In India’s evolving luxury landscape, heritage is no longer being viewed as nostalgia — it has become part of the conversation around value, identity, and craftsmanship. At a time when global fashion is rediscovering the appeal of provenance and handmade objects, a new generation of Indian entrepreneurs is bringing traditional textiles into a more contemporary luxury space.
Among them is Shanti Banaras’ creative director and co-founder, Khushi Shah, who is rethinking the way Banarasi weaving is positioned today.
For Shah, the sari was never just occasion wear. Growing up in Varanasi surrounded by looms, real zari, and generations of textile knowledge, craft was simply a part of everyday life. But it was only after studying at the Fashion Institute of Technology (FIT) in New York City and interning with Marc Jacobs that she began to understand the gap between how Indian textiles are created and how they are presented globally. The issue, she realised, was never the craft itself — it was the way it was being communicated.
Since returning to India in 2021, Shah has expanded her family’s legacy business into a modern luxury label with atelier-style stores in Delhi and Mumbai, while continuing to champion handloom weaving, real zari, and artisanal craftsmanship in a market increasingly driven by speed and replication.
Through visually driven campaigns — whether drawing from art forms like Chhau or creating collections that spotlight causes such as tiger conservation — she is helping position Indian textiles within the global luxury conversation, while staying deeply rooted in the traditions they emerge from.
In conversation with Robb Report India, Shah speaks about craft, custodianship, and why the future of luxury may lie in things that are made slowly and meant to last.
Khushi Shah (KS): I grew up around Banarasi textiles, so the craft has always been a part of me. For me, it was never about changing it, but about expressing it in a way that feels personal to my generation. Through our campaigns and the way we approach design, we’re constantly reimagining an age-old textile in our own language. The craft itself remains untouched in its integrity; it’s the perspective around it that evolves.
KS: Being a part of the Fashion Institute of Technology (FIT) gave me distance and clarity. Growing up in Varanasi, I was deeply immersed in the making, the design, the intricacy, and the time that goes into each piece. It was intuitive, but also very inward-looking. What New York changed was my understanding of how luxury is perceived globally. It’s defined as much by positioning and context as it is by craftsmanship. And that’s where the real shift happened for me.
I realised that Indian textiles, especially real zari, already embody everything the world recognises as luxury: Rarity, time, and technical precision. The gap wasn’t in the craft, but in how it was being articulated. Being at FIT made me far more conscious of the narrative, presentation, and discipline in how a product is introduced to the world.
KS: The challenge didn’t lie in introducing the idea of a Banarasi sari as an investment, because that understanding already exists to an extent. It was in shifting how consistently it’s seen that way. Over time, with the rise of more occasion-led saris, even Banarasi started being framed around when it would be worn rather than what it represents. The challenge was to move the conversation back to its inherent value, material, longevity, and the fact that it’s something you build and keep over time, not just buy for a single moment.
KS: Balancing modernisation with authenticity has been one of the most important parts of building the brand for me. As someone from a younger generation, I’ve constantly explored how far we can push things, especially in how we present the sari. There have been many discussions within my family and team around this. But the line for us is very clear — the technique, the material, and the integrity of the craft remain untouched.
What evolves is everything around it. Whether it’s through campaigns like Chhau, Roar, and Jamiti, or through styling and context, we approach the sari in a more contemporary, sometimes unexpected way. That’s what allows a younger audience to connect with it. So, for me, it’s not about changing the craft, but about changing the way it’s seen.
KS: I do think it will become just as important. The younger generation is increasingly interested in understanding what a piece holds, where it’s made, how it’s made, and the craft behind it. That context adds a layer of meaning that design alone can’t carry. It’s not just about how something looks, but what it represents. And I don’t see that going away. In fact, I believe it will continue to shape how people define value in fashion.