I Was Gifted a Sari. It Was Destined to Be So Much More

The moment she handed me the thoughtfully chosen sari fabric, I knew I wanted to turn it into something that I would wear to remind me of her and her family’s place in our life. 

The sari sat on my sewing table for months. I would put it away and take it out again, hoping to get inspired. I already own three saris bought when I attended a wedding in India years ago. My mind was consumed with concern about westernizing a custom piece. I didn’t want to lose key cultural elements of what makes a sari, but at the same time I wanted to make something I could wear more often than the typical midriff-baring ensemble – Denmark’s cold climate does not yield many days where this is possible. 

From Sari to College Admission Project

At the time when I kept pulling this piece of prized sari material in and out of my fabric closet, I was applying to go back to school to study textiles, design and dress history – a dream of mine since I was 18, and one that I was finally determined to realize.

If my application was accepted, I would be asked to sew one piece of clothing for the interview, as well as design a mood board around the theme “redesign.” I already had part of this assignment – my daughter’s cat dress – but the mood board presented an opportunity to rethink the sari, so I jumped right in. 

Did You Say “Sari”? Wait, I’ll Make a Kaftan! Actually, Maybe I’ll Make a Kimono Instead. 

Having to make a mood board ended up being the inspiration I needed to design and sew the final garment. I spent weeks looking for ideas from some of my favorite elements of Asian culture. I wanted to keep Western influences out of it as much as possible, so for my final inspiration I looked not only to the sari, but also to the kaftan and the kimono.

Elements from each of these garment types lend themselves to my body type. Besides, I felt I would be able to create a timeless and meaningful piece by combining them. Finally, with the “redesign” project at hand, I felt justified in not making a traditional sari.  

I started the project by getting creative with the sari fabric. I explored different ways to tie it around the body. It was important to get a sense of how the fabric would fall in different positions and how completely different the same fabric could look.

I then moved on to the kaftan. What I love about kaftans is that they are easy to get on and off, not to mention the effortless flow of the fabric and how it can embody femininity without any real shape. I knew that I wanted flowy arms, which brought me to the third type of garment, the kimono. A kimono typically consists of different square-shaped pieces sewn together; the belt is what gives it shape.

So with those ideas swirling in my head, I went back to my fabric. The fabric was thin, but when it was folded over, or gathered, it did a nice job of covering up. It had beautiful trim that I wanted to keep, challenging me to make sure I would use it all and at the same time not run short. Given all these considerations, I knew I needed a plan. 

A dress in a store window caught my eye one day as it was the perfect culmination of the three garments I had been thinking about – it literally brought all of my ideas together. When I got home, I immediately looked up the dress online to decipher the pattern, but I could not figure out the neckline.

So, determined to get to the bottom of it, I decided to order the dress to take a closer look and then return it afterwards. Yes, I felt bad about it, but I justified it by seeing it as a necessary part of the creative process for my school entrance interview. 

In the end, and after a lot of sketches, careful cutting and a few ripped seams, I now have a dress that I am truly proud to wear. It was an affirming experience to immerse myself in the history of the sari, kaftan and kimono.