Jaya Jaitly wears saris round the clock all 365 days a year. Mascot of the #100 saris pact, indefatigable crusader for crafts and craftspeople, weavers, Jaitly’s latest book, ‘Woven Textiles of Varanasi’ (Niyogi Books) pays tribute to one of the best known weaving traditions in India – the Banarasi sari.
Amidst all the noise about the sari losing its relevance today, we spoke to Jaya Jaitly about her crusade to save the fabric.
Excerpts from an interview:
When and how did your affinity for the sari begin? Do you remember the first time you wore a sari?
I wore saris from my first day at college at the age of 16, and even at the Miss Miranda event that year. I wore a simple cotton print and won quite unexpectedly. I also wore a sari on graduation day at Smith College in the U.S. as on other days when it was not snowing. The sari is an intrinsic part of who I am as an Indian. It makes me feel totally comfortable and proud of my identity.
The sari is our national fabric. But would you say wearing a sari is more of a statement today? Is that how it is perceived and don’t you find it ironic?
A vast number of women living in non-glamorous India continue to wear saris as part of their natural form of adult dress. The change in that world has been more towards pants of various shapes with kurtas of various lengths! However, I would still venture to say, the Bharat part of India has not given up the sari.
In your opinion, what led to the decline of the sari or the sari draping habits?
What you describe is part of a new urban thinking because many international fashion options have come on to the scene -- from fashion shows to brand styles and easier international travel where we get influenced by others. Of course, this life touches a very small section of society. One positive reason could be that women are out working in urban settings much more, where they find other forms of dress more convenient to wear and maintain. However, in our college days, it was easier to hitch up a sari to jump on to a bus than while wearing a hip hugging kurta or skirt. This is where confidence in being Indian and loving our mode of dress matters.
You set up a sari shop in Khan Market, New Delhi. Please Tell us about that. What kind of saris do you sell and do you choose them personally?
The sari shop was a leap of faith rather than a well thought-out business plan. Many people comment admiringly about the saris I wear, which are simple handlooms. Glitzy saris have overcrowded everyone’s vision in marketplaces, so they don’t notice the simple understated beautiful traditional textiles anymore. I didn’t want people to think I had some personal exclusive stash of saris. I wanted to share what I liked with others. Hence, the sari shop was created to make such saris available, reasonably priced, and pre-selected so that they are spoiled for choice. Profits go to the producers to help acquire yarn or cloth. I have a creative partnership with friends with whom I have a common affinity for a particular aesthetic, who have wonderful sari establishments in Chennai. Between us, we fill the shop with Chanderis, raw silk, Kanchi cottons and silks, ajrakh and Bagru print, ikats from Odisha and Andhra Pradesh, tie dyes, prints and weaves from Rajasthan and Gujarat, all kinds of weaves from Bengal, Pune and Varanasi.
Many sari boutiques have sprung up all over the country. Have these boutiques made the sari more expensive and elitist?
Of course, sari boutiques have pretty expensive saris, because of designer names attached, which costs more than the sari itself! On the other hand, anyone promoting saris is a plus point. As long as the crafts person is paid fairly, add-on costs are presumably according to overheads and the conscience of the boutique owner.
Why should a good mulmul or even a Kanchi cotton be so expensive?
The main reason is the high cost of yarn and the time taken to weave by hand anything with an intricate design. Cotton is exported in large quantities, and mill spun yarn goes largely to mills and power loom establishments. It is difficult for weavers to obtain yarn in quantities they can afford. Fine yarn used for mulmul or Kanchi cotton takes more effort to spin as well. The real tragedy lies in people finding these expensive yet willing to pay ten times as much for foreign branded dresses and handbags without a question…
You have an enviable collection of saris. What attracts you to a sari? Where do you buy your saris?
I simply can't resist a lovely and reasonably priced sari... it's the only luxury I indulge in. I have worn saris all my life so I have a good pile. They seldom spoil, so the collection builds up even while I give many away. Some are kept as precious old samples, waiting to find someone who will produce them again. As I said, I feel most confident when wearing a sari because it is a graceful, comfortable and beautiful form of dress. Traditional aesthetics of colour, motif and design are amazing and timeless. Even well-designed contemporary experiments are attractive and show they are a living tradition.
I buy my saris from crafts persons with whom we work when they come to our office, or at bazaars and exhibitions anywhere in the country. I haven’t entered a sari shop for a decade until I found our own shop has a great range too! I also believe that if you love and wear the output of the people who make them and with whom you work, there is meaning to the relationship.
Is it possible to address the apathy for the sari or seek assistance for weavers through Government intervention?
The Government has intervened many times either to save the weavers or sometimes even harm them. The Janata Sari Scheme of 1977 was to help handloom weavers survive. But right now there is great fear that the Handloom Protection and Reservation Act of 1985 may be altered to allow power looms into sari production. There is a handloom weaver from Chanderi sitting with me right now who says their 3,500-strong community will be crushed if this happens. He says the Varanasi power looms are already giving them a hard time in competition. Sometimes in trying to please too many competing sections of society, the government harms the weakest. A women’s movement to sustain weavers by wearing their saris would make more economic sense.
Several designers have put the sari on the ramp. Will these interventions help revive or popularise the sari among Gen Next?
I am glad fashion designers are finally doing this but it shouldn’t be just a token sari or two. Wendell Rodricks has revived the elegant Kunbi sari but he is having a hard time finding weavers. Designers should live and work among the weavers with passion and dedication rather than just for a seasonal event on the ramp. The Gen Next’s clothes will depend on how much they admire their sari-wearing mothers and can develop the ability to wear jeans and saris with equal ease! One question for them: surely it can’t be easy to wear slim fit pants, carry a huge handbag and totter in 5 inch heels in the name of modern fashion?
You have been working on a sari map. Tell us something about that.
Our craft maps of each State already have a textile side that identifies as many kinds of saris as we could find. I would like to suggest designers take a look at which State they want, and discover places of production. If I begin another map now, it must point to new processes, techniques and designs. That is still in the making.
Who are your most favourite sari clad women?
Leela Samson, Kirron Kher, Usha Uthup, Aparna Sen, Madhvi Mudgal, Geeta Chandran, friends who work with the Crafts Council of India, and, if I’m allowed to be partial, my daughter Aditi.
The Banarasi story
Jaya Jaitly in her book ‘Woven Textiles of Varanasi’ emphasises the need to acknowledge the beauty of Varanasi textiles emerging out of age-old traditions and techniques. She highlights the danger of the loss of livelihood and highly sophisticated skills. The erosion of identity and importance in the wake of machine-made imitations being produced in other parts of the world has already begun. The book also presents a significantly-curated cross-section of the textile treasures offered by Varanasi. She combines the past and the present, linking them to different moments in the city's history, and makes a powerful case for rediscovering, preserving and patronising these textile treasures that are inextricably bound to the ancient aura of the city. Price: Rs. 621.
