CRAFT-BASED TEXTILES—NOWHERE EXCEPT
INDIA IS THEIR PRESENCE SO KEENLY FELT AS
PART OF A BURGEONING FASHION INDUSTRY.
It doesn’t matter if your budget stretches to the heights of
a couture gown by one of India’s top designers, a zardosi
number from one of the popular boutiques in Delhi’s Lajpat
Nagar, or a fresh kurta churidar outit from one of India’s
domestic retail chains: You will hear the same refrain—
craft, craft, craft. Whether handloom or surface decoration,
India’s fashion weeks are obsessed with craft. Glossy magazines
dedicate regular editorials to handloom, juxtaposing it with
luxury handbags and incorporating it into international
trends. It’s a subject of national pride and the object of
myriad government initiatives and funding. But who wins
and who loses in this game of textile patriotism? Which begs
the questions, what is ‘craft’ and why is Indian fashion so
consumed by it?
History provides a clue: In the post-independence era, a new
mood of optimism sought expression through the material
culture of architecture and public visual culture. Nehru
famously envisioned modernity through massive structural
engineering projects: Dams, roads, and even a complete
city—the Corbusier-designed marvel of Chandigarh.
Yet others (their mettle forged as freedom ighters, their vision
of India’s future steeped in Gandhian philosophy centered in
village economy) saw Nehru’s tectonic vision as emulative of
Western standards of modernity.
They wanted something diferent,
something uniquely ‘Indian’, and
surely that was to be found in the
rural traditions of making and India’s
rich heritage of textiles? It’s this vision
of a uniquely Indian modernity that
drove legendary activist Pupul Jayakar
to set up a raft of institutions devoted
to nurturing craft in the 1950s. Today
her reputation is mythical amongst
advocates and historians of craft. Those
of a certain age and milieu go misty-
eyed at the mention of Jayakar’s name.
Her intention was a ine one, but its
execution became inseparable from
the circles of power and privilege thatdeine the leafy avenues of Lutyen’s Delhi. To advocate for
craft is a privilege of the few. As Indian fashion has grown,
so too has the clamour to be seen to advocate for a craft-
based perspective. It confers the sheen of moral status, there’s
a whif of money, aristocracy even. And in a market where
bridal designers invent imaginary crests and shoot lookbooks
saturated with imagery of maharajas and maharanis, noblesse
oblige is all the rage.
Which brings us to one of the inherent problems with
craft, its enmeshment in centuries-old relations of caste and
patronage. It’s a thorny problem seldom addressed by craft
advocates. In conversation with a redoubtable advocate I was
told that even though, of course, caste is a terrible thing, “it
does give communities a certain structure”: Cue Marxist
Millennial facepalm.
Can fashion with its glamour and promise of democratic
access for all to a shining modernity, provide the answer?
What to make of the trend in recent years, of designers
making the penultimate grand gesture of bringing artisans
along with them on catwalk ramps to take a inale bow.
What to make of this extravagant virtue signaling? When
the lights dim and the metaphorical curtains come down,
then what? Is that craftsman paid more and do we remember
his or her name alongside that of the star designer? What
are their children’s prospects? What if their children don’t
want to be artisans, what if they want to be an astronaut,
computer engineer or even a fashion
designer? Does anyone pursue
these questions as the applause and
lights fade and the artisan ‘props’
return to the shadows?
Whenever craft is mentioned, why
do we take it for granted that craft
means a fair livelihood, when no one
really questions what a life enmeshed
in craft-based labour really means.
Does it mean self-determination
or drudgery? How can we separate
between caste and vocation? As we
gaze on yet another fashion spectacle
that puts craft at the centre, that
question should be at the forefront of
our minds. ■Politics, caste, and couture—columnist Phyllida Jay
covers it all as she traces India’s obsession with craftHistory provides
a clue: In the
post-Independence
era, a new mood
of optimism sought
expression
through the
material culture
CRAFT CULTURE
Phyllida JayBazaar
STYLE