostentatious to subtly luxurious, this ancient craft still remains a coveted asset and wardrobe status symbol, especially in Eastern India. Though most of the silk is sourced from Bangalore, and the saris are created in Benaras, the biggest market, till date, remains Kolkata.

Uttam Ghosh, ardent heritage enthusiast, is also a passionate collector. “There is something irresistible about an unusual weave, an antique fabric or a nice block printed sari,” she muses. “Old saris have been an inspiration for years.” Her profession requires her to scour manufacturing hubs for shining examples of authentic crafts and the textile trail has led her to Benaras many a time. Observing that the quality, material and motifs have undergone a lot of change over time, Uttam Ghosh disappointedly discovered that among the present crop of Benarasi weavers, “Only a very few do a great job of imitating old weaves.”

Her quirky sensibilities have often inspired her to use vintage saris as home décor. “I use them as throws on my sofas if I’m entertaining guests and also on the dining table if I’m not serving food.” She has never considered evaluating the worth of her pieces, or auctioning them off at a handsome price. Reluctant to let authentic but damaged-beyond-repair saris go to waste, she recycles. “I have made cushions and table mats in the past, as an accent, to add a splash of colour.”

Threads From The Raj
Suhani Pittie, Jewellery Designer, Hyderabad

Museums, if they had any inkling, would serenade Suhani Pittie for her collection of antique saris and textiles (yes, plural!), all passed down four generations in her family. Her earliest samples date back to the days of the British Raj. She shows us two beautiful pieces – a purple embroidered silk sari and a wine silk Jamdani. “They are approximately 100-125 years old. Maybe more,” says the young jewellery designer. “It’s amazing that a family which observed the purdah, allowed the women to indulge in such treasures…. The men in our family have always doted on the women.”

Bespoke luxury is an ancestral tradition. The purple silk base fabric, and even the embroidery threads, were actually imported and the skills of high-calibre embroiderers were put to the test for the customisation of the fully ornamented piece. “Just imagine how in those days, without machines…people would sit endlessly to craft one single sari,” Pittie expresses her admiration. “That passion...that dedication! In those days, they worked more for the love of the craft.”

The wine Jamdani demands attention, with its beautifully woven motifs and super-fine texture. Sourced from Aurangabad, the surprise element is the Paithani border. While the Jamdani originated in Nawab-ruled Bengal, as a combination of the local muslin weaves and Muslim motifs (first in cotton but gradually in silk as well), the Paithani is distinctly Maharashtrian – an ancient craft (since 200 BC) and one of India’s richest traditional weaves. Featuring motifs ranging from florals to elaborate figures, the Paithani has often been described as ‘a poem in silk and gold’. A combination of such different crafts from two far-flung regions, in those ages? A real rarity.

It is not surprising then, that heritage, culture and the quest for supreme quality is inherent in Pittie. The inspirations have been lying at home all along. “Passion, madness, possession of good craft form my ethos at work and attitude in life,” she says. “My ancestors have done such a terrific job of preservation, that I have never needed to restore anything.” The concept of ‘time standing still’, achieved through the excellently maintained heirlooms? Almost.

More than a century has passed and the present possessor is a contemporary urban woman, draping the luxurious yards on herself only occasionally. “I wear them with tights,” Pittie tells us. “I once carried it (the Jamdani) like a shawl over an ancient velvet skirt. But, I’m pathetic at making pleats,” she continues. “There have been many times that I’ve rushed to the washroom with some random ‘aunty’, screaming for help! Damage control – I wear brooches everywhere!”

Subscribe to Verve Magazine or buy the Verve issue on stands now!