This Delhi-based duo is giving Indian textiles and the classic sari a fresh, modern spin

There’s something inherently attractive yet intimidating about passionate people. Then, there are the rare ones who can hold your attention for hours talking about their dreams without actually gloating about their triumphs, but passively inspiring you to strive harder. Textile designer Riddhi Jain Satija and her partner, filmmaker Dhruv Satija, have made a case for pushing creativity boundaries at Studio Medium without losing sight of ingenuity since 2017.

I had first met them in 2022 at their previous workshop in Neb Sarai, Delhi. It was around the time when their interplay of surface manipulation, textiles, and vibrant hues imagined through the classic six yards of timeless elegance, made the fashion fraternity take notice of Studio Medium. The hands-free sari, in question, has since become the brand’s signature, along with their imaginative take on resist dyeing techniques across items of clothing. It has been a journey over the years as the duo launched their flagship store at The Dhanmill, Delhi, in early April, and moved their workshop in the vicinity.

With a lot of intrigue, I set out to meet them at their new atelier a week after their store launch. They are still the same...unequivocally passionate, completing each other’s thoughts and sentences, holding the brand philosophy close to their hearts, yet have evolved in their creative interventions. Sharing his views about the timing of the store launch, Dhruv says, “We started to feel that we were only able to talk about what we do on Instagram or through our website in a limited sense. We needed a platform to show what we stand for in a much bigger way.” Riddhi chimes in, “It’s a space where our values and ethos take physical form. This store is an ode to the act of making. It is a means to express all that we think and do. We also needed a space near where we are, because we knew retail would be a learning curve.” The newly launched space is a design-forward extension of the brand’s workshop, conceived in-house and brought to life in collaboration with Chennai-based architecture firm, White Edge. It highlights the tactile diversity of textiles and the complexities of the processes intrinsic to the brand. The lesser-known design experiments from the workshop take centre stage in the decor—textile installations, upholstery, and creative outtakes from recycled material wastes. The arashi (pole-wrapping shibori technique) pipes, with remnants of colour used as base for a table at the store, are the ideal representation of material memory in fashion for me.

I pause to pick my black coffee kulhad from a tray of hand-painted ones in different shapes. They live and breathe design. One look around their office space and studio is a telltale sign—be it the paper lantern from their previous workshop, the first textile art created by Riddhi hung on the wall, or textile swatches clipped on mood boards. The wooden desk and chairs in quirky shapes, or the colourful fruits and vegetables charts reminiscent of our childhood school projects, reinterpreted with the brand’s iconic designs and pasted on the walls, where the karigars are immersed in the day’s work. For a textile-centric brand championing resist dyeing techniques, where and how does design join the overarching dialogue?

Form needs to follow a function. It’s straightforward for Riddhi and Dhruv. With the pattern in mind, the textile comes together to make it look good on a garment, and there needs to be a reason behind the pattern placement. It’s not a linear process. Riddhi explains. “We’re not looking at imagery to get inspired by and place patterns. We work towards giving a spin to a seam or a neckline. There is always a thought at the back of our mind, where we want to intervene in spaces that have a function and then experiment with textiles that make it all come together.” Take, for instance, their hands-free sari where the pallu comes with a strategically placed armhole, or even the JamBan collection, where the duo creatively combine bandhani with Bengal’s heritage discontinuous weft weaving technique, jamdani. It is a classic drape, and the hand still falls where it is supposed to. The overarching idea for Studio Medium revolves around how they can make the human body interact with the garment

“Textiles do come first, but that doesn’t mean once it’s ready, the textile is just cut into shapes to make a garment. We examine the textures after the dyeing process, or whatever surface process we’ve done. Which part of the body will it fit well? And then, the silhouette starts appearing in the picture,” Dhruv explains. For Riddhi, the idea is not to make anti-fit clothing. Even their kaftans will snug you in the right places, giving you a structure. “That’s how we imagine it. Marrying the technique and the garment construction together to give it a form is the most exciting bit.”

For those who have followed Studio Medium’s journey, they are aware of their ‘free-size’ chart and anti-fit silhouettes. What seems to be joining the movement of inclusive fashion stems from a more nuanced cultural responsibility undertaken by the duo. “Sustainability for us came first when we were in college, garments happened much later. It is much talked about right now, but it’s ingrained in us as Indians. I’m fascinated by saris, and the fact that my grandmother, mother, and sister— everybody can wear that garment. We wanted that kind of inclusivity when it came to designing clothes. Sustainability sits right at the core and comes before anything else. You define ways to talk about it, particularly. It’s not something that you can teach yourself. For us, being mindful is the way of life,” Riddhi sheds light.

Dhruv adds, “And, it’s almost like a joke with us now that when we design a sari, we imagine it as a 5.5- 6.5-meter canvas, not in terms of sections. We feel bad about taking a pair of scissors and chopping off a part. We try to cut as little of it as possible to give it structure.”

While the formative years took Riddhi and Dhruv to adopt their craft-centric brand vision and philosophy rooted in sustainability, it was also spent on creating a unique visual identity. They have cracked a certain kind of visual stamp—for instance, the shibori neckline or the circle. But that’s just the tip of the iceberg, as they are now focusing on other details to slowly build on a body of work, “which is so ‘signature’ of the brand that you will recognise without the tag,” Dhruv is certain. Riddhi elaborates, “We are excited to find a Studio Medium language for embroidery, which is in the works. We are trying to marry shibori with handloom weaving on the loom. The experiments at the studio are at an interesting phase, where we are constantly pushing ourselves and answering ‘what next?’”

India is an extremely season-specific market, Riddhi points out. But it’s not categorised into autumn, winter, spring, and summer. “It’s a lot of fun keeping Indian festivities in mind when designing. It wasn’t a conscious decision to introduce garments that we could imagine people wearing at mehendi functions. But it has also evolved in that manner,” she reflects. When designing for any particular collection, there are a couple of signature colours included in every season. Their signature indigos, limes, and hot pinks are constant, be it summer or winter. “Interestingly, all our essential experiments at the studio happen in black as we want to see contrast,” Riddhi adds. Last year, they experimented with surface embellishments and embroideries—from traditional gota lace, katha, to beads. The festive collection is a play of material and colour for Studio Medium, driven by the Indian market.

“In the first half of the year, we are more happy to experiment, even fail, and learn from our mistakes,” Dhruv points out. For instance, they tried their hands at handwoven cotton, but the clients preferred the colour contrasts on silk more than their cotton range. “It was a big learning, and maybe we still haven’t found the perfect articulation in that material. While the market feedback is important as that’s how we arrive at our category architecture, the actual processes and what a silhouette is going to look like come from the experiments that are constantly happening at the studio,” he elaborates. There is no one time to experiment at the studio. Some of the results take shape into the larger design narrative.

When it comes to shibori, there are various kinds of the technique that the studio works on—from arashi, ori-nui (hand-stitched resist dyeing technique), to kumo (pleated and bound resist process), kanoko (folding, twisting and binding with thread or rubber band technique), among others. For hand-woven textiles, the brand works with ikat, jamdani, experiments with zari and weaves, and combines different materials like linen, silk, or organza. “We are working with wool at present, it has been in the pipeline. We tend to work on various techniques with the same set of people and also collaborate with the weavers of Bengal,” Riddhi says. The larger focus is to maximise on traditional techniques and create for now. “We love the things that have happened in the past, as they were designed for the present and created something timeless. That’s the kind of approach we need to have with our designs,” Dhruv elaborates.

This futuristic vision has translated into their relationship with their craftspeople as well. “If you are curious, they will be curious too. If I show them a certain technique, they go ahead with the mindset of didi se behtar karenge (we will do it better). We still have our first artisan with us,” Riddhi says with pride. Dhruv smiles, “We’ve only been able to add people to our team. One person has led to another. They understand the ethos as well as we do.”

All images: Tongpangnuba Longchari

This article originally appeared in the print edition of Harper's Bazaar India, April-May 2025.

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