Indian fashion’s textile movement has deep roots, but its current incarnation is nothing short of a revolution. Once celebrated for their heritage value alone, India’s storied weaves and crafts are now blowing past their traditional boundaries, recut with razor-sharp modernity and a global, contemporary gloss. A wave of boundary-breaking designers is treating textile not as a relic but as a high-octane medium—remixed, re-engineered and re-energised for the world. The result? A fashion landscape where craft isn’t the backdrop anymore; it’s the main act, redesigned with audacity, invention and a distinctly Indian cool.
From the outset, the beloved craft-centric house Pero by Aneeth Arora has been quietly staging a revolution. By embedding itself deeply within artisan communities across the country, the label has redefined how the world experiences Indian handlooms. Today, with shelves in 50 stores across 26 countries, Pero’s pieces are immediately identifiable for their blend of heritage and modernity. Arora recalls those early days with candour. “This osmosis of skill sets and ideas is much easier now. Earlier one did not understand the fashion cycle and how a traditional craft could be used in a contemporary way.” For many artisans, fashion felt fickle—trend-chasing, fast-moving, and unreliable. “There was a time when artisans and weavers weren’t sure when a brand approached them, how much work a designer would give? Will they be abandoned after one season?” she says. Their hesitation was rooted in an old belief that fashion reinvented itself every six months, leaving makers unsure of their place in the process.
Reimagining heritage, therefore, began with trust-building. Pero’s collaborations were guided by a clear, unwavering vision: to work closely with India’s craftspeople and bring their skills into new, global conversations. One breakthrough moment came when the brand introduced polka dots across all five artisan clusters it collaborated with. “The craftspeople were hesitant initially. They said, ‘If we do polka dot in ikat, the result won’t be perfect.’ But I told them, ‘It’s the beauty of your technique and it’s okay if it’s not perfect—I want to do it that way.’ That’s when they opened up,” she shares. Years later, the effect is unmistakable. A global client can spot a Pero creation and instantly recognise the craft—be it jamdani, bandhani, or another storied technique.
Even when she drew inspiration from the classic angarkha, she reimagined it with irreverent ease—an elegant overlay styled over jeans and a T-shirt. “That’s why even after working with such traditional crafts and ethnic motifs, we could touch the hearts of people overseas. It’s not like we did not respect the origin of the craft; we looked at it from a different lens,” she explains.
This philosophy—India at the core, global in its gaze—runs through the country’s rising wave of homegrown labels. They aren’t here to romanticise the past; they’re here to honour it by making it relevant. For many of these designers, the studio is an extension of the workshop; the creative process, an ongoing dialogue. It’s an exchange of intent, technique, and imagination—patching scraps with legacy embroideries, weaving waste yarns into runway-ready fabrics, reinventing what craftsmanship can look like today. The result is a new vocabulary of Indian style—polished, quietly radical, and deeply meaningful.
From upcycled scraps to handwoven dreams, India’s new guard of designers is rewriting the language of craft with a glossy, global fluency. For Kriti Tula of Doodlage, the future is pieced together from what the world leaves behind. Known for her zero-waste, upcycled aesthetic, Tula has long championed the idea that sustainability can be striking. “We’ve learned that if you create products that are genuinely useful and beautiful for modern lives, they find an audience anywhere—whether it’s through handloom pieces made from recycled yarn or upcycled fabrics connected to artisan stories,” she says. Tula’s studio is a battleground where every leftover swatch is given a second life. “But even as we focus on making circular fashion more accessible, we try, wherever possible, to incorporate heritage by working with artisans on patchwork, embroidery, weaving waste back into handloom, and exploring natural dyes,” she adds.
Designers today are no longer merely exporting craft—they are exporting a point of view. Brands like Eka have quietly and gracefully carved out an international footprint, offering silhouettes and textiles that feel both rooted and refined. For designer Rina Singh, craft isn’t an aesthetic choice—it’s part of her lived world. “I feel I occupy a proud and distinctive space as an Indian designer presenting Indian fashion to the world. It’s a confident space for me, especially when I explore the possibilities of Indian craft,” says Singh. Inspiration flows from her surroundings, shaped by the textures, colours, and rituals of home. “In many ways, it feels like a homecoming. Over time, we’ve found a method within the seeming madness—aligning our craft-driven sensibilities with international seasons, markets, and buyers,” she adds.
Craft inclusivity isn’t just an industry buzzword anymore—it has crystallised into a full-fledged movement, redefining the contours of Indian fashion. The space feels freer, more democratic, more beautifully chaotic than ever before. Yet, amid this creative abundance, something subtler is unfolding: a sense that the landscape is, at times, blurring into a gentler, diluted version of the original vision. “The challenge lies in competing with substandard versions of the same processes and products—but that pressure also motivates us to keep elevating the craft,” she says.
The fashion scene today speaks with a confident, contemporary cadence—recognisably Indian, yet ambitiously global. After years of experimenting with silhouettes, surfaces, and sensibilities, Eka stands on sure footing. Still, the brand refuses to rest on a signature aesthetic. “But simply reproducing the same personality or design ideation won’t carry us forward forever. We must keep pushing boundaries, making the narrative more expressive, lighter, cooler, and endlessly reimagining what craft can become,” avers Singh.
Designer Shruti Sancheti—who recently authored Threaded Tales of Vidarbha, a sumptuous ode to her region’s textile heritage—believes the true brilliance lies in balance. For her, the designer is an interpreter, not the hero. “As a designer, my role is to provide thoughtful design inputs and contemporary interventions, while recognising that the craftspeople themselves are the true masters of their art,” she notes. Years of trade shows and international collaborations have sharpened her understanding of what the world wants and how profoundly Indian artisans can meet that desire. “I’ve come to realise that our responsibility as designers lies in connecting the incredible skill of our artisans with the needs and sensibilities of a global audience,” she says.
A history buff long captivated by how societies shape aesthetics, Sancheti draws heavily from cultural nuance and layered storytelling. Working with natural processes—block printing, screen printing, shibori, bandhani, leheriya, and intricate hand embroidery—she brings centuries-old vocabularies into the present with fresh inflections. “This collaboration and synergy bring about a great exchange of design ideas, and this helps our brands especially to evolve and present themselves better to the market,” she says.
Abraham & Thakore have long been one of Indian fashion’s quiet pioneers—shaping how the world sees Indian textiles for over three decades. From the early ’90s, when their sharply tailored, craft-rooted silhouettes appeared at Selfridges and Liberty, their message was clear: Indian craft could be modern, refined, and globally relevant. Season after season, the duo have distilled India’s textile vocabulary into a sleek, contemporary language—pieces that carry heritage quietly and travel effortlessly from New York to Tokyo. “One of our team lived in an Andhra weaving village for six months to refine new dyeing and weaving processes,” says Rakesh Thakore. Abraham & Thakore’s legacy is clear: they championed Indian craft on the global stage long before the world was ready—and helped shape the modern, design-led identity it commands today.
For many designers, crafts and textiles are not static artefacts—they are living organisms, ever responding to people, time, and terrain. Designer Anavila Misra embodies this belief wholeheartedly. “Research becomes an important factor in all craft-based work, and empathy should always hold your hand and guide you through this path. This work is not for an isolated genius but for someone who believes in the beauty of collective learning and co-creation,” she says. Known for her handwoven linen saris, Misra has gently reimagined traditional techniques along her journey. But she resists the idea of revival. “It is more about invention and exploration through different mediums,” she notes. Her brand’s global appeal is a testament to that philosophy. Whether it’s the earthy resist-dye technique of dabu from Rajasthan, the sculptural softness of appliqué from Jharkhand, or the textured language of handlooms from West Bengal, every reinterpretation begins with one question: does it speak to today, while honouring the skill and richness of its lineage? Every new collaboration begins with a simple but profound principle—put the craft at the centre. “I feel that has been our strength,” she says.
When Misra first began shaping her label nearly 15 years ago, it was the sari that claimed her. “The nostalgia and beauty pulled me around it, but the real driver for me was the possibilities it offered for reinterpretation and creative experiment,” she shares. The now-iconic linen sari emerged from this intimate dialogue with the drape, setting the tone for a creative journey enriched with subcultures, craft communities and ever-evolving expressions of the familiar.
For many craft-forward designers, heritage is a living language. For Vinita Passary, Founder of Translate—Ikat India, that language is ikat: vibrant, rhythmic and rooted deeply in the cultural landscape of Telangana. From the outset, her intention was clear—present ikat not as a static cultural artefact, but as a textile with pulse and presence, capable of anchoring contemporary wardrobes across continents. Over the last decade and a half, Passary has widened ikat’s horizons, working with airy cottons, lustrous silks, gossamer tissues and even soft, unexpected wools. “It’s been a journey of constant learning and evolution, and today, we truly see our ikats as modern heirlooms,” she says.
Her design philosophy has always rested on the belief that thoughtful craft speaks universally. “Over time, we’ve seen people across cultures respond deeply to the tactile honesty and human touch that handwoven ikat carries,” she adds. By engineering ikat across multiple weights and compositions, she ensures there is an interpretation for every climate, lifestyle, and personal aesthetic. One of ikat’s most extraordinary qualities is its intrinsic union of design and technique—motif and colour are conceived during the dyeing and weaving process itself, a rare choreography of precision and artistry that feels strikingly contemporary even today. Ikat’s geometry and rhythmic repetition lend themselves to limitless reimagining—its visual language is instantly iconic yet endlessly expansive. That timeless sensibility permeates Passary’s silhouettes too: pieces that feel current but enduring, distinct yet seasonless.
When she first collaborated with artisans, the shift away from traditional patterns felt daunting. But with every collection came a deepening trust, and a shared sense of discovery. “What’s been most heartening is to see their growing confidence and enthusiasm. Many of them are pleasantly surprised at how their skills can interpret modern designs while retaining the essence of the craft,” Passary says.
Likewise Ashdeen Z Lilaowala—award-winning textile designer, author, and curator—has spent years propelling the storied Parsi gara into new realms, inviting younger audiences into its intricate world. What began as preservation has evolved into a daring, deeply informed reinvention. “To us, it’s most important that we stay true to the soul of the Parsi gara, whether we’re realising it as a print series or in collaboration with textile traditions such as bandhani from Gujarat, kanjivaram from Tamil Nadu or Banarasi from Uttar Pradesh,” Lilaowala reflects.
India’s legacy of embroidery artistry, shaped by centuries of technique and imagination, offers fertile ground for this evolution. “Once they start working with Parsi gara embroidery, we’ve seen them adapt their skills to this embroidery tradition beautifully,” he adds. Today, the brand’s backbone is a community of 300-plus karigars across West Bengal, Uttar Pradesh, and Delhi—a constellation of master hands who shape, refine, and reinterpret every motif. What began as instruction has ripened into creative dialogue. Some artisans have launched studios of their own, and entire families—across generations—now carry the craft forward.
For many of India’s contemporary textile visionaries, revival didn’t begin with reinvention but with listening—to the loom, to the weaver, to the cadence of a craft honed over centuries. Aditi Chand, co-founder of Tilfi, articulates this ethos with clarity: “Over the years, we have learnt that heritage does not need dramatic reinvention. It needs sensitivity, patience, and a willingness to adapt small details that make it feel relevant today.”
At Tilfi, intimate collaborations with weavers reveal how a shift in proportion, a nuance in motif, or a rethinking of material can unlock entirely new design directions while keeping Banarasi weaving grounded in its essence. “We do not try to simplify our textiles for international customers. Instead, we focus on explaining the depth, the labour, and the intention behind each piece. People everywhere appreciate something that is made with care and skill,” she says. In Varanasi, another renaissance gathers momentum. At the House of Vaarsa, founder and Creative Director Pooja Chidre is breathing contemporary life into heritage weaves like Banarasi satin and tissue, crafting pure zari saris designed as heirlooms—indulgent, enduring, and profoundly modern. “Working closely with artisans and weaving clusters allows for an exchange that goes beyond design—it’s a dialogue of trust, shared purpose, and respect,” she shares.
Across these ateliers, India’s master weavers bring generations of technique, intuition, and artistic wisdom to the loom. A confident new wave of designers infuse the textiles with fresh ideas surrounding form, functionality, and contemporary desire. What emerges is a distinct design vocabulary. India is a land of contrasts, ancient yet ever-evolving and that balance constantly inspires its textile and crafts revivalists. The world may be shifting toward slow, sustainable living, but Indians have always lived that way. Our saris, dupattas, and veshtis have always been timeless, versatile, and meant to last.