After the ear is pierced, the opening is enlarged with a small roll of palm leaf. Brass or lead weights are suspended from the lobe to stretch it gradually, making room for an ornament too heavy for a fresh piercing. Professor T Dharmaraj, HoD, Folklore and Cultural Studies at Madurai Kamaraj University, says that in the olden days, a girl’s ears were pierced when she was about a year old. An earlier account by writer Shrikumar Arjunan describes Kuravars piercing weeks-old babies and adding weights over time.
The resulting earring called thandatti is a sculptural arrangement of spheres, squares, and triangles, often covered in gold. Its hollow structure may be supported with lac to reduce the weight. The earring depends on an elongated earlobe, shaped over months or years before it can be worn.
The jewellery has since returned to public attention with the approach of Pa Ranjith’s upcoming Tamil film ‘Vettuvam’, scheduled for release in December. At a Chennai event for the film last month, actor Sobhita Dhulipala wore thandatti-inspired earrings, pairing them with a red khadi sari. Her appearance has brought a traditional ornament into contemporary fashion coverage, drawing attention to a practice whose history stretches far beyond its present styling.
In old poems
Dharmaraj traces references to heavy ear ornaments through Tamil literature. He says, “‘Kadipiku kaathir kanankuzhai’ is a line from Choolamani (4th century CE), one of the five minor epics (Ainchirukappiyam). ‘Kanankuzhai’ refers to a kundalam (a heavy, ornate ear ornament). ‘Kanankuzhai maathar’ is a phrase found in Thirukkural (2nd century CE). In Akananuru (4th century BCE), the 158th poem contains the phrase ‘kanankuzhai imaippa’, signifying a heavy kundalam. ‘Kozhi erintha kodungaal kanankuzhai’ is a line from the poem Pattinappaalai (4th century CE). The verse depicts that when women used to guard the grains and chickens pestered them, they would throw thandatti’s to chase them. These would be scattered across the ground and when children used to push their carts, it would get stuck. The poet uses this imagery to convey the wealth of that society.”
Thandatti and pambadam are related traditional forms, but the terms do not always describe the same ornament. The thandatti described in the research notes consists of geometric shapes joined together. Pambadam is often interpreted as a stylised snake, with forms resembling its hood and head. Both can stretch the earlobe, but their designs and local histories differ, state historical documents.
MP Dharmarajan, HoD, Anthropology, University of Madras, cautions against claiming a single origin. “One possibility is that these ornaments were connected to local identity,” he says. Family customs, migration and contact between neighbouring communities may have shaped the designs over time. “When communities live near one another, they can adopt practices from each other, sometimes with modifications to the design,” he shares.
The practice cannot be assigned to one caste or class. Dharmaraj says women across many social strata practised earlobe stretching, with exceptions recorded for Brahmin women and Devadasis, some of whom adopted it in old age. The materials reflected differences in wealth. Affluent households could provide gold ornaments, while records describe poorer people wearing ear ornaments made from lead. “There is no doubt that the thandatti or pambadam serves as a symbol of affluence. There are no caste-based distinctions in their design; they are crafted in a variety of geometric shapes. It is said that the smallest pambadam weighs 20 grams, while the largest weighs 50 grams,” he notes.
A 2023 article by Shrikumar for Inmathi, drawing on colonial-era records, lists the practice among Nagarathars, Vellalars, Kallars, Maravars, Agamudaiyars, Nadars, Pallars, Parayars, and Chettiyars. A report published by Daily Madurai in 2012, found older women still wearing thandatti in Usilampatti, particularly among the Kuravar community. One woman described her earrings as weighing 12 grams each, eight grams of which was gold.
The report describes thandatti as part of a wedding trousseau and records women selling their earrings during financial crises. Dharmarajan offers a related interpretation, while acknowledging that it remains one possible explanation. Some anthropologists, he says, suggest that jewellery could have served as personal wealth for women who moved from their natal homes to their husbands’ households.
The history of stretched earlobes also includes social pressure and changing ideas of respectability. Dharmaraj says education contributed to the decline of the custom over the past two centuries. He cites the early 20th-century campaign by Perumal Peter, who promoted education among Dalit communities in southern Tamil Nadu and opposed the practice of hanging aluminium or lead weights from the ears. The 2012 report noted that some women were having their elongated earlobes surgically stitched because they no longer considered the look fashionable. Others remained proud of their long ears and distinctive jewellery, even as fewer women continued the practice.
Did men also follow this practice? Dharamaraj answers, “In Jain and Buddhist sculptures, one can observe sages with elongated earlobes. Lord Shiva is referred to as ‘Thodudaiya Seviyan’ (He who wears large ear ornaments). However, one should not conclude from this that men in general elongated their earlobes; it is likely a practice followed by ascetics. Similarly, since Shiva manifests as Ardhanarishvara, he is described as wearing an ear ornament on one side. Nevertheless, there are records indicating that men did wear rings in their noses and ears.”
Dialogues of revival
The renewed attention raises questions about what happens when traditional jewellery moves from everyday community life into celebrity styling and commercial promotion. Dharmarajan says businesses shape ideas of desirability by linking products with festivals, heritage and familiar cultural images. “The question is who gets to decide what represents our culture. Increasingly, companies can influence those decisions through the images they create and the messages they repeat. They begin to function as cultural gatekeepers.”
A thandatti-inspired look can introduce the ornament to people who have never seen one. The risk arises when the image circulates without the history of earlobe stretching, the differences between designs, or the communities and goldsmiths who preserve the craft. A meaningful revival would credit those makers and wearers, acknowledge the social pressures that led some women to abandon the practice, and include the people whose jewellery fashion has begun to be rediscovered.