The hidden Indian embroideries you’ll see everywhere soon

Embroidery is the lifeline of Indian couture. It is to Indian fashion what Chantilly lace is to a French maison, or Seta di Como to Italian luxury—near-synonymous with its sartorial history. Embroidery isn’t only quintessential to Indian design; it has made guest appearances on Parisian, London, and New York runways—think McQueen, Gucci, and Balmain’s use of zardozi; Stella McCartney, Ralph Lauren, and Dior toying with chikankari for resortwear; or Chanel and Eileen Fisher experimenting with kantha. Indian embroidery hasn’t been a niche player for a while—but niche players in the world of Indian embroidery very much still exist.

Beyond the three best-known forms, embroidery styles like aari, mirror work (sheesha), gota patti, and 
pichwai also remain household names. The most formidable designers work with them routinely, tailors 
are intimately familiar with them, and fabric markets—be it Chandni Chowk (New Delhi) or Kalbadevi 
(Mumbai)—are lined with rolls beset with their threadwork. Yet, the rules are never clear—why some 
forms gained traction while others, equally luxurious, carefully crafted, and rich in history, never quite made it to the couture radar. Think chamba rumal, the vibrant pictorial embroidery of Himachal Pradesh, or 
Jharkhand’s monochromatic sohrai and khovar. The storehouse of lost Indian embroideries that fell by the 
wayside is brimming with potential—and three of the country’s key couturiers are now tapping into it.

“India isn’t a country, it’s a continent in terms of craft—and each region has its indigenous ones,” says 
couturier JJ Valaya. “Some are nurtured, some are forgotten. It’s hard to point out the extinction of just a 
few.” Legacy designers Abu Jani and Sandeep Khosla agree: “There isn’t a single form of embroidery that is integral to India’s ancient and much-celebrated craft and cultural legacy, which isn’t vulnerable to 
degradation or even complete extinction.”

Couturier Amit Aggarwal names a few forms he fears are fading fast. “These include sujni from Bihar and kamdani work, a type of metal embroidery once worn by royalty. These aren’t just techniques—they’re history woven into fabric.” 

Run the numbers, and the data doesn’t lie—several forms of regional embroidery are battling extinction. Chief among them are lambadi and toda (Tamil Nadu), chamba rumal (Himachal Pradesh), and, surprisingly, even the once-ubiquitous phulkari (Punjab). While small-scale efforts persist—artist Lalita Vakil’s work with chamba rumal, or artisan initiative Porgai’s push to contemporise lambadi—there’s still a long road ahead to preserve these waning art forms.

That effort always begins at home—and the first question is what our veteran designers, so vocal about the need to protect these crafts, are doing to support them through their own labels. Aggarwal’s work, for instance, has always gone against the grain—marked by 3D silhouettes, a commitment to recycled materials, and hues that play with light. For him, the embroidery that resonates most is zardozi—reimagined. “I like to reinterpret it—not in a traditional sense, but through unconventional materials and sculptural forms that feel futuristic, yet deeply rooted in our heritage. It’s my way of bending time—honouring craft while shaping what’s next.”

Jani and Khosla are deliberate in their revival of more niche regional forms. “In the early years, we turned our focus to the Rabadi—nomadic people with a gypsy soul and lifestyle—taking their magically raw and rustic thread embroideries and elevating them to couture, using the most intricate stitches and a palette that evokes bohemian romance. Twenty-four years later, we continue to hone and reimagine Rabadi embroidery, honouring its roots while expanding its possibilities.” In 2001, the duo visited Gujarat in the wake of the Bhuj earthquake and began working with local artisans to reinvent the indigenous tharad 
embroidery. “We loved the tribal appeal of this geometric, resham embroidery and wanted to elevate 
this beautiful craft to couture.”

Valaya believes his label has long embodied the phrase ‘royal nomads’, and the embroideries he 
works with reflect that spirit. “I’ve defined that for brand Valaya over the last two decades or so,” he says. “I’ve always considered royalty the finest connoisseurs of luxury. They’ve always supported craft, encouraging artisans to create masterpieces that otherwise don’t exist. It’s why you’ll find the finest examples of this work in palaces.” His label’s work leans into a contrast between the refined and the raw. “I often juxtapose the exquisite metalwork of mukaish embroidery with stones and crystals; it feels true to the spirit of the nomad and the heart of the royal, which underline the brand.”

Embroideries often fall by the wayside due to a few harsh realities. Chief among them: Low wages (with artisans earning below minimum wage), the rise of machine embroidery and fast fashion, limited government support or preservation programmes, export-driven policies, increasing consumer detachment from the origin of crafts, and reduced generational transference as younger artisans move towards other vocations. Each is a challenge in its own right, but wages and economic security remain a common thread throughout.

Jani and Khosla are paying close attention, committed to revival—but they believe the push must be universal. “If we are to truly revive and preserve our heritage, support must come from both the government and the private sector,” they say. “Craft traditions fade when they no longer offer a viable livelihood. For these traditions to survive, craft must be economically rewarding. Artisans should be recognised and compensated as skilled professionals—not undervalued as inexpensive labour. As consumers, we must honour their craftsmanship by paying fair prices that reflect the true worth of their work.”

Valaya believes modernisation efforts will help—and sees a boomerang effect among the younger generation. “There had once been an exodus—a newer generation had begun to lose interest. But I see many of them now returning to this form of artisanry.”

Aggarwal acknowledges that preservation efforts are already underway. “From government-led artisan clusters and NGO initiatives to private craft revival projects—many designers are consciously collaborating with traditional craftspeople, giving their work contemporary relevance.” But he believes it’s just a drop in the bucket. “Preservation alone isn’t enough. We need to enable evolution. Craft cannot survive in a museum—it must live in our wardrobes, in our homes, in modern design. For me, the real opportunity lies in reimagining how these traditional techniques can fit into a global, modern context without losing their authenticity. It’s about translating their essence into something future-facing. When craft is allowed to evolve, it not only survives— it thrives,” he adds.

All images: Courtesy GettyImages.com and the brands

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