South Asian fashion is gaining increasing visibility on the global stage. From the runways of fashion capitals such as Paris and Milan to celebrity sightings on red carpets, the distinct craftsmanship and vibrant color palettes used in South Asian clothing are increasingly finding expression in collections by design houses in the West.
At times, this has raised concerns around cultural appropriation, representation, and a failure to credit the artisans whose heritage inspires these collections. The South Asian diaspora finds itself in a position that oscillates between the place of their origin and the land they live in. These communities often navigate identities, belonging, and cultural preservation while being far away from home. For some members of the diaspora, living closer to where many Western fashion houses operate has provided an opportunity to raise questions of accountability and advocate for the proper attribution of cultural influences. Now, amidst this, there’s one creative phenomenon that has become more commonplace than ever: the art of upcycling the sari.
Repurposing old saris is by no means a novel concept in the country — where several generations of women have transformed the six-yard drape into blankets and quilts — but it’s slightly different when it comes to the diaspora. The practice has turned into a means of expressing one’s identity, championing the cause of sustainable fashion, while bridging the gap between one’s heritage and contemporary Western aesthetics. The sari sometimes stops being a mere article of clothing. It is a material object that carries memories, linked to the women in one’s family. For second- and third-generation members of the diaspora, inheriting a sari can be an emotional experience. However, there is the question of feasibility — in colder climates, fast-paced environments, and workplaces in Western cities, wearing a sari on a regular basis might simply be an impractical affair.
But there is a method to work around it: rather than letting these precious textiles gather dust at the bottom of a closet, or treating them with museum-like reverence (worn only during weddings), many are opting for the middle ground: transforming the saris into other articles of clothing, most notably jackets.
In India, the practice of upcycling fabrics and garments has, in some cases, been taken up by contemporary slow-fashion labels, reflecting an emphasis on reusing materials and reducing waste. Local tailors are also given saris to transform them into anarkalis, lehengas, and other forms of festive wear for younger family members.
However, independent diaspora designers have also explored more playful and inventive ways of turning saris into blazers, slip dresses, corsets, hats, and streetwear jackets, even mini skirts with embellishments. As a result, we have brands such as Desi Espresso, which works on creating custom-made ‘minis’ from a range of saris that are offered to the customer. Their founders, Prerna and Simran, position Desi Espresso as a brand that is equally at home in Toronto and New Delhi. Similarly, another brand, ‘I Was a Sari’, positions itself as a brand that oscillates between Mumbai and Milan.
The practice of upcycling saris also fits well with global sustainability initiatives decrying the sale and consumption of fast fashion. Mainstream fashion is an extremely polluting industry, using synthetic materials that aren’t eco-friendly. In contrast, the more traditional Indian textile ecosystem are inherently sustainable, using handloom weaves (as opposed to machines), natural dyes, and durable, biodegradable fibers.
The term ‘decolonization’ has also taken off in spaces that aren’t considered to be traditionally academic, now extending into the world of fashion. Established Western ideas of fashion and style are increasingly being supplemented by traditions and aesthetics from other parts of the world. Indian design and craftsmanship have also received greater visibility in global fashion conversations, including through debates such as the Prada–Kolhapuri controversy.
A new wave of diaspora-owned sustainable brands has come to the forefront, and labels founded by South Asian creatives are shipping upcycled sari pieces worldwide. At the end of the day, the upcycled sari in the diaspora becomes more than a clever styling hack or an aesthetic trend. It is a reflection of the diasporic condition itself: by taking pieces of the past, respecting their origin, shaping, and sewing them into something novel and functional; all the while retaining its uniqueness. At times, the best way to honor a legacy is to wear it as tomorrow comes.
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