Storytelling, Sourcing, and Preserving Culture: What it Takes to Build A Sustainable Artisan Textiles Brand
CFC Member Spotlight: Anjali Purohit of Studio Variously
Author and interviewer: Stella Hertantyo
Anjali is a designer with an entrepreneurial background — she has over 15 years of experience working for design studios, and fashion brands, and exhibiting in India, Europe, and the United States. Anjali is also the founder and Creative Director of the sustainable textiles brand, Studio Variously.
Studio Variously focuses on creating collections of textile-based accessories — for home and fashion — in collaboration with artisans around the world, to promote the restoration and revival of ancient techniques in hand weaving and heritage printing.
Through her industry experience, Anjali has understood the growing need for ethically made sustainable products. She has advocated for artisan-based businesses and ethical wages at the United Nations during the Artisans Summit in 2016. She is also currently on the Board of Directors of Fashion Revolution USA and actively volunteers for the Fashion Revolution Michigan chapter to educate about ethical practices in fashion.
I interviewed Anjali in the Conscious Fashion Collective Membership as part of our Member Spotlight interview series. Below are some of the highlights from the conversation about how she has:
Cultivated reciprocal relationships with artisans across the world,
Started a brand that preserves heritage techniques,
And why storytelling is a key element of conscious fashion.
What led you to work at the intersection of textiles and sustainability?
I would give a lot of credit to my design education in India and Milan for leading me to where I am now. During my education, I met many people from many different backgrounds and got to work with them on many projects. These colleges gave me both exposure to, and an understanding of, the world of design.
I was born and raised in India, so the cultural significance of Indian traditions was second nature to me. When you exist within the culture, you are not seeing it from an outsider’s perspective — you see yourself as just like anyone else. My hometown in India is one of the most design-centric cities in the country.
When I pursued my studies in design, I learned more about these local design traditions and understood them from a different perspective. But at the time design wasn’t seen as a stable or viable career choice. I was the first, and only, person in my family to pursue a career in design.
Yet my college — the National Institute of Fashion Technology in New Delhi — was all the backing I needed, especially coming from a family who had no concept of what a career in design meant.
My first few jobs had nothing to do with textiles. I focused more on hard goods — such as metal and wood. The first few assignments were about creating Christmas décor for companies such as Walmart and Target. I was a designer who was working with large-capacity factories.
These jobs were far from sustainable — the focus was purely on producing with speed. But I needed the work, so I took what jobs I could get.
At the same time, I was witnessing my peers working on different projects and I developed a fascination with understanding how products are made. Through observation, I learned about topics like wastage and material toxicity. This fascination caused me to question the ways we produce and eventually led me to end up where I am today.
When did you begin to notice the decline of traditional craft techniques?
In 2001, my home state in India experienced one of the largest earthquakes in the history of the country. The epicenter of the earthquake was a place that thrives with craftspeople. There was a lot of loss of life and infrastructure. It was one of the most difficult times for the people in that area.
In response to the earthquake, the United Nations Development Project facilitated a process of bringing students to the area as design volunteers to help rehabilitate the artisans who had been affected. I was one of these design volunteers. We had to come up with ideas and projects to work on to revive the livelihoods of the artisans.
At the time, I was working with pottery and ceramics and helping to revive those skills. This has nothing to do with textiles, but it was a real-life experience where I witnessed the realities of traditional skills being lost due to the devastation of the earthquake. I also witnessed the significance of these techniques in the community — as an artistic expression, livelihood, cultural heritage, and way to sustain their families.
After I’d finished volunteering, this experience still stuck with me. I began to realize how much the work of cultural preservation meant to me, because when I went on to work for big commercial retailers, all we ever did was follow the latest trends. Everything is a rush and all the retailers care about is working from season to season and producing thousands of the same products. Design and innovation don’t play a role.
I learned a lot about the behind-the-scenes of the industry from working at those retailers. But simultaneously, it made me realize how fast artisanal techniques are disappearing. Of course, automation and industrialization have their place and value. But for those countries that have their heritage and history — such as India — we need to maintain and spread those values.
For designers who want to contribute to cultural preservation, but don’t know where to start when it comes to initiating reciprocal relationships with artisans, where do you suggest they start?
From running my business, I’ve realized that each person has their own process, because everyone has their own connection to a material, technique, or product type. The first step is understanding what you want to do.
We live in a world that already has a surplus of everything. So you need to create something that plays to your strengths, adds value, has intention, and has longevity.
At the same time, I think it’s important to get as much work experience as you can by working with other designers who are already doing this work and learning from their processes.
How is storytelling an essential element of your work in sustainable fashion?
Storytelling is so important. Oftentimes, I feel like I’m not doing enough, because there are always so many stories to tell. For my business, sharing the stories behind our products helps people understand the depth of their value and where these products come from.
Every product we make is made in small batches. There’s a lot of attention to quality and detail and time spent testing prototypes. This means that when we list a product in our shop, you know it has been well researched, and tested, and it has taken lots of time for it to get here.
We’re not creating trend-oriented products that are sold for a few months. We have been selling many of our products for over five years now. So they’re in a reproduction cycle. Instead of constantly creating new products, we believe in evolving our products over time. This is why storytelling is so important.
We share the stories of our products through pictures, videos, and written words to show people how much care has been put into each product.
Long-term collaboration and the creation of sustainable livelihoods are a big focus at Studio Variously. How did you embed this in your business model?
The pandemic played a significant role in me testing the waters when it came to adapting our business model. It was a challenging time, but it made me ask questions such as: How do we go on from here? How do we manage things from here, especially with raw materials?
With logistics being at a standstill, we had to deeply explore the idea that “less is more” and optimize what we already had. Production slowed down a lot, but at the same time, we were able to work on unexpected projects such as interior decorating for hotels.
We also used the time to test out concepts and products that could be launched later. So we relooked at our timeline, decided what could be put in production and what could be put on hold, and had important conversations with the artisan communities we work with.
Being able to work with these challenges and adapt was a learning curve on how to maintain sustainable livelihoods, even during tough times. It's also about making sure that the true value of the product is reflected in the pricing.
You have to learn how to adapt to change. You can’t always have a status quo situation. Sometimes you have to let go of certain materials and products and work on what makes sense for the next two years, because products take at least three to four months to make at my brand. Keeping this timeline in mind is essential.
What is your advice for sourcing sustainable materials when you are not inside a big brand?
Again, I think you need to decide on what material excites you most. Not everybody can work with all materials. And not everyone’s design style is the same. The materials that make the most sense for my designs are natural fibers like organic cotton, silk, and linen.
Once you have your primary fibers, you can focus on continuously improving how you source these fibers. I’ll look into how the silk is made, where it comes from, and the timelines for procurement.
You can also reverse engineer the whole sourcing process — look at what’s available to you and work with that. There are many factors that are out of our control that affect the availability of certain fibers. This includes the effects of the climate crisis.
For example, I use a lot of marigold flowers for dyeing pillows and some of the throws. There was a time when these flowers were unavailable for almost six months, because of seasonal changes. I had to accept that and work around it. So you need to explore what your options are and create from there.
Working with materials created by local artisans — like we do at Studio Variously — is always more sustainable and climate-conscious. Artisan clusters emerged, because they had found ways to work with materials that are local to them.
Because of this, they drastically reduce their carbon footprint and naturally produce in climate-friendly ways. They often don’t use electricity or power tools, so their impact is much less than that of industrial production facilities.
From a historical and cultural point of view, there's so much climate consciousness that goes into this process, which is something I think we should all support.
That’s why following short-lived trends doesn't make sense in the grander scheme. You need to focus on creating products that add value and keep the livelihoods of your artisans in mind.
How does dipping into the past — with your use of ancient techniques — give you hope for the future of fashion and textiles?
Every time someone invests in one of Studio Variously’s pieces, I feel hopeful. Every time this happens, it affirms for me that people see the value in why my pieces are priced the way they are and acknowledge how much time it takes to make that piece. Experiencing this support reassures me that this slower, kinder way of producing is the way forward.
The younger generation also keeps me hopeful, because they have this curiosity to learn about where products come from and how they’re made. I think this is fantastic, because it challenges the status quo for everybody. I hope we all feel compelled to make better choices.
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