TRAVEL TO AN INDIAN ETHICAL FASHION ATELIER: SMH TRAVELLER
This female-led artisan fashion workshop in northern india is empowering women, WHILE giving travellers thE UNIQUE opportunity to learn more about ethical fashion.
It’s 11am in Kaliberi village, and the artisans of Saheli Women are hard at work. As I walk out of the beating mid-morning sun into their workshop - a large, cool space with candy pink walls and high lavender ceilings - the dozen or so women are busy hand-stitching and embroidering garments.
“These women are all Pakistani migrants, and many of them were doing hard labour in mines and cotton fields before this,” says Madhu Vaishnav, the bright-eyed founder of Saheli Women and my host for the week, as she admires the stitching on a blue ikat patterned napkin. “See how beautiful this is? My ladies are all doing such good work.”
I discovered Saheli Women, an atelier that has been producing ethically made, sustainable garments for international fashion brands since 2015, through a designer friend some years back, who Vaishnav inspired to start her sustainable fashion business. When I found myself in Jodhpur with some days to spare, I thought to look Vaishnav up, and was delighted to find Saheli had a travel offering. Five days immersed with some of the 80-odd artisans Saheli employs, learning traditional Indian handcraft techniques. I booked immediately.
Vaishnav gives me an introduction to natural dyeing, pulling big jars of marigold and sappan wood and onion skin powders off shelves. Rather than pollute waterways with the harsh chemicals fashion companies usually use, Saheli often use these natural pigments to colour their fabrics.
While we continue walking around the centre, Vaishnav tells me about the hurdles she had to jump over to start Saheli. They included teaching herself English, convincing her family to let her work as a married woman, fighting to be allowed to travel alone to the University of California, Berkeley, to do a diploma in social welfare as a mother of two, then finally starting Saheli with $100 and five women in a centre that at the time had no running water or electricity.
It was tough, but infinitely worthwhile, she says, as we sit on a colourful woven rug on the concrete floor and share chai and sweet laddus with the artisans on their tea break.
“When someone asks me how I describe sustainable fashion, I say this,” says Vaishnav, gesturing to the women talking and laughing around her. “Fun, free, happy. Every day here is a celebration.” Vaishnav is passionate about giving the artisans she employs the respect they deserve, and a voice that is heard, so they are seen as humans not machines.
Most of the women, she says, never went to school, were married when they were in their early teenage years, and have between three and six children to support. For many, working here was a battle they had to fight with their husbands, who didn’t understand why they wanted to change their work or to work outside the home. “But money talks,” says Vaishnav, “the men see the money coming into the households and they can’t argue with that.”
Aside from developing the women's skillsets and paying them a good living wage, Saheli is also inadvertently teaching these women about sustainability. “This lady here,” says Vaishnav, translating from a beautiful woman in a canary yellow sari, “she says we buy clothes, and if they get dirty or torn, we just throw them into landfill. She says in so many ways we are a burden to the earth, and it handles that with a lot of happiness, so we need to bow our hands to the earth for doing that.”
In a world where we’re acutely aware of fashion’s carbon footprint, environmental offences and atrocious human rights violations, it feels important to be here. To see these women spending an entire day stitching a single garment, and to understand what this work means for them, their families and their entire village. I know I’ll never wear a piece of clothing without feeling the presence of the human who created it again, and it’s only day one.
Later, Vaishnav drives me back to her home in a walled estate outside Jodhpur’s indigo-washed old town, and in the morning teaches me to grind spices for chai, and to make pan-fried paratha flatbreads stuffed with tomatoes, onion, chilli and spices. I’ve travelled to Jodhpur twice before but have never explored outside the main tourist area, and being immersed in a local’s life like this feels like peering behind a curtain.
Today we drive two hours north to the small village of Bhikamkor on the edge of the Thar Desert, to Saheli’s other workshop. It sits on a dirt road where a few long-horned cows and scrappy chickens forage for food, surrounded by simple village houses and some majestic temple ruins.
This centre was once Vaishnav’s husband’s grandmother’s home, and ever since she first visited she has dreamt of bringing cotton handlooms back to the village. “Handloom is such an important art for Indian people, but it’s rare now because of fast fashion,” says Vaishnav as we walk through the indigo gates.
Last week, Saheli were finally able to purchase a loom, and today the artisans are learning to use it. Their excitement is palpable as they gather around the loom and learn from a master weaver how to toss the wooden shuttle back and forth between hundreds of colourful cotton threads.
At sundown, the real magic begins. Vaishnav takes me for dinner at one of the artisan’s homes, where we sit on the floor eating some of the best food I’ve had in India with our hands. Afterwards, we carry two traditional Indian charpoy woven beds up to the rooftop of the centre, where we’re joined by six of the artisans and four of their daughters. We all cram together onto the beds, looking at the stars, the women gossiping in Marwari, the girls laughing and asking me questions until I fall asleep in my clothes.
We wake at dawn and watch the sun rise over the desert, then the little girls return to braid my hair and bring us chai. Today is the first day of Navratri, an annual 10-day Hindu festival devoted to the goddess Durga, and honouring the divine feminine. It seems perfectly fitting to be spending the day with these women, cleaning the centre together, working the handloom, and sorting vintage fabrics while I try not to cry from the loveliness of it all.
When the sun dips low in the sky, Vaishnav ushers me into a small temple at the back of the centre. It’s painted baby pink, like the inside of a seashell, and a 90-year-old Rajasthani woman is singing and banging a big Indian tabla drum. I sit in front of a small fire below an image of Durga, and let the hypnotic music reverberate through my bones. There is nothing left to do but bow my head in thanks.
Nina Karnikowski travelled courtesy of Qantas and Saheli Women.
THE DETAILS
FLY
Qantas flies non-stop from Sydney to Bengaluru four times a week, then connects to Jodhpur (a two-hour and 40-minute flight) through codeshare partner IndiGo. See qantas.com
STAY
Saheli Women’s five day artisan travel experience is $US750 per person. This includes accommodation in a local home, home-cooked meals, a night in the desert, airport transfers, and a donation to Saheli Women’s eduction and skills development program. See saheliwomen.com
This story first appeared in print and online here.