It’s a huge hall. But there’s no space for even an ant. The glass-paned cupboards on the walls are stuffed with neatly folded tant saris. Every time someone points to a piece, it is taken out for scrutiny—six yards of stiffly starched Bengal cotton, with fabulous borders in traditional motifs and gleaming zari. The throng inside increases, the hollering rises and the queue at the billing counter snakes up.
That was the scene at RMCA Basak, one of the most popular boutiques in Kolkata, during pre-Durga puja days, about 15 years ago. Comprising the best of handloom saris from award-winning weavers in Bengal and Bangladesh, the variety at the showroom was incomparable, the designs eye-catching and the colours fascinating.
A typical tant sari, made of fine 100-count cotton yardage, is characterised by a thick border and a decorative pallu, woven using a variety of floral, paisley and other artistic motifs. The saris that came in a variety of colours had thick borders because women wore them on a daily basis and hence, they needed to be sturdy. The cotton weaves of Shantipur, Dhaniakhali and Phulia were the best known for their tant, while tangail was a Dhaka speciality. Be it for wedding mornings, Durga puja outings or just about any special occasion, the tant or tangail was a must for women in Bengal.
Then, times and tastes changed. The crisp tant suffered in sales and popularity for want of innovation. Younger women shied away from it for the challenges of carrying a stiff sari to work and maintaining its look proved too much. The modern woman wanted a more fluid sari to drape. In short, the traditional tant needed a modern makeover.
The answer lay in the hunt for beauty in minimalism—a subdued look and softer feel to resonate with changing times and altered tastes. Which is exactly what modern day tant is all about now. The motifs might be old, but the execution is new, and most importantly, the demand for tant is back on track.
This has come about, thanks to the intervention of some design mavericks. The craze for the old style waned, but a new vocabulary of tant has floored the discerning buyer with its contemporary handwriting. Says Bappaditya Biswas of Bailou, the label that has been reinventing Bengal handloom since 2001 with innovative design and implementation, “For any craft to survive it has to have a healthy market share. Weavers were at a loss when they saw the demand for the old format dwindling. We decided to change the moodboard.
The traditions were presented through a chic and contemporary perspective. A handwoven sari that would fit into a modern boardroom. The premise of sustainable fashion is to keep the skill set alive. This is the second coming of tant because the old stiff version had run its course.”
Art critic and sari aficionado, Ina Puri agrees, “Everything demands change. We wore Dhaniakhali and Phulia tant saris in college in Kolkata and as newlyweds. Those designs have been given a makeover by
some brilliant designers and labels. Women are enjoying the contemporary facet of traditional tangail. Something that can be paired with crop tops and silver jewellery. That is an exciting proposition.”
The demise of the traditional tant, believes designer Paromita Banerjee, is also due to the fact that most women have a definitive style sense now. “Numerous shops in Kolkata sell tangail saris with polyester zaris on the border. That isn’t covetable. A well-travelled intellectual would rather opt for a simple yet stunning tant that is organic and comfortable and pay the price for it than settle for a cheap yet shiny old-style sari that stings. It’s the age of less is more and clients find minimalism beautiful. But that doesn’t mean we aren’t using zari in our work. But the sari is woven into the textile giving it that soft sheen. That is the new look of tant and tangail. A smarter and more elegant approach,” explains Banerjee.
Experts also say that every craft, in order to withstand the onslaught of time, needs to reinvent itself. Designer Soumitra Mondal attributes the wane of traditional tant to the distortion in authenticity. “The saris our ancestors wore were sophisticated in design, fabric and colours. Not anymore. Hence, connoisseurs have accepted the remodelled and fresh version of the tant sari that is old wine in a new bottle. In our work, we have strongly held on to the authentic designs but given them a contemporary spin,” the designer says.
“You can’t toy with tradition. Give it a new language so that the youngsters accept it with open arms. Bengal handloom is too strong a segment. So is tant. The current avatar is its rebirth,” Biswas says.