Controversial Transparency

I’ve been thinking a lot about my pricing lately. When I think about the amount of effort that goes into finalizing a style, the time spent in tailoring, and the expense in experimenting with different colours and fabrics, I think my prices are too low. But then, I never wanted my brand to be in that high-end and almost unaffordable league, so I guess it’s up to me to be smart about my fabric and tailoring choices to deliver a unique product that’s still affordable.

The definition of affordable, however, varies from person to person and from income to income. I understand that completely- we all have different reference points after all- but what does upset me is when people cannot imagine why my garments would cost as much as they do (my prices range from Rs 800 to Rs 2,600). This post is my attempt to explain why a well-tailored garment made from handwoven, natural fabric cannot be sold for cheap. Well, at least not be yesteryear's standards of cheap.

Most designers follow a simple equation to help them price a garment. There are more complicated ways of doing this by taking into account hidden costs such as rent, sales staff salaries, etc, and some designers have a wholesale price and a retail price but at its basic level, this is the standard equation.

Cost * Profit Margin = Price

Usually, only direct costs are taken into account. This includes the cost of fabric, notions (buttons, thread, zips), and tailoring charges. Let’s take a look at each of these direct costs.

Fabric: It’s no secret that natural fabrics are more expensive than synthetic fabrics. Add to that the process of small scale yarn dyeing, and weaving- that’s a lot of skilled labour right there! Many people seem to be under the impression that labour in India is still really cheap and that handwoven fabric should not be that expensive. The farmers and weavers who work for cheap can’t survive with today’s standard of living; has no one read the news stories about farmers and weavers in Andhra committing suicide? Just so that everyone is on the same page (and in the same decade), here are some figures to get you up to speed on what quality labour costs these days.

One metre of handwoven cotton can cost anything between Rs 80 to as much as Rs 450 per metre. This is dependent on the quality of yarn, the amount of yarn, and the tie-dying work done on the yarn (ikat is obviously more expensive because of the labour involved before the weaving itself). Additional textile crafts like extra weft (jamdaani) weaving add to the cost.
If the cotton is real khadi (and by real khadi, I mean the yarn should have been spun by hand) and handwoven, then it can cost anything between Rs 150 to Rs 350 per metre. I know, it’s such a steal it’s not even funny.

Handwoven silk can cost anything between Rs 200 to Rs 800 per metre. This is dependent on the weight of silk, the quality and type of silk, and special weaving techniques like jamdani or ikat.

Tailoring cost: A really good tailor can cost anything between Rs 6,000 to Rs 8,000 per month. A good tailor has control over a sewing machine, can give you a good finish with concealed zips, darts, and French seams, and he knows how to change the machine tension according the fabric so that you don’t have a beautiful satin silk garment puckering at every seam.

Oh, and even a good tailor can take up to half a day to tailor one garment if that garment has a lot of darts and pin-tucks or pleats.

A good pattern maker (and it is the pattern maker, not the tailor who decides the fit of the garment) can cost anything between Rs 12,000 to Rs 30,000 per month. I’ll say less about this because clearly there are pattern makers and there are pattern makers. This cost really depends on what kind of garments you want to make and how much time and effort the designer spends explaining her vision, concept and style.

A good cutter (whose job, literally, is to cut out fabric in the shape of paper patterns that the pattern maker generates) can cost anything between Rs 6,000 and Rs 10,000 per month.

Notions: Invisible YKK zips cost anything between Rs 35 to Rs 90 per zip, depending on the length. Shell buttons cost anything between Rs 3 to Rs 20 per button, depending on the type and size.

Now that’s a lot of information to help anyone figure out how much it costs to make a range of garments in cotton and silk. And these are only the costs for the direct input into each garment, mind you. Not factored into the direct costs are the time spent finalizing a pattern from sketch to final product, the time spent grading patterns to different sizes, the production manager’s time spent making sure everything gets done in time and without tailoring errors, sales staff salaries, rent, electricity, phone, and of course the cost of machinery.

Yeah, don’t even get me started on the hidden costs of running a business.

Pushing Creative Boundaries

I recently wrote to a fashion critic asking for feedback and thoughts about my brand and my designs. I was pleasantly surprised to receive a reply within a couple of days, but it took a while for his feedback to sink in. He said that I needed to push myself and do something that is not just different, but completely revolutionary.

Not to get defensive, but when you make clothes that have semi mass-appeal, it's hard to be revolutionary. I came into this business for my love of textiles, so part of my goal is to work towards ordering larger volumes from weavers (so that they will be more receptive to working on quality and experimenting with different fabric constructions). To order larger volumes I have to make more garments, so even though my clothes are not as mass-market as a store in a mall, I do want the clothes to cater to a relatively large niche. My point is that when you try to make clothes that are not highly exclusive, it is difficult to be revolutionary. The fashion critic is trying to tell me, I think, that only if I do something revolutionary will I get noticed and create that buzz that gets many people talking about my store.

After my initial reaction ("Of course I am doing something revolutionary! Who else uses beautiful fabrics to make such well-cut clothes at affordable prices?") I realized that he did have a point. Unless someone were to really engage with the garments, feel the fabric, try them on to appreciate the fit and the feel of soft fabrics against skin, it is difficult to understand how special they are. It is true that many women walk into my store and ask me why the prices are so high for cotton clothing. Should I focus more on the visual aspect of my garments; make sure they are visually distinct in some way that is easily (and immediately) noticeable?

Still, I'm a bit confused. There have been styles that are less conventional like Kolam Kurta and Marsupium (pics below), but while Kolam Kurta flew off the shelves I noticed that Marsupium was bought mostly by women who live abroad. In my latest collection, Pastry Layers is my most unconventional style. It remains to be seen how much attention it attracts.

The challenge ahead of me is to be more unconventional (and perhaps revolutionary!) without forgetting my target customer. The first step in that direction is being creative at the fabric stage, so I need to choose my fabrics for future collections really carefully. Good timing, as I'm in the process of finalizing my Monsoon Collection fabrics this week.

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?