It has been five years since I bought myself a new outfit for a festive occasion—with the exception of my wedding sari, of course. When you work in fashion and have a front row seat to the environmental implications of consumerism, you begin questioning your own consumption patterns. Besides, wearing an outfit that is singularly yours is a nice flex. At one of my work events, wearing a shirt made by upcycling an old abstract, printed sari gifted to my mother by one of her uncles, earned me a compliment from an artist I have long admired. At a recent pre-Diwali party, I wore my paternal grandmother’s red Mysore silk sari with a slinky black blouse and jewellery from my wedding. Karnataka Silk Industries Corporation will benefit from the number of people who have asked about my look. As I write this, my tailor on Hill Road, Mumbai, is turning my paternal grandmother’s checkered Ilkal sari into a jacket that I will wear soon.
Turns out, I am not the only one so acutely disinterested in refusing to buy run-of-the-mill outfits. Recently, at another pre-Diwali party, stylist Surbhi Shukla debuted a pink set—a midi skirt and a matching sleeveless top—stitched by her “favourite master ji”. It was made with a brocade mekhela chador fabric her mother bought for her from Guwahati, Assam. Tired of Mumbai’s heat and humidity, she wanted something that would help her feel comfortable. “Our indigenous sartorial intelligence offers a rather wonderful repertoire of styles, silhouettes, fabrics and weaves that lend themselves to the weather, and extend well beyond the sari and lehenga,” she says.
In Bangalore, Karnataka, Susan Fernandes runs a store called Pride of Place, where she upcycles old saris and clothes brought by her clients from across the globe into bomber jackets, dresses and overlays with a team of trusted pattern makers and tailors. Fernandes, whose grandmother taught her to stitch when she was just 9 years old, takes pride in personalising every piece into a new outfit that will last at least 20 years. “I sit with my clients and have a long chat about their lifestyle and what they need the outfit for,” says Fernandes. “I will then suggest a design based on the fall of the fabric and how it cuts.”
Mumbai-based fashion stylist Ekta Rajani’s Instagram page is enough to convince you that you don’t need many good pieces; you need a few good, versatile options that can be mixed and matched and can last a while. Rajani often boasts about pieces she bought over a decade ago that can be styled in different ways for different occasions.
I stopped buying clothes for special occasions because I refuse to pay an exorbitant price for clothes which don’t even feel personal. Upcycling or rewearing pieces from the wardrobes of those I love helps me feel close to them—even when they are no longer with me. Before my paternal grandmother passed, she asked me to pick saris from her collection. “When you wear them, you will think of me,” she said.
