Where do we place value in a product? Is it in the fabric? Is it in the skill? Is it in the fingertips of the weaver, or in the scissors of the cutter in the garment factory?
Part of this is witnessing the weavers at the loom, under the blue tarpaulin canopy in Chomu, Rajasthan. Masters of a craft learnt slowly over time, they hone their specialism until their fingers become intertwined with the threads. They can weave and reweave without thinking, simply by looking at the fibres, the warp and the weft, in front of them on the handloom.
A decade ago, Iro Iro started with a conversation about building on a history that has been rewritten and written again, and telling it through a new lens. Not a fetishisation of India, or of Indianness, or of cultural exploitation, but a platform for the subtle details and nuances, to be seen on their own terms. The kurta is an archetype, not a stereotype: a shape to live inside rather than an image to be looked at.
Value lies in the skill and the cultural legacy it carries. Cloth of this quality, woven by hand in rural Rajasthan, is as valuable as anything made by a petite main in a Paris couture house.