India is rich of traditional practices and as we get exposed to this fast-paced lifestyle, we have started letting go slowly of our culture, heritage, and traditional values. I connect with anything hand-made like a bee to the flower. Hand-woven fabrics/textiles have a warmth to them, they make me proud and also keep me grounded. Sometimes I wonder how fabrics can have that effect on one. Possibly because I have grown up seeing both sides of the coin: the richness of handloom as well as the struggles of it.
It is a tragedy when people do not understand the true worth of handloom. Not only is it an heirloom product that defines the pulse of India, it is also a symbol of unity in our vast diversity. The handloom sector empowers a vast section of rural Indian society and provides a mainstay to India’s rural economy. Each handloom product is woven with skill, devotion and care.
PRASAD BIDAPA EXPLAINS WHY WE HAVE THE POTENTIAL OF BECOMING THE MOST WANTED PURVEYOR OF LUXURY GOODS IN THE WORLD!In India, the wide variety and worldwide popularity of our native Handloom textiles posed a big threat to the British. In their quest for world dominance with their machine made textiles, they concentrated on exporting their products to World markets. They ensured the decline of Indian Handloom by taxing it heavily, destroying looms all over the country and aggressively promoting their own power-loom fabrics woven in Manchester and other centers in England.
A smart shopper can tell the difference between hand-woven and mill fabric. It’s not that difficult if you know what to look for.....
All the fabric at Vayati has been produced by a handloom. This is a loom which is manually operated by a skilled human, rather than a machine.
The result is fabric which is unique, finely detailed and the result of a proud, ancient craft. Unfortunately handloom is a dying art, rapidly being replaced by power-looms simply because fabric can be produced faster and cheaper.
We've listed ways you can tell the difference between hand and power-loom produced fabric.
“Pay me what I’m worth,” is the new buzzword among the energised weavers of Yemmiganur, a group of traditional craftsmen known for their skill with cotton weaves. A far cry from the bunch of dispirited, disillusioned craftspeople left in the lurch, thanks to a whole range of political, economic, and fiscal circumstances beyond their control. Weary of governmental handouts, and sick of compromising on the quality of their art, they now have a sustainable future ahead of them.
