Women around the world have adopted a ubiquitous way of dressing. Trousers, dresses, and skirts are a familiar sight, almost without exception. And yet, in the Indian subcontinent, traditional attire is worn every day. To work, to bed, and on special occasions. At the heart of our indigenous wardrobes is the sari, a garment that is over 4,000 years old. Has it evolved? Certainly. But it has stood the test of time, emerging as a fashion frontrunner even in the 21st century. Last year, The Design Museum in London hosted an exhibition called The Offbeat Sari, which celebrated the contemporary sari in its various avatars, its unfixed form enabling it to morph and absorb changing cultural influences. Today, the sari is worn to The Met Gala with as much pride and ease as a temple visit.
The term ‘sattika’ is first mentioned in the Rig Veda, which dates back to 1500 BCE. It speaks of a garment that resembles the sari, which is described as a three-piece outfit - each strip of cloth used for a different purpose; as a skirt, as a bodice, and as a shawl (the forerunner of the present-day pallu or dupatta). Women from the lower classes supposedly wore just a single unstitched garment and went bare-breasted. However, saris pre-date these references by almost one millennium. Depictions of women wearing the garment have been unearthed by archaeologists when they discovered artefacts from the Indus Valley Civilization. This unstitched piece of cloth draped around the body continues to remain the oldest garment still in existence.
However, there are opposing views on the sari. Some consider it a traditional and constraining garment, one which restricts women’s freedoms and choices. Another viewpoint believes that a sari is a symbol of unabashed womanhood. After all, Sarla Thukral donned one in the cockpit as far back as 1936, making a statement that women could be strong, capable, and successful in a feminine garment of their choice. We don’t have to occupy men’s spaces and their garments – we can make the spaces our own, and in our own garments.
The sari has had a long evolution since its inception. During the Mughal rule, for instance, Persian and Indian designs merged, offering a tapestry of weaving techniques that would transform the textiles used in the sari. From Banarasi silks to soft chikankaris, these advancements created legacies that endure even today. One of the most transformative design alterations occurred in the 1800s when colonial powers spread their cultural influences across the country. Diaphanous fabrics were considered vulgar and immodest, and replaced by thicker and sturdier ones. Blouses became almost mandatory, and the in-skirt or petticoat made its debut. Even though we have shed other remnants of our colonial past, the blouse and petticoat continue to be staples. With the freedom movement, there was a resurrection of handlooms, with khadi being at the forefront. Indira Gandhi was the poster girl for khadi, through Indian Independence, as well as her time spent as Prime Minister. Soft-spoken and strong-willed, her sari was a symbol of power and authority. Women in Indian politics – from Sonia Gandhi to Nirmala Sitharaman – have favoured the sari.
The colours of a sari carry as much traditional symbolism as the styles and fabrics. Red is considered vibrant and auspicious, worn by new brides and pregnant women. Black is inauspicious, and must always be used in conjunction with another colour – perhaps on the border or the motifs. White is for widows. With time though, these notions have been dispelled, and it isn’t unusual to see a bride in a black sequinned cocktail sari or a Yash Chopra leading lady flaunting her white chiffon drape. Bollywood has had much to contribute to the evolution and styles of the sari as well. Mumtaz could do the twist – a western dance move – in her orange-mermaid creation, Rekha smouldered in her rich traditional Kanchivarams, and millennial desi girl Priyanka Chopra rocked the sari with new-age glamour.
The sari is no longer a garment that adheres to traditional norms. Women today wear saris with sneakers, prioritising comfort and practicality. There are ready-to-wear saris for women who cannot deal with the complexities of draping one. Its ability to adapt to the changing world around is why the garment stays relevant to Indian women, who continue to be living, breathing ambassadors of its story.
According to Aishwarya Rao who authored the book Pleated: Unconventional Women In Traditional Drapes, ‘The sari is so fundamentally associated with tradition, although it is far from conservative by definition. From assimilating Victorian concepts like the blouse and underskirt during the time of the British Raj, to absorbing new colour palettes, fabrics, and weaves, the sari has evolved with the times and a woman’s identity. Saris as an extension of the woman is all around us – in art, religion, mythology, cinema, politics, and more… White saris are often associated with inauspicious widows – but Saraswathi is divine in her pearly white attire, unpinned from domesticity, gracefully pursuing knowledge, consciousness, art, and language; a striking and under-discussed symbol of liberation. Looking beyond its colour, the way a sari is draped has historically reflected societal hierarchies, class, and caste… Woven into the garb is power and potential. It instigates, protects, and liberates… the legendary Draupadi’s started a war. Jayalalithaa’s, an opposition party.’