Textured Tales : My visit to a Wonderland of clothes

What happens when you do not belong to the world of Fashion and are invited to a fashion soiree? You are looking forward to see the high frat strutting their stuff and loads of air kissing. Well, this one was something with a difference. The designer called every individual on her guest list, personally. No event management company handling the invites from a list of potential customers. This was the place with a difference. Just like the designer’s clothes, this invite to have a cuppa and have a dekho at her new line of summer wear. I never had any thoughts about which dress to wear to the event because from the call I knew, this is like going to a friend’s house and spending time in her drawing room just catching up, as the day passed by with its different hues.

I wanted to be at the store early to be able to go through the clothes and leave soon before the clients start walking in and trying clothes. I did not want to hang around after I had bought something. The idea of tea was so refreshing compared to the wine and champagne evenings. I could smell the fresh Mogra flowers as soon as I entered the building. The old post box was newly painted with the name and the logo of the designer in the thread motif. The ride up the  rickety elevator  opened to a wall covered with Gobar, mitti and wheat husk. It added an interesting texture to it and the oil diyas in the traditional pital samai set the mood. There was Indian classical music wafting in. The Mogra strings were loosely hung at the entrance and the door was partially open. I could not help but remove my footwear outside. There was a divine feel to the whole place. I gingerly opened the door and nothing can describe the visual treat I got. Early morning sun, all windows open, racks of beautifully coloured garments against all walls. The mango tree outside and the sun throwing lovely light on the clothes. The studio looked well nourished. Fans running over the just mopped mosaic floor and comfortable well worn sofas to sit. Glad not to see anything artificial in the space.

The woven fabrics of a variety of colours, textures, weaves and designs, made me experience a deep pride in the skill of our Indian craftsmen. Vaishali physically drives to these villages to the weavers. She lives and works closely with them. Every garment or saree out there shows the passion of her creation. She knows what threads she has used in them and how it is woven. And the beauty is not just in the fabrics but also in the cuts of each garment. To say, each one is unique may sound a bit clich├ęd, but it truly is. The flow of the fabric is like what is worn in different parts of India. And the look is totally modern. I am someone who is not fond of fusion food. I feel it is okay for an experience but it can never be satisfying like a meal. Vaishali’s clothes are rooted in India and very modern. They can be worn with or without an occasion. The beauty is in the cut and the flow of the finely woven fabric.

I am no Fashionista. I was thinking that the model brigade would be like how I have seen in films and books. Once again I was proven wrong. Really genuine people walked in and had a direct relationship with the designer, apart from business. Clients walked in with their children. There were lot of juices and home baked cookies, which children like. Everyone was comfortable as we would be in a close friend’s house.


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