The Sari - A Symbol of Traditionality or Modernity?
The sari, a garment that has come to represent Indian traditionality to many South Asian women around the globe. It has remained an integral part of South Asian dress, with its roots dating back all the way to the Indus Valley Civilisation in northwest India (which existed as early as 2000 BC). Interestingly, to many South Asians post colonisation of the subcontinent, it has also come to represent British imperialism.
Traditionally 6 yards of fabric, often beautifully coloured and delicately embroidered, the sari is a versatile piece of clothing - women from different parts of South Asia choose to drape the fabric in different ways. To me, draping a sari is a deeply personal and intimate practice, something that is taught from mother to daughter, a moment that unites all South Asian women in history, regardless of time and place. Being from the diasporic South Asian community, the first time I wore a sari connected me to the women in my ancestry in such a deeply intimate way. The drapes themselves are precise and delicate, mirroring artistry and patience woven into the fabric. Each pleat holds the weight of tradition and generations of shared experiences, carrying with it the grace of those who have come before.
And while these feelings of nostalgia and shared experiences may be true to me, this does not take away from the ways in which the sari has been co-opted by British colonialism. The top of a sari is called a blouse, the under skirt a petticoat; it is without a doubt that this vocabulary is due to an attempted (and successful) modernisation and assimilation of Indian dress by imperial forces. The sari, whose meaning comes from the Sanskrit word for ‘piece of cloth’, used to be just that.
Now, it has come to encompass these additional garments alongside a coloniser's viewpoint. Many pre-colonial Indian women once wore the sari bare breasted, colonisers saw this as inappropriate for foreign men to gaze upon. As such, they subverted the traditional use of the dress, as it increasingly represented ‘native promiscuity’. A fetishisation of a piece of cloth indicative of the wider subjugation of its wearers.
This is not the only time the sari was a contested garment in South Asia’s history of colonialism. The subcontinent reached independence from the British in 1947 and was consequently divided into India and Pakistan. The year 1985 saw a partial banning of the sari in Pakistan by military dictator Zia-ul-Haq - this was applied to women in government roles and TV broadcasters, and women were discouraged from wearing saris in general. This was in an attempt to separate Pakistan as a nation from India as political tensions were then, and remain now, fraught. But this does not mean that non-Indian South Asian women have any less of a claim to the sari. In fact, I believe the act of wearing the sari is an act of reclamation of culture. A reclamation necessary for redefining South Asian culture and dress as a separate entity from colonialism.
What was once a garment worn by the common woman has now become associated with wealth in the media - the wedding of Anant Ambani and Radhika Merchant this past summer saw both Western and South Asian women wearing the sari. A six-day event of such excesses of wealth that only further contributed to the removal of the sari from everyday dress.
A removal that has only been amplified by the garment’s influences in high fashion; Jean Paul Gautier’s Hermes Spring 2008 collection saw sari-like draping and fabrics; Naomi Campbell’s 2023 Met Gala look was undoubtedly a sari - if not sari-inspired. While we can all appreciate its beauty and the artistry it highlights, there is a bittersweet reality that this cultural garment, once grounded in utility and tradition, has transformed into a symbol of exclusivity. This shift reflects broader conversations on cultural appropriation and commodification, raising the question: in this elevation of the sari, are we preserving its legacy, or are we losing touch with the humble roots that gave it meaning?
I am not arguing that it is possible for the sari to become the uncomplicated piece of fabric that it once was, the political history is too fraught and the modernised symbol of the sari has become far too commercialised in Bollywood and other pieces of pop culture and media. I believe it is necessary to decolonise our thinking when considering the sari in order for it to be a piece of fashion that can unite South Asian women through difficult times of political tension, and by doing so we can honour the legacy of the sari and the women who came before us.
Written by Humaira Valera
Edited by Daisy Packwood, Fashion Editor
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