On the face of it, it might not seem like Lata Sharma and Shobha Valmiki have much in common. Working in different craft collectives, Sharma lives in the Kullu Valley of Himachal Pradesh, where winter blankets the region in snow and summer carpets it in kaleidoscopic wildflowers. Valmiki resides 850 kilometres away in Bhikamkor, a Rajasthani village on the fringes of the Thar desert.
Sharma is approaching fifty while Valmiki is in her mid-thirties. While you’re likely to find Sharma layered in snug hand-knit shawls and sweaters, Valmiki prefers breathable cotton saris with a pallu lightly covering her head. Yet these two women, who have never met each other, are united by an invisible sisterhood.
For nearly a decade, they have worked with all-women collectives that ensure sustainability not only in materials and techniques but also in empowering craftswomen, enabling them to leverage generational skills to earn a living in a space that was a male bastion for centuries. Valmiki is the embroidery manager at Saheli Women, an artisans’ collective headquartered in her village two hours from Jodhpur. By providing secure income for its local women and reviving traditional embroideries , Saheli has grown to become a beacon of intentional co-creation.
“When we started in 2015, women couldn’t put their children through school,” says its founder Madhu Vaishnav, whose husband’s family hails from the village. She’s calling from London, where she’s about to launch their line, Dhora Collection, at a slow fashion pop-up. She’ll follow that up with an embroidery workshop at the members-only club Soho House.
Dhora Collection features voluminous dresses inspired by the region’s free-flowing silhouettes and the changing hues of the Thar, along with easy separates that define modern dressing—all named after Saheli artisans. “Now we have a women’s health clinic, multiple shops, children who can speak English because of our relationship with western markets and entrepreneurial women respected by all.” A decade ago, Valmiki faced rampant discrimination for being the first Dalit woman at Saheli.
“But today, we all work and eat together. I’ve even been able to buy my own house,” she tells me. Saheli’s success story finds echoes in Kullvi Whims, a foundation set up by Nisha Subramaniam and Brighu Acharya in Naggar, a village in Kullu.
Subramaniam arrived in 2012 as a tourist. She discovered the local women’s knitting skills but realised that traditional wool was being replaced by environmentally damaging acrylic yarn. “The women showed me their beautiful wool blankets stored in cedar trunks,” she recalls.
“But the connection between nomadic pastoralists and mountain communities had broken down.” Working with the Gaddi community, who traverse the Himalayas , they sourced indigenous wool and trained village women to convert it into ready-to-wear pieces that Acharya would document on Instagram. This caught the attention of global-conscious labels like Amsterdam-based Zazi Vintage and Germany-based Rani & Reine, who have become regular stockists.
A patchwork pullover, for instance, derives inspiration from the mosaic of colours found in terraced fields, apple blossoms and snowcapped peaks.They source pomegranate rinds, walnut shells and marigold flowers from nearby orchards and jungles to create natural dyes. These end up decorating items like sweaters and extra-thick socks that are handspun on wooden takhlis (spindles), that beg to be worn beside a fireplace with a cup of hot cocoa in hand.
Like Saheli Women, Kullvi Whims understands the power of beautiful photos and compelling backstories to sell to urban markets. It offers magical stories steeped in time and tradition, along with tales of hope for the future.“When apple crops failed or when tourism took a hit during the pandemic, this income supported families,” says Subramaniam.
Sharma is one of the 300 women across 30 villages who work with Kullvi Whims. “We once feared the next generation would abandon these crafts for readymade clothes,” she says. “But now there’s hope they will carry it forward.
” This isn’t just wishful thinking on her part. Students from design schools such as the Srishti Manipal Institute of Art, Design and Technology travel here to understand this regenerative economy. It sparks respect for ancient Indian crafts among kids who grew up worshipping Alexander McQueen and John Galliano .
When it comes to preserving our material heritage, patronage can provide crucial financial support and public awareness. In the bustling city of Maheshwar on the banks of the Narmada in Madhya Pradesh , Rehwa Society, established in 1979, is reviving the handweaving industry under the patronage of the Holkar family. The handloom legacy of Maheshwar flourished in the 18th century under the Maratha queen Ahilyabai Holkar.
The warp and weft combined the traditions of the Mahrus and Salvis from Surat and the Momins from Varanasi , creating the iconic Maheshwari sari: a regional handloom signature that Rehwa continues to champion and develop to suit evolving tastes. It’s not just Indian handicrafts that are seeing a new lease of life. In idyllic Almora, in Uttarakhand , women are excelling at the Japanese resist-dyeing technique of Shibori.
Its popularity has been fuelled by the world of high fashion, from Issey Miyaki ’s revolutionary pleated clothing to Dior’s autumn/winter 2023 collection showcased at Mumbai’s Gateway of India . In India, Shibori has been pioneered by Mura Collective. The organisation was awarded the UNESCO Seal of Excellence four times.
“The Jat women in Uttarakhand had never stepped out of home, but when they started working with us, they would take off their ghoongat, have a great time and taste freedom at last,” says Mura’s founder Kusum Tiwari, who believes there is something divine at work helping her tirelessly complete weekly 14-hour drives between her home in New Delhi and Mura’s workshop in Almora. Mura has supplied to Fabindia, Okhai, Taneira, and Westside. “In Kumaon, alcoholism is rampant and the men often don’t work.
But now that women are bringing home money, the husbands are pitching in with housework,” Tiwari explains. Balancing culture and commerce in such initiatives requires a delicate approach. For Vaishnav, it means changing the very way we are conditioned to work.
“Generally, our work structures are designed by and for men,” she says. “However, women’s physical health, family well-being and priorities differ. Our ladies have to run home if a cow has delivered or if a child is sick, so we empowered women to shape their own work culture.
If you go to factories where men work, you will find paan stains and tons of plastic all around. But with women, everything is clean, peaceful and respectful. Now imagine if this were the norm everywhere.
” Also read: A new generation of designers is redefining what ‘handmade’ will look like in the future Your guide to the most intricate North Indian shawls by craft collectives In Ladakh, everywhere I looked was a postcard come to life.
