Journal

A versatile, handwoven jacket designed for everyday wear. Made from breathable kala cotton with subtle structure and hand embroidery from Kutch, it’s a piece you’ll keep reaching for across seasons.

Achada is a cloth used underneath fabrics during block printing, reused until it reaches the end of its lifecycle. I rediscovered it in India and was struck by its layered colors and abstract patterns. What’s often overlooked revealed itself as something full of possibility - now being reimagined into one-of-a-kind, wearable pieces.

Kala cotton is one of those fabrics that grows on you. I’m sharing why I love working with it and why it felt right for the next Cottedge collection.

One of the highlights of my recent India trip was visiting Mathak, a small village in Kutch, and meeting Geeta Rabari artisan designer and seeing her work up close.

As we drove through the village, I noticed women sitting outside in the sun, absorbed in their embroidery - some alone, others in small groups, chatting as they worked.

When I met Geeta, I was amazed by her craftsmanship. Cottedge Kediya tops are also made by her team, and I happened to be wearing mine during the visit, which made the moment feel full circle. Geeta’s embroidery collection included traditional Rabari motifs in appliqué work and beautiful glasswork embroidery in bright colors. The level of detail in each piece was incredible. I’m still in awe of her work.

I wanted to buy some pieces for myself and some to gift to friends and family, but it was honestly hard to decide because everything was so intricate and beautiful.

Geeta was there with her husband, Bhavesh, their daughter, and his mother. I spent the afternoon with them, having tea and looking through many works of embroidery. Their warmth and hospitality stayed with me, and I really appreciated being welcomed into their home and village.

One thing that stood out to me was learning that Geeta had learned embroidery from her mother-in-law, who was sitting alongside us, working on her own pieces. Seeing Geeta learn and continue the same craft, side by side, felt special. Their daughter was adorable, and she brought along her favorite outfit, made by her mom, to play dress up.

Until this visit, I had only interacted with Bhavesh virtually, through WhatsApp and Instagram. Meeting the family in person was very meaningful. It was also fascinating to see how embroidery is such a natural part of everyday life and tradition in the community.

I brought back a few pieces from this visit, some I’ve kept and some I’ll share over time. These pieces work beautifully as framed art or can be repurposed into pillow covers, bags, or other decorative pieces. More than anything, it reminded me how much time and care goes into each piece. I really value the skill behind this work and feel fortunate to be able to bring a part of it into Cottedge.

I’ll be sharing a few of these pieces on Instagram soon so feel free to follow along if you’d like.

This article is part of a 10 part journal from my recent sourcing trips to India, where I share what I am learning about textiles, craft, and behind the scenes of building a small clothing brand.

One of the lessons I have learned while building Cottedge is how different the timeline of handmade textiles is compared to modern fashion production. People may be familiar with handloom or handwoven textiles, but fewer realize how many steps and how much time are involved before that fabric ever becomes a garment.

When I first began sourcing fabrics for sampling, the process felt relatively simple. I only needed small quantities to test silhouettes, experiment with patterns, and understand how different textiles behaved once they were cut and sewn. Small lengths of fabric were often available from existing stock, which made it easier to explore ideas and develop samples.

But once sampling was complete and I began planning production, I encountered a reality I had not fully anticipated. Fabrics are not always readily available in the colors and patterns needed, and producing them takes time. Seeing this process firsthand during my sourcing trips in India has completely changed how I think about fabric production.

With handloom textiles, the process is slow and hands on. Yarn is often handspun from cotton, naturally dyed, and then woven by hand on a loom to create fabric. Each meter of cloth is produced slowly, requiring multiple steps, skill, and patience. Handloom weaving happens at the pace of the artisan.

There are also many factors that influence the timeline of handmade fabrics. Festivals and holidays in India can pause work for several days or weeks. Family obligations are an important part of life, and weather conditions can have a big impact. For a small business like mine, this creates a balancing act. Custom weaving orders often require minimum quantities to make production viable. For a small independent brand, committing to those quantities can sometimes be difficult. Even when the minimums are manageable, the timelines for weaving and finishing the fabric can stretch over several months.

Because of this, one approach I often take when building a collection is to source limited quantities of multiple fabrics rather than relying on a single textile design for an entire run. This allows production to move forward while still working with handwoven materials, but it also means the collection naturally includes more variation in patterns and textures. My goal is always to design pieces that can be mixed and matched and styled together, even when the fabrics themselves are different. Sometimes the collection comes together exactly as planned, and sometimes it evolves in unexpected ways. That unpredictability is simply part of working with handmade materials.

This experience has taught me to plan further ahead and respect the slower rhythm of craft. When working with handwoven fabrics, we are ultimately working with people, not machines. Every step, from spinning yarn to dyeing and weaving, depends on human hands and human schedules. That reality brings both unpredictability and incredible value. The process may not always move as efficiently as modern manufacturing, but the result carries something machines cannot replicate: skill, care, and generations of craft knowledge.

Handwoven fabrics carry a kind of subtle luxury that is not always easy to translate online. The texture of the weave, the breathability of the cotton, and the slight variations created by hand weaving all contribute to a fabric that feels alive in a way mass produced textiles rarely do. Often the real beauty of handwoven fabric becomes clear only when you touch it and feel it. The softness, the gentle irregularities, and the depth of the weave are small details, but they are what make handmade textiles so special.

And perhaps that is the real beauty of handwoven fabric. It asks us to slow down and appreciate the time, skill, and human effort woven into every meter of cloth.

Part 7 of a 10 part journal. You can explore the other entries in the series here.

One of my favorite parts of traveling is the thrill of discovering unique pieces, whether it is clothing, jewelry, or art.

During my recent sourcing trip to Jaipur, I explored antique stores filled with vintage art, textiles, and one of a kind finds that continue to inspire me.

I had the chance to visit Indian Art House, an antique store that truly felt like a treasure trove. The space was filled with framed vintage art, interesting old door knobs and handles, textiles, and countless other objects that made me want to take my time and look closer.

I spent over an hour browsing, slowly taking everything in, and brought home a few pieces that felt special. But beyond the objects themselves, what I enjoyed most was the energy of the place. There was a steady hum of conversation, and I found myself chatting with tourists visiting from the UK, local visitors accompanying tourists, and collectors. It felt like we were sharing a small adventure together.

At one point, I stepped outside with a warm cup of tea graciously offered by the friendly owners and soaked in the winter sun. It was one of those simple, perfect travel moments.

One of my favorite finds was a fish shaped padlock and key. I had just seen a similar one days earlier at the Living and Learning Design Centre in Kutch and was instantly drawn to it. When I spotted it again in Jaipur, it felt almost serendipitous. I knew immediately I wanted to bring it home. I am also curious about the history or significance of fish shaped locks in India, if there is any deeper meaning behind them. I have not yet had a chance to research it, but that question makes the piece even more interesting to me.

I also visited Royale Treasure, another antique store with beautiful vintage frames, furniture, and sculptures. I only had about fifteen minutes before it closed, so I could not browse at my usual pace, but even that short visit was inspiring.

For me, sourcing trips are not only about textiles and production. They are also about absorbing visual culture, meeting new people, and discovering and collecting pieces that spark something deeper.

Cottedge began with the fabrics of my childhood and my desire to share them.

Growing up in India in the 80s and 90s, there were very limited tasteful ready to wear options. If I wanted something beautiful, I had to choose fabric and go to a tailor. My mom and I would select textiles, talk through sleeve lengths and necklines, and wait days or weeks for the finished piece. Clothing felt personal because it was customized. It was not disposable.

I grew up wearing a lot of block printed cotton. Block printing is a traditional technique where repeated motifs are hand stamped onto fabric using hand carved wooden blocks. One of my favorites was block printed Kota Doria fabric. Kota Doria comes from the town of Kota in Rajasthan and is famous for its delicate checkered pattern, translucent texture, and breathability. I often took my mom’s old Kota sarees and turned them into kurtas, simple tunic tops that felt easy and beautiful.

Chikankari embroidery is another strong memory. It involves delicate and intricate hand embroidery using white thread on a variety of lightweight fabrics such as cotton, muslin, silk, or organza. It is one of the most famous and exquisite forms of thread work practiced in India, passed down through generations of artisans in Lucknow and other regions of India. When my mom visited family in Lucknow, she brought back Chikan kurtas and tops. In the 90s, before online shopping, these pieces were not easy to find, and they felt special. 

When I started Cottedge, I naturally returned to these textiles: block printed cotton, Kota Doria, and Chikankari. I began with simple silhouettes inspired by what I had worn for years. I did not overthink it and started with what felt familiar.

As the brand grew, I discovered other handloom textiles that expanded my perspective. One of my favorites is Kala cotton from Kutch. Kala cotton is an indigenous, rain fed cotton variety that has been grown in the region for generations. It remains a pure native strain and is not genetically modified. It thrives in arid conditions with very little rainfall, making it naturally drought resistant and highly water efficient. Beyond its environmental benefits, I love its nubby texture and the way the fabric feels.

Around the same time, I began working with vintage Kantha quilts made from layers of old saris stitched together over the years. I see the history in them, the fading, the fraying, the small hand repairs. Turning these quilts into jackets, pants, and skirts has become one of my favorite parts of this journey. Each one is different, so every piece is truly one of a kind.

Moving forward, I would like to continue working with Kala cotton, other handwoven fabrics, and vintage textiles. I am always exploring textiles that feel thoughtful and distinctive, but the classic block prints and childhood favorites are here to stay. 

In a world driven by fast fashion and instant gratification, working with handloom textiles and small batches slows me down. It makes me respect the fabric, honor the artisans, and design around what already exists instead of rushing to produce something new.

At the end of the day, I simply love textiles. Through Cottedge, I love sharing the textiles I grew up with and the craft techniques behind them. I really enjoy turning them into easy, wearable pieces that people can live in and make their own.

During my recent trip to Kutch, I finally visited the Living and Learning Design Centre (LLDC) in Ajrakhpur, and I am so glad I did. I had heard about the embroidery collection for years, but seeing it in person was a special experience.

LLDC is about 15 kilometers from Bhuj in Gujarat and was established as a dedicated space for the research, documentation, and preservation of Kutch’s rich craft traditions. The museum opened to the public in 2016 and serves as a place where textiles are studied, archived, and thoughtfully displayed. It feels less like a typical museum and more like a serious repository of skill, history, and cultural identity.

The Living Embroideries of Kutch Gallery was truly a treat, and not just visually. The collection represents embroidery traditions from around 11 to 12 major tribal communities of Kutch, and within those there are more than 30 distinct embroidery styles documented across the region. What stood out most was how different each community’s work is. You can clearly see the variation in techniques, motifs, mirror work, density, and so on.

What is equally compelling is that the textiles and utilitarian homewares are not displayed merely as decorative pieces but presented with context. Some communities are nomadic, some pastoral, and each has its own history of movement and settlement. I learned about  Rabari, Ahir, Meghwaad, Jat, and Sodha communities to name a few, and how migration, trade routes, and even India’s partition shaped their craft traditions.

Learning more about the Rabari community felt especially meaningful to me. Our Cottedge Kediya tops are made in collaboration with Geeta Rabari artisans from the Dhebariya Rabari community. While the tops themselves are not embroidered, understanding the depth of Rabari embroidery motifs and history added another layer of meaning to the work we are part of.

There is also a section dedicated to men’s turbans (wish I took more pictures!), which I found fascinating. The way a turban is tied, and sometimes its style and motifs, can indicate the community, social status, and occupation a man belongs to. It took me back to our Peru trip, where clothing was such a strong indicator of what region someone belonged to. There is something powerful about how identity can be read through textiles across cultures.

While I was there, there was also a live block printing demonstration happening on site, which seemed like a fun, hands-on experience. I did not get a chance to try it myself, but I enjoyed watching other visitors participate. There is also a craft store within the campus that features clothing, accessories, and art pieces connected to the region’s textile traditions.

One of the areas of the museum was closed to the public during my visit, and I only had a little over an hour to explore. It honestly felt like sensory overload in the best way. There was so much beautiful work to absorb and so many details to take in. I took photos to document as much as I could, but I know I barely scratched the surface.

I would highly recommend touring with a guide. It was already such a sensory overload, and having someone walk us through the galleries made a huge difference. I joined another group of visitors, and hearing the details and stories behind so many of the communities and pieces helped everything connect in a deeper way.

I truly hope to go back one day. Next time, I would love to bring my mom and my daughters with me. It feels like the kind of place that deserves time, attention, and shared experience, especially since I went by myself this time.

Khamir is a craft resource centre in Kutch, India that works with Kala cotton, Desi Oon (local wool), and related textile traditions, and supports the revival and sustainable development of local crafts. I stayed at Khamir's on campus Guest House for three days during my recent trip to Kutch, and being surrounded by so much craft and creative energy was incredible.

What I loved most was the mix of people I met while I was there. There were small business owners from Europe staying in India for a few months at a time to develop their collections, tourists traveling through Kutch, and students from Indian universities working on interesting research projects. Meals at Khamir became this natural meeting point where people exchanged ideas, helped each other with logistics, shared recommendations, and just talked. It felt like a little community within a community.

The dining hall is where a lot of this happens. You’ll see guests gathering a few times a day, caretakers doing embroidery nearby, people sitting under the bright sun with a cup of tea, talking through ideas or simply catching up. There’s a calmness to the place, but also a steady creative energy that’s hard to explain unless you experience it.

Guest House Caretaker's Pet named Sweety 

I’ve shared about Kala cotton quite a bit on Instagram, but being in Kutch helped me understand it more deeply. Kala cotton is an indigenous variety of cotton that is not hybrid or genetically modified, unlike Bt cotton, which is widely grown in India. It’s traditionally rain-fed and well suited to dry, drought-prone regions, which means it typically requires far less water and no pesticides. Beyond its environmental benefits, the fabric itself has a beautiful, slightly nubby texture and a softness that improves with wear. It’s one of my favorite textiles, and spending time where it’s grown and woven made me appreciate it even more.

Amber Charkha (multi-spindle, hand-operated spinning wheel)

During my stay, I learned a lot about how Kala cotton yarn is spun and woven. Yarn can be mill spun, Amber Charkha (multi-spindle, hand-operated spinning wheel) spun, or Peti Charkha (portable box shaped spinning wheel easy to transport) spun, which is closest to traditional hand spinning. From there, the yarn is handwoven using a loom. Even though all of these fabrics are handwoven, they feel different. Peti Charkha yarn tends to be more rustic and textured, while Amber Charkha yarn is slightly finer and more even.

Peti Charkha (portable box shaped spinning wheel easy to transport)

I also got to see a wide range of handwoven cotton fabrics in Khamir’s warehouse and at the store on the premises. There’s so much happening on site beyond weaving too, including block printing, natural dyeing, and pottery, which makes the place feel very alive and active.

Spending time talking to the Khamir staff, learning more about Kala cotton, and connecting with other creatives during meals were easily my favorite parts of the experience. And I can’t not mention the craft store. It’s a treasure trove of beautiful textiles, pottery, jewelry, and clothing. Exploring the space, trying things on, and bringing a few pieces home was pure joy.

Desi Oon (Local Wool) Vest

I really hope to return to Khamir again, ideally during harvest season, to spend more time learning about Kala cotton and Desi Oon production and to source more beautiful fabrics. It’s one of those places that stays with you long after you leave.

A bit of backstory before we dive into the Patina Collection. Before Patina became a collection, it started with one unexpected find.

I saw my first vintage Kantha quilt in Jaipur on my very first sampling day trip in November 2023, and the “day trip” detail matters. Jaipur is about 350 miles from my hometown, Indore in the state of MP. I was home visiting family for just a week, and without knowing much at all, I booked a morning flight to Jaipur and an evening flight back the same day, simply to explore.

At that point, I had the contact for just one manufacturer, which I had found after a lot of online research, and no real idea of what to expect. I just knew I wanted to kick start Cottedge, and that meant taking the first hard step and just doing it.

While visiting the manufacturer that day, I came across a vintage Kantha quilt that immediately caught my eye. It had incredible color and texture and was worn out in a very unique, special way. It had so much character, and almost instantly I thought, I want to make pants with this!

That pair of pants became my very first sample. The placement of the grey patches was not quite right, and honestly, it still bothers me every time I wear them. But I love the colors, the fabric feels great, and I still reach for them again and again.

First sample pants and also very first Instagram post on Cottedge

Then I made a second pair. This quilt was thicker and felt sturdier, almost like denim. The fabric had weight, and the pants felt solid, like something you could wear all day without overthinking it.

After that, the ideas started to grow beyond pants. I began thinking about vests, jackets, skirts, and tunics. But that first pair of pants will always be special. 

I decided to call it the Patina Collection because the name felt fitting. Patina is about age, wear, and use. It reflects how surfaces change over time and become more interesting because of it. These pieces are not about hiding marks or inconsistencies. They are about working with old textiles and giving them a new life.

I have always been drawn to patina on old doors, furniture, and rusted metal. The oxidation creates unexpected colors and textures, and that is exactly how these vintage quilts felt to me. Each quilt is traditionally made by layering old sarees, dhotis (traditional garments worn by men in parts of South Asia), or similar cloth and stitching them together with a running stitch. This method grew out of practical textile reuse in rural households, where quilts were made for warmth, bedding, and everyday use, and it has been practiced for generations. Over time, the layers soften and shift, revealing new colors and textures underneath. That slow transformation is what makes each piece so special and why no two are ever the same.

On my most recent trip to Jaipur, I returned with a clear intention to source more vintage quilts and make additional Patina pieces. I revisited my original supplier and also connected with a new quilt supplier, and I was blown away by the beautiful quilts I found. A few Patina pieces made from vintage kantha quilts are already available online, with more currently in the works, and I can’t wait to share what’s coming next.

I recently returned from an energizing and very inspiring trip to India. While the trip included sourcing and manufacturing for Cottedge, it was equally an exploratory visit. I spent time in Kutch, Gujarat, learning directly from the artisans and weavers who carry forward generations of textile knowledge.

From Ajrakh block printing and Bandhani (tie-dye) to embroidery and handloom weaving, I had the opportunity to immerse myself in the processes, stories, and people behind these crafts. What stood out most was the balance I witnessed everywhere - deep respect for traditional techniques alongside a strong spirit of innovation and experimentation, especially among younger artisans.

In Ajrakhpur, I learned about the complex, multi-step process of natural dyeing and Ajrakh block printing, and saw how artisans continue to push boundaries through new color combinations and layered techniques. In Bhuj, Bandhani artisans are reimagining ancient tie-dye methods with fresh palettes and traditional + contemporary patterns. Embroidery artisans are expanding beyond classic mirrorwork into appliqué and unexpected color stories.

I also visited handloom weavers creating beautiful, distinctive textiles through intricate warp and weft techniques using dyed yarns. The character of each fabric is shaped by many factors - the number of threads used, whether the yarn is hand-spun or mill-spun, and how the yarn is starched and finished. Witnessing entire families involved in different stages of the weaving process was especially moving.

Again and again, I was welcomed into homes and workshops with warmth, conversation, and tea. These moments of connection are as integral to the textiles, and to what we do at Cottedge, as the techniques themselves.

Each craft in Kutch is deeply rooted in its community, passed down through generations and preserved through shared knowledge. This connection between people, process, and place continues to inspire me, and it shapes how Cottedge designs, collaborates, and creates. 

Until next time. I look forward to continuing this work with care and intention.

A closer look at the Kediya - a traditional silhouette from Kutch, Gujarat, reimagined with Dhebariya Rabari artisans in handwoven Kala cotton and hand block-printed fabrics.