Says Sharmi

From left: Sarita Baluja, Jani Dhingra, Aruna Dalmia, Saroj Bhatia and Indu Gupta helming Purnam An afternoon filled with thoughtful fashion. A happy buzz, a constant reminder about accepting sustainability as a fashion anthem. Honouring and appreciating indigenous art and aesthetics. That’s what it was at the 12 th edition of Purnam’s Summer Festive 2018 exhibition held last week at The Ashok in the capital. As promised, the platform brought together a gamut of designers, craftspeople and artists offering the best of responsible fashion, food, art and craft to Delhi’s cognoscenti. T here were exhibitors from Dubai, Delhi, Mumbai and Kolkata, as well as beautiful products created by indigenous artisans from Hissar and Varanasi. There are spectacular ikat creations by craft revivalist and textile doyen, Madhu Jain, artistic separates by fashion designers Sonam Dubal, Charu Parashar, Samant Chauhan, Rina Dhaka and Yasmin Kidwai. But the stunning weaves from small weavers in Banar

Creation by Vishal Kapur who will be exhibiting at Purnam Is there an alternative Delhi that loves subtle, slow and sustainable fashion? Actually, there is. There is a batch of sartorial cognoscenti and connoisseurs who passionately flaunt handwoven, handspun and handcrafted apparels. Be it separates or saris, this burgeoning tribe has taken to the organic fashion movement very seriously. Then, why is it that when I walk into any fashion and lifestyle exposition in the city, all that I witness are ornate, heavily embellished clothes far removed from slow or sustainable. In the garb of couture and wedding wear, most often than not there are designer creations that, I’m afraid, use synthetic fabrics and machine-crafted embroidery. And strangely, every single thing looks like the other. But there’s hope yet. For the last 12 years, there is one exposition that has been promoting responsible fashion, lifestyle and crafts. Purnam (this year the exhibition is on July 20th)  has bee

Sometimes I hear my father-in-law talking about his childhood. How he and his friends plucked ripe mangoes in a huge orchard in his ancestral village. How the taste of his grandmother’s duck egg curry has stayed on in his mouth. He wistfully recalls the times he crossed the Padma to reach his uncle’s home… the soft breeze of the evening lulling the boat in a gentle sway… Nostalgia is a magical balm. We know that he will probably never he able to go back to his village of birth but when he tells these heart-warming stories to my five-year-old, I realise how the old man is deriving happiness by sharing these memories. The click at the end of his throat is overcome by the joy in his eye… I wonder what would he say on tasting the Haasher Dimer Kosha at Sonar Tori? Would the tasty preparation match up to his grandmother’s… Would it again take him back to the languorous afternoons in Barishal, Bangladesh. Will he find the Maajhir Ilish Jhol as light and flavourful as he taste