Monsoon 09 Textile Details

Many people have told me that my website should have a zoom facility so that they can see the texture of the fabric and some of the garment details. I was in such a hurry to get a website done within a certain budget that I didn't look into providing some of the options that you often see on websites that have online shopping (which is a pity because the photos don't always do justice to a garment made from fabric with so much depth). It's probably going to be a while before I get the website re-vamped again (it's a painful amount of micro-managing every time) and I know a home photography job isn't the best way to show the textile details, but here are some photos of the fabrics from the latest Monsoon Collection

Silk ikat woven in Andhra Pradesh for "Black Orchid".
Mud resist block printing done on tussar-cotton fabric in Kaladera, Rajasthan for "Cinched Kimono".

Soft cotton twill handwoven in Andhra Pradesh for "Comfort Skirt"

Jamdaani (the black motifs done by adding an extra weft by hand) on khadi cotton, handwoven in Andhra Pradesh for "Lady Bird"

Handwoven cotton with coloured ribs from Andhra Pradesh, for "Snapdragon".
Some of these photos have two fabrics to show other colour options in the same style.

Big Picture with Little Details

In my most focused moments at work, I am a bit neurotic about little details. I look at a garment and scream when one arm hole looks bigger than the other, and I walk into my store and remind myself to take deep breaths when I see paint peeling off the walls (I’ll never get to the bottom of that annoying leakage problem). I often get annoyed when people tell me that these little details are not important and it’s the big picture that matters. But to me the details are everything and without that you have nothing! Of course when I’m feeling less neurotic or a bit lazy then I’m able to shrug it off (told you not to sweat the small stuff), but of late I’ve realized that it’s not about small details versus the big picture. The two go hand in hand and it is vital to keep switching back and forth to stay on track (and to maintain your sanity).

I don’t know why it took me so long to realize this- it does seem like intuitive common sense after all- but two incidents last week helped me arrive at this conclusion. The first was an exchange between Mala Sinha of Bodhi and me. I wrote a post about Mala last year when I visited her workshop in Baroda. Recently I wanted to place an order with her and I was so impressed to receive these “strike offs” in the print I had asked for with various colour options. I had asked for this print (shown below) in indigo on tussar fabric. Before going into production, Mala sent me a few options including her personal recommendation (indigo on light blue) that ended up looking much nicer than what I had originally ordered. How many printers will take that kind of trouble to show you a different colour options on the fabric you want? Most of them will just tell you that different fabrics absorb colour differently and that you should not expect a 100% colour match.


(Mala's strike offs. The right most one was her recommendation).

Thinking about Mala’s service made me realize that for every one of her buyers who places an order, there must be at least ten others who ask for different colour variations but don’t follow up with an order. Providing that service to everyone must take up a lot of time and effort, however if she didn’t provide that service, then she might not have people like me writing about her or a set of loyal customers who appreciate her consistent good quality. Taking effort over the little details does pay off in this case.

The second incident was a mildly unpleasant experience with a retail store last month after which I realized that if I don’t think about the bigger picture and the long run, then I might be setting myself up for more experiences similar to this one. The experience in question had to do with the retail store not taking enough care about the little details that really matter (like sales statements and listing of inventory with a clear system for summing up totals, calculating commission, etc). At my own store when I see details left out of the accounts book or the inventory book (yes, it’s still handwritten but we’re going electronic in a month) I freak out and make sure my staff corrects the mistakes immediately. But we do have a system in place and my sales assistants know the importance of maintaining these records for our internal checks. How do businesses manage to grow if they are not picky about these little details? So instead of being impatient to make money and retailing in other cities, I need to do more homework and work with someone who gets the little details in the bigger scheme of things. Plus it doesn't hurt to have some terms and conditions agreed upon in writing.

Now that I finally get this big-picture-little-details logic, I need to figure out a way to keep reminding myself of it.

Fresh Air, Fresh Ideas

Whenever I feel burdened with mundane work to the point where I’m losing sight of my goal and I don’t have enough time to design, I usually plan a trip to meet with suppliers. These trips always motivate and refresh me, reminding me of what’s more important than the small details: the bigger picture in relation to the handloom and textile crafts industry in India.

July and August this year were difficult months with staff issues, so as soon as they were somewhat under control I took off with my mom on a short trip to Ahmedabad and Baroda. In Baroda I went to visit Mala Sinha, a textile designer who graduated from NID. Mala runs her own company called Bodhi, and she prints her own designs on saris and yardage.

Touring the Bodhi workshop was like discovering my dream factory. A “colour kitchen” has dyes neatly stored with apparatus to make sure the correct dye amount (it’s measured and weighed) is used for each shade. Recipes for shades and colour combinations are documented for each print, and this is done separately for each fabric because different yarns have different capacities to absorb colour. I have had many experiences with my handloom and block-print suppliers not being able to match colour swatches or not being able to replicate their own work in the same colour shades. Mala makes it look so easy with her documents for how to replicate each print. If only other weavers and printers had her vision. Mala should really get invited to run a training workshop that other printers and tie-dyers can attend!

Another feature that motivated me at the Bodhi workshop was the use and recycling of rain water. Rainwater is collected in large tanks every monsoon and that water is used for washing and dyeing. The used water goes to a filter system with Canna plants that clean the water. That water is re-used again for fabric washing and dyeing. Seeing the impressive system there reminded me of another one of my long term goals: helping my suppliers set up infrastructure that is more environmentally friendly. My fiance was the one who first commented on the effluence created by dyeing when we visited my leheria supplier in Jaipur. Most craftsmen have a small setup with no treatment plant for their waste water, so it just flows out to the drainage system and will probably damage the soil. Bodhi’s water treatment plant is simple and effective, and a fabulous example to anyone who wants to be responsible about their production process.

Below are pictures from the Bodhi workshop/factory.

The precision required to measure dyes.

[Colourful] Grey water before the purification process and the Canna filter bed.

Mala Sinha of Bodhi

R&D in the Textile Industry

I realized today that my Monsoon Collection comes out in less than a month and I haven’t spent any time writing about the design process or the themes for this collection. I wanted to experiment more with colour, with ikat, and with prints, so this collection is going to be a lot more dramatic than the previous ones (in a subtle, Brass Tacks kind of way of course!) Unfortunately, as is often the case, many of the fabrics that I’ve used didn’t turn out quite like how I expected. Not that they turned out looking bad, but the difference is very visible and it makes a huge difference to the overall impact of the outfit.

I’ve often wondered how that misunderstanding between me and my suppliers happen, especially since all my letters are illustrated with detailed explanations. At first I used to think it was because of my poor Hindi that the suppliers would often misinterpret or overlook certain details in my order. Now I’m starting to think that the best way to get the job done is to have a textile designer working closely with them- a Brass Tacks employee who works on my design team to come up with designs for each collection and then coordinates with the suppliers to execute the designs. Seems like an expensive investment, but definitely something I need to look into in the long run. Next month I am making a trip to Jaipur and Ahmedabad, and hopefully I will be able to meet some faculty and students at NID who work with textile craftsmen and see what they think about this.

Ideally though, the craftsmen should have their own textile designer on their team. Things would be a lot easier for buyers if the designer can help the craftsmen come up with a set of swatches to send to suppliers, and a documentation system so that the swatches can be replicated relatively easily. The designer could also make life easier for the supplier by working on new designs and new techniques of dyeing or weaving to cater to a variety of tastes. The investment of a full time textile designer is too expensive for the craftsmen who work at a grass roots level however, and only larger organizations like Rehwa and Dastkar Andhra can afford to invest in research and development with textile designers on board. The tough part about a small company like mine hiring a full time textile designer is that he or she would have to be an expert on a variety of textile crafts in order to work with weavers, block printers, and tie-dyers. That kind of varied expertise is hard to find.

In other related news, I recently met a woman with an MBA who wants to start a business supplying designers and production houses with handloom fabrics that have an “international market”. This would involve organizing weaver’s cooperatives to use their craft skills for designs that are not necessarily traditional. For example, it could mean that a weaver in Gujarat who makes shawls with a large motif woven all over it might have to change his design to smaller motifs that are woven far apart because that minimal look with a hint of extra weft design is easier to sell to an international buyer. The issue of modifying traditional designs to suit a “cosmopolitan, urban, international” market is something that I’ll take up in some other post, but for the moment let’s see the practical and financial benefits. This is the innovation that’s needed to revive and organize the textile sector. Catering to an existing demand is a much better business model than trying to push a product that doesn’t have a huge demand at price points that are profitable for the business. Plus for designers like me, think how easy it would make our lives if we could just contact someone, explain the design to them and pay that extra fee to pass your headache of following up with suppliers and ensuring they get your design right onto the agent.

Below is a picture showing the sample I had sent the weaver on the left, and his woven product on the right. The size of the checks and the dull finish in the sample swatch make all the difference to the final look of the fabric.

And here is a block printed fabric from Rajasthan. The checked design is theirs, but I had asked for a darker blue with ochre and instead I got something that's closer to turquoise with ochre. Also, notice the quality of the checks and how some of them are not well defined.

This one however came closer to what I had asked for in terms of colour matching my pantone shades.

100 hours to Jaipur

I do a lot of work with block printers and tie-dyers in Jaipur. Last year when I visited them, I had a wonderful time seeing their work and experiencing their hospitality. I was both shocked and sad to hear the news about the bomb blasts in this colourful and diverse city. My heart goes out to the people of Jaipur and especially to those who lost family and friends.

I’m often told that I like to do things the complicated way. A whole lot of this has to do with my focus on getting things right (translation: perfect). But in my defense, my methods are perceived as complicated because the systems I have to go through are riddled with hurdles. Even something simple like sending a package via courier can get really tricky.

Take the case of my relationship with my mud-resist block printer in Jaipur. Their work is very creative and their colour combinations are beautiful. However I do not care too much for their cotton fabric. It’s certainly not bad for the sixty rupees per metre they charge for their printed fabric, but it doesn’t have the smooth polish of mill-made mercerized fabric or the interesting texture of certain handwoven fabrics. So what I do is I buy a more expensive mill-made cotton fabric from an Arvind Mills distributor in Chennai and then courier it to my supplier for printing.

My supplier doesn’t have a good way of keeping track of orders like mine where the order comes with fabric that has to be paired with the corresponding design/print order. The more complicated part however, is reaching the fabric to my supplier.

The first time I sent the fabric to my supplier via speed post. The government speed post is kind of like the tortoise in a race with no hare. I mean, the package will each its destination, but not in a hurry. Chennai to Jaipur took 3 weeks. They charged Rs 50 per kilogram.

The second time I decided to try this really shady service that charged Rs 10 per kg from Chennai to Jaipur via train. Now I regret the allure of “cheap and best” because I ended up paying Rs 20 per kg to have the package door delivered to my supplier (which they finally didn’t do), plus here in Chennai I had to deliver the package to their office near the railway station. This wasn’t half as bad as the constant calling and tracking I had to do before I called up my supplier and explained my embarrassing situation. He eventually picked up the package himself from the courier office in Jaipur. Chennai to Jaipur took 3 days, and another week before my supplier picked it up.

The third time I wanted to go with GATI, a well known and reputed courier service. One of my suppliers in Hyderabad sends my orders via GATI and although they are fairly expensive, they are supposed to be reliable. If only it were that simple - GATI wanted me to get a road permit signed by my supplier with his sales tax number printed on the form. Considering my suppliers are based out of remote villages near Jaipur, this is another 3 weeks added to the ordering process. No thanks, GATI.

If cost wasn’t an issue I would use Blue Dart- both fast and reliable- but courier costs alone would force me to double the price of my final garment.

So finally I sent my package through Skylark Express. Rs 30 per kg, door delivery to my supplier, no road permit required, and it will take 3 to 4 days.

I’m keeping my fingers crossed.

Transformation

My exposure to fabric started at a young age when I would explore my mother’s closet. My mother co-started a store in Chennai called Shilpi- where she and her partner worked hard to source handwoven sarees from all over India. So without being told or even taking much interest in my mother’s work, I assimilated her aesthetic sense for natural fabrics, earthy colours, interesting designs, colour combinations that are bold but not loud, and most of all her passion for the craftsmen and their work.

I won’t go into the details of why the handloom sector is shrinking today. The price of powerloom fabrics, the competition in the market, the lack of demand for fabric that is hard to maintain are just a few reasons. So what can be done to increase the demand for handwoven fabric? There are companies like Fabindia that deserve massive props for making traditional textile crafts so accessible with their affordable price range and product variety, and then there are high end designers who employ intricate handwork as embellishments on garments. What’s in between? Anokhi has fabulous blockprints, and there are small businesses like mine that use traditional fabric while trying to give the final product a contemporary feel.

What we do here at Brass Tacks is more than just converting handwoven fabric into a garment with a western silhouette. We hope to create a change in the way the textile industry operates and the way people perceive traditional textile crafts (very lofty I know, but bear with me for a few more lines). By marrying traditional textile crafts with a very contemporary, urban look, I hope to change the way people understand these fabrics. Sometimes I alter a textile design or use a traditional skill to create a contemporary design or use a modern colour combination so that the overall look of the garment is still modern, and hopefully somewhat cosmopolitan.

I’ll stop here with two examples from previous collections. I could go on about my goals and my brand vision for several posts…


This is an ikat shirt. Ikat is an old craft process of tie-dying yarn before the fabric is woven, so in order to create a design a lot of calculation has to go into the yarn dying. I’ve broken up the homogeneity of the ikat with the strips of brown fabric, and the pin-tucks are just to give it an urban context. The entire shirt is cotton and silk.


This is one of my favourite shirts- Art Deco. The checks are actually a traditional block at Chaubundi, Rajasthan. The checks are not printed directly- first the block is dipped into a mixture of clay, lime, natural gum resin and wheat and then that mixture is printed onto the fabric that has been dipped into a mordant to allow for easy absorption of colour. Finally, the fabric with the printed mixture is dipped into a dye and the area of the fabric that is not covered with the mixture gets dyed. Very tedious, but worth it. The rani pink (hot pink) piping is to give it a Rajasthani flavour.