Winter '09 Collection Details

Benaras with ruching detail

Paper Kurta in khadi cotton with dart details

Silky Water with button details


Chikan Trellis with Chikan embroidery detail

Ikat Paradise

Perusing a fabric storage unit is always physically stressful. I have an acute fabric dust allergy, and a storage unit with tons of unwashed fabric sends me into a sneezing frenzy from which I take a full day to recover. Still, I can never refuse the opportunity to go through a supplier’s storage of fabric because I usually discover at least one fabulous piece that I would never have seen otherwise; usually suppliers tend to send swatches of their latest fabrics rather than an old forgotten piece lying in their ‘godown’.

In the last couple of months I’ve been keen on developing ikat fabrics with large motifs, similar to the ikat designs I’ve seen in antique pieces from Uzbekistan and Kazakhstan. I took a few print outs of images I found online and in encyclopedias and sent them to my supplier, Manasa Ikat Fabrics, in Hyderabad for reference. He said it would be difficult to develop and asked if I could just choose from his own collection. He sent me some swatches, but except for one, I didn’t care too much for the others- they were large motifs but they looked like Indian home furnishings fabric.

During my trip to launch my Monsoon Collection at Daaram in Hyderabad last week, I visited his fabric godown. I found just what I was looking for and more. Here are pictures of Central Asian designs and some others that I really loved; my trip there was definitely worth the clogged sinus.

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.

Behind again

There was a time, not so long ago, when I had my collections planned out for the entire year ahead. Even if I hadn’t ordered the fabrics, at least knew what I was going to order; saving me hours of time deciding which colour, which design and which print to order. Now I’ve found myself running behind schedule for the winter collection (I’m still ordering my fabrics and will probably have to launch the collection a few weeks later than planned), and since I’ve been spending time focusing on the higher level stuff I’ve let go of a lot of small but important details.

The solution isn’t really to cut out on the higher level stuff- it’s important that I concentrate on the branding and marketing aspect of my business – but I guess I need to manage my time a lot better until I can afford an efficient assistant. I wouldn’t have put so much thought into coming out with a new pricing scheme for my collection (which is I think is paying off by the way) or listened harder to customer feedback about the lack of bright colours if I wasn’t spending the amount of time that I have analyzing past sales and talking to customers at the store. However all the new information that I have now has made me a slower decision maker (translation: indecisive). I think ten times before ordering fabrics now (“will this really be popular and still stand out as different?”) and I spend more time explaining design ideas to my suppliers.

This new process is a little more tedious, I have to admit. When I wasn’t thinking about customer appeal I selected fabrics that were more representative of my taste and my design aesthetic. Now I’m conscious of sales and catering to a wider variety of tastes that my customers have. So rather than nurturing that innate instinct that drew me to a particular fabric I am trying to hone my data analysis skills to choose fabrics that will increase my store popularity. Serves me right for majoring in economics.

All this high level work has resulted in the suffering of other small details (or low level management) that went a long way. I’ve stopped doing my random checks on garments at the production unit and I’m starting to find small errors with finished garments at the store. I’ve stopped my training sessions with my sales staff and I find they are settling into complacency. When do founders of businesses get to leave behind the small stuff to focus only on high level decision making?

Right now I’m ordering ikat fabrics for an ankle length cotton dress for the spring collection. I had originally wanted Uzbekistan ikat inspired designs, but those might be hard to design and replicate in Andhra. So here are some designs from my supplier in Andhra and I’m trying to figure out which ones would work better and what colours I should change. Think of these fabrics made into a thin cotton dress, fitted at the empire line and with a halter neck or a low neck with thin shoulder straps. Thoughts or suggestions?

I really like this one but might have to change a few colours to make it look brighter. Perhaps indigo instead of black or fill the white spaces with indigo.

This has promise but needs a complete colour makeover. I was thinking of going ultra modern with yellow, pink and peacock blue (it will look muted when mixed with the off-white weft yarn).

Flirting with Lycra

Geeky blog title I know, but I can explain. A couple of months ago I bought these fabulous cotton pants with a little lycra woven into the fabric. They fit me perfectly and they are so versatile- for hot and cool days, for almost every occasion, and for pretty much every top I own. I love these pants so much that I rarely wear my jeans or my own Brass Tacks linen pants anymore. One evening I washed my pants at night so that I could wear them again the next morning and that’s when I realized there was something strange going on here. As my own brand ambassador, it is hypocritical that I live in trousers that Brass Tacks doesn’t produce?

One of Brass Tacks’ selling points, using only natural fibres, evolved while explaining my brand’s specialty to entrepreneurs and marketing consultants. Many of them liked the idea of natural fabrics because selling yourself as an eco-friendly brand is really in vogue right now. For me using natural fabrics was a given (rather than a choice) because I never wear synthetic fibres, barring the occasional cotton garment with lycra mixed into the weave. The real selling point of my brand, to me, is the marriage of handwoven textiles with a cosmopolitan, tailored look.

I have always maintained that in order to complete an outfit, I may use mill-made fabric (like my linen trousers). So then is it so bad to use a bit of lycra in my trousers to create a more fitted look if it completes an outfit? Some of my kurtas (worn like tunics) and mini-dresses do look best with leggings or really fitted Capri pants- neither of which I make. Also, for my collection photo-shoots I’m forced to pair all my tops, kurtas, and mini-dresses with my linen trousers even though I know some of them would look much better with a fitted pair of pants (I don’t think it’s fair to show an outfit on the website unless it’s 100% Brass Tacks). But the real question here is why am I not making a complete outfit in my own company if I am constantly recommending a pair of leggings or fitted Capri pants to customers who buy my tunics? Would I be letting down my brand, or could using lycra enable me to sell more hand-loom garments? Studies (seconded by my experiences in retail) show that women are more likely to make a purchase if they can buy a complete outfit in the same store.

I used to think I was the only one with a strange waist-hip proportion that made it hard to shop for trousers in India. Talking to my friends and customers has made me realize that there are very few brands that exist in India that retail affordable, well-cut trousers (with or without lycra). This is just more incentive to provide more variety at my store, and add one well-cut pair of cotton trousers and another fitted pair with lycra.

But as you can see I’m a bit torn. I don’t want to get greedy and in the process dilute my brand image. So send in your thoughts and feedback; reassure me or dissuade me.

Above, an example of a tunic that would look better as a complete outfit with fitted pants rather than the looser linen ones shown here.

Hyderabad, Show Me Love

For the last 8 months I’ve been working on a project that I am really excited about. It all began around a year ago when I met with the owners of Daaram, a store in Hyderabad, and they expressed an interest in retailing my brand there. Daaram is run by Dastkar Andhra, a non-profit dedicated to promoting handloom fabric, and because of our common passion we immediately got along. Latha, one of the partners at Daaram, seemed really keen on working with me because she felt that I could give her team of designers ideas on what kinds of handloom fabrics would work well for contemporary silhouettes; in the long run that kind of input will help handloom weavers compete with powerloom and mill made fabric suppliers.

In the last 6 months, while working on my Summer and upcoming Monsoon collections, the design team at Dastkar Andhra has been really patient with changing colours, fabric construction and weaves to suit my tastes. I often place orders asking, “Can you make yardage with fabric construction from A, the colours from B but change the green lines to the blue shade from fabric C”. Luckily for me, they oblige me whenever they can (there are rare exceptions like when the weavers of Muramunda refuse to weave in anything but Kora).

So this Thursday, on July 9th, Brass Tacks will launch in Hyderabad at Daaram. I’m nervous about the response, excited to reach out to more people, but mostly thrilled to have this opportunity so early in my business.

Chasing After Suppliers

I have never really understood why suppliers have a pricey approach to their customers. I am talking about weavers, printers, tie-dyers and large textile cooperatives who promise to send swatches so I can place an order but never live up to their words. You could just chalk it down to a cultural difference or disorganization, but it’s at a higher level too. I met an urban educated manager of a large non-profit set up to promote handloom fabric at a craft exhibition in February and only after incessant emails and phone calls did I finally get some swatches (gorgeous ones, however) last week.

What is sometimes frustrating is that I try to do whatever it takes to keep my customers happy (like driving to a customer’s house to deliver her urgent alteration on Christmas day) but very few suppliers think of their clients as customers who are giving them business. I tell my sales staff that we have to be polite to every customer, even if we know some are bigger shoppers and others are just window shoppers. It is the opportunity that a window shopper today will buy something for herself tomorrow that we don’t want to lose out on. Plus, I want everyone who comes to my store to have a pleasant experience; it’s just not nice to discriminate.

With fabric suppliers I have to call and introduce myself to ask for swatches (sample cuttings), follow up with a text message (sms) to tell them my office address, call again a few days later to remind them, and so on. At first I used to think it’s because they knew my order quantities would eventually be small, which means I was less important than some of their bigger buyers, but recently while talking to a manager of a large cooperative I made sure I didn’t mention my order quantities. Perhaps they are heavily understaffed and have no one else to pass the job onto. But if that is the case -and I empathize completely- wouldn’t it be easier to be up front about it rather than ignoring emails or saying the swatches will be sent the next day?

There are exceptions to the rule (Eco-Tasar in Delhi is run very professionally) and there is an interesting pattern I am seeing in these suppliers with service inertia. Very often I have found that the suppliers who took ages to send me swatches are the ones who had the more interesting textile designs and better quality work. For example, after 8 months of calling my cut-work supplier in Varanasi and pestering him with text messages, I received some beautiful swatches the other day (pics below). This means that with a little thick skin and persistence, it is possible to get to the good stuff.


Cut-work swatches from Prabha Traders (more delicate and flowery than my usual favourites, but beautiful nevertheless).

It's an Acquired Taste

I know that I cater to a very niche market through Brass Tacks, but sometimes I worry that within that niche my personal favourites probably cater to just a handful. This isn’t to say I don’t like everything I design; it just means that I’m aware of my taste and my tendency to choose fabrics that are not necessarily popular.

I’ve known this for a while, especially with my love for checks and stripes. I have used these fabrics before, but I’m always hesitant and I carefully pick the ones that I think will have universal appeal.

Recently I’ve been feeling a lot more strongly about my passion for traditional checks. Why should I choose only the checks that cater to a wide audience- isn’t part of creating a brand image having a distinct point of view and taking a few risks? A conversation I had with one of my customers the other day made me realize that if I spend too much energy focusing on what will sell really well, I might lose touch with my inspiration, thereby losing the point of view I set out to show. This customer (she’s a textile designer) was there to talk to the host of a show on NDTV-Hindu* about my store, and she told me that while she loves the fact that I use soft, thin cotton that crushes, she probably shouldn’t say that on TV because most people dislike that about cotton. Hearing her say that reminded me of a look that I too love. Sometimes I get so wrapped up trying to change the associations people have of traditional textiles in order to create something that is cosmopolitan, urban and marketable, that I forget (or push aside) what I love. Soft, thin cotton that crushes at your elbows and knees has a certain old world charm to it that I love. It’s natural in a very honest way unlike stiff, starched cotton or poly-cotton blends. Those may not crinkle, but they lack soul.

A huge focus at Brass Tacks is to take handloom fabric, and re-articulate them as modern silhouettes. It’s not enough to think about how a fabric may feel, or how a style may look. The final combination of fabric, silhouette, drape and tailoring forms a product that will trigger certain associations for customers. It’s my personal opinion that there are many women in India who feel that khadi, crushed cotton, and other traditional textiles are frumpy or old-school in a very unfashionable way. Especially when it comes to woven textiles, the traditional checks are not popular because ...well, I really don’t know why. Maybe not enough high-end designers make it look glamorous in the way that they make embroidery and sequins on chiffon silk look glamorous? A lot of textile magazines and books that I read lead me to believe that our traditional checks would be really popular in Europe and the pockets of the US and Japan, and maybe that’s because their associations of that fabric are different.

Recently I went through my mother’s collection of old Kanjeevaram sarees and I’m in love with them. The stripes and checks are amazing; with colour combinations I would never have imagined would look so stunning. I’m determined to use textiles inspired by these designs, but apparently no weaver in Kanjeevaram will weave cotton yardage anymore. That’s not my main problem though: the toughest challenge at hand is to design styles with these textiles, while staying true to the design aesthetic of these stripes and checks. Below are a few photos from my mother’s collection.






*The shoot at my store was for a show on NDTV-Hindu, and will air in about a month. I am so thankful to everyone who came over that day and spent so much time helping out. Really, I was touched to see how many people came and patiently waited for camera time.

Kora Weaves Only Please

*Kora is an off-white colour, the natural colour of cotton.

One of my suppliers in Secunderabad has a talented design team that produces beautiful weaves in cotton. I’m really excited about my relationship with this supplier because a few months ago they approached me to work closely with them to develop fabrics that I can use for Brass Tacks. They are concerned that the competition with power-loom and mill made fabric is causing the market for handwoven fabric to shrink. When I spoke to them I mentioned that I often come across handwoven fabric that looks striking, but because of the fabric construction it does not work for tailored garments. My current work with this supplier is to find ways to make hand-woven fabrics “imitate” power-loom or mill-made fabrics in terms of strength and construction.

Traditionally, the need for tighter weaves with greater strength didn’t arise because both the dhoti and the sari are yards of woven fabric tied around the body without any tailoring. While it is true that for some thin fabrics the soul and beauty of the fabric is lost when the construction is altered, many other handwoven fabrics that are modified for tailoring still maintain their charm. For the last few months I’ve been really into undefined, irregular woven checks- the kind that are woven with random ikat lines of different colours in the warp and weft (see photo below). This supplier must have a design team that shares my taste because they have a fabulous collection of irregular checks. Particularly stunning were the swatches of kora checks woven on kora fabric.





I fell in love with this fabric right away. It’s amazing how design ideas just flood my brain when I see/feel/touch a fabric that I’m really excited about. I already have a great double layered dress cut on the bias planned with that fabric, as well as a light shirt with pleats. Thrilled to work with this fabric, I placed an order for 4 different checked patterns, except I wanted them in blue, lavender, brick red, and orange.

A couple of days ago I got a phone call from my supplier saying that the weaver society that makes that fabric is very reluctant to work with coloured yarn and that they will only weave that same pattern in kora (the natural colour of cotton: off-white). After talking on the phone for a few minutes I learned that even if my supplier had the yarn dyed in the colour I want and then sent it to the weavers, they would still not be willing to weave the fabric. I am asking for exactly the same construction, the same weave, the same pattern, same everything except for the colour. I was dumbstruck, to say the least, and issues like this one make me think of the huge task ahead of me as I expand my business and experiment more with handwoven fabrics. The lead designer offered a few explanations: that the weavers are too set in their ways and very resistant to change, and, a technical issue, that it is harder to spot weaving defects once the eye has got used to seeing plain kora. I hope that going forward weavers will come out of their box and be willing to experiment. Sure, right now they have a huge market for their kora fabric just the way it is, but believe me, that fabric can go places in colour. Until then, the immediate solution is to have the fabric woven in kora and then dye the entire fabric afterwards. It is a bit of a compromise (the fabric looks less patchy if it is yarn dyed), but what am I going to do?

Research and Documentation

A friend of mine once told me that Indians haven’t done a good job of documenting our history and our knowledge. She was referring in particular to the field of traditional medicine and healing techniques. In the last few weeks, while I’ve been gathering research material for a section on textile crafts that I plan to have in the new Brass Tacks website (that’s right- coming up very soon), I realized that even in the area of textiles where so much has been written, it is still hard to find books that explain the crafts in a language that is easy to comprehend. Many of the essays are detailed analyses related to economics and the textile sector, and many of the coffee table books are more for visual appeal with just a paragraph of information on the origin of the craft or details of the technique.

There is one visual guide on world textiles by John Gillow that provides, albeit only for famous or popular textiles, clear explanations on craft techniques from different parts of the world. Since the book is a visual guide however, it does not go into the details of different designs or variations within a craft, and it does not provide much insight into the origin of the crafts either. For example, I am not sure why the world famous Varanasi sarees that use an extra weft technique in gold and silver are referred to by the Bengali word for extra weft: Jamdani. The Craft Revival Trust, as I’ve mentioned before, has documented many crafts and classified them in a way that makes them easy to find on their website, however a lot of those descriptions seem as if they are meant for people who already know the basics (or are some basics like the origin of Varanasi Jamdani omitted due to lack of information)?

This post was first motivated by a piece I found on the Craft Revival Trust website, and then more recently while writing information on textile crafts for the Brass Tacks website I became more appreciative of this clear and concise piece on the loom. Written by a textile designer, this definition-essay is a simple but thorough explanation of the way a handloom works. For many readers the details on the intricacies of the loom might be a little too much, but if you are interested in studying the basics of fabric construction, then this is it: easy to read, easy to comprehend, and easily accessible - Ayeshe Sadr’s Demystifying the Loom.

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.

An Ode to Thick Sarees

When I was small, I remember cuddling up to my mother’s cotton sarees for comfort (they smelled of her) whenever she traveled out of town on work. Perhaps that’s when I acquired my taste for the weight, fall, and texture of cotton. My mother’s cotton sarees were thick, and I could spend hours staring at the coarse khadi yarn, the supplementary weft patterns, and the designs on the pallu. The Kanjeevaram sarees were simple- wide borders and the familiar stripes in shades of parrot green, kungumam red and turmeric yellow. Then there were Bengal cottons with Jamdani work, beautiful red/terracotta sarees from Koraput, and, some of my favourites, the Orissa Ikat sarees with animals, snails, and flowers in Ikat all over the sari.

My taste is very simple and traditional when I shop for sarees. I go blind when I walk into a store with more georgette and crepe than any other fabric, and seeing thin, transparent sarees studded with jewels brings back bad memories of how students at my school used to decorate the covers of their history projects! I long for the thick cotton sarees that make me feel excited just being in them, the sophistication of an old craft in vibrant colours, and the subtle beauty of the traditional designs. However, the market is flooded with the thin, sheer kind, in fabrics that cling to your body, weighed down by heavy embroidery and stones. It is ironic, now come to think of it, that students decorated their history project covers that way. Were we giving a shout out to the visually stimulating Moghul era? Were we, at some subconscious level, more proud of that kind of aesthetic sense and stimulus than any other, or have we been conditioned from a young age to think of “rich Indian culture” in terms of what royalty did?

The other day a group of young adults (just out of college) came to my store. They were there to pick a top for one of the girls. I was trying to assess her taste as I went through each rack picking out suggestions. When I suggested Fort Greene, a very feminine (okay, maybe girly) pleated top from handwoven cotton and silk, her guy friend said “Oh no, that looks too much like Khadi”. I wasn’t surprised. I know that for many people khadi = old = frumpy = unglamourous. The top was actually made from Chinese silk and mercerized cotton, but there were lines of random tie-dye ikat throughout the fabric that gave it the “khadi look”. I fought hard to not feel defensive (“it is clearly not khadi- can’t you see the polished yarn?”), but I felt sad because his taste is reflective of how many must feel about thick sarees.

I have wanted to write about my love for thick sarees for a while, and when I learned about the Dastkar Andhra exhibition in town, I thought this would be a good time. If you live in Chennai, please go! They have a great range of khadi as well as mill yarn cotton sarees, including some that are dyed from natural ingredients. On display are photographs documenting the entire process of khadi, right from the cotton plucking to the woven sari, and the photographs are printing on handwoven cotton.

Exhibition and Sale of by Dastkar Andhra Marketing Association at
Lalit Kala Academy (#4, Greams Road, Chennai 600006)
From 6th to 10th August, 10:30am to 8pm.

Also, in an attempt to keep up with the times and get in better touch with my customers I've started a group on Facebook. So if you're interested in hearing about Brass Tacks events and getting in touch with me, click here to join the group.

Discovering our clothes

I started this blog because one of my goals for Brass Tacks was to provide more information about textile crafts and the artisans who produce them. Every time I sit down to write a post however, I have so much to share about my work and some of the problems I face with production and sales that the information about the textile crafts and craftsmen are not as accessible as I’d like it to be.

I recently stumbled upon a site that explained beautifully and concisely the process of mud block printing in Mali (West Africa). This site was particularly memorable for its interactive learning tool that allows you to make your own mud cloth. Following (and doing) each step helps you learn the different processes involved and also cultivate an appreciation for the painstaking methods.

For me the learning tool was special because it shows you how connected the bogolanfini technique is to nature (the name in Bambara means "earthcloth") and how quality was not compromised even though it meant additional work. I sometimes wonder if people would have a greater appreciation for traditional textile crafts if they knew how much work and how much precision it involves. Perhaps it is just a question of taste (i.e. do people like how the end product looks or not), but I do know that when I am intrigued by a story surrounding a craft, then I want to know more about it and that knowledge then inspires in me a fascination for the craft technique as well as the end product.

I was thinking that maybe I should have an encyclopedia of some sort with text, pictures and interactive steps to demonstrate the history and technique of some of the textile crafts I use regularly. I know that the Craft Revival Trust already has a directory of crafts with a write-up, pictures and a list of craftsmen, but the text can sometimes be quite long and detailed for someone who wants to quickly get an overview of the process. Not to overlook the work that Craft Revival Trust has done though- their website is a terrific resource for anyone who wants to learn more about Indian textile crafts. I just think having that information on my site will help people connect the crafts to the garments, and in doing that it will hopefully generate more interest and pride in the crafts, the process, and the craftsmen.

Here is a link to the site that has inspired me to have interactive learning tools on my site:
Make your own Bogolanfini! http://www.mnh.si.edu/africanvoices/mudcloth/index_flash.html