Ally Matthan On Ten Years Of The Registry Of Sarees And Bangalore's New Centre For Design

The weather in Bangalore has a way of putting you in a good mood before you have even decided to be in the city and that is exactly how my weekend began. I landed to beautiful skies and a balmy breeze that made the whole city feel unhurried which, as it turned out, was rather fitting for where I was headed. I had come for two milestones happening together: ten years of The Registry of Sarees, and the opening of its new home, Registry: Centre for Design.

Before the main event, I made my way to the Registry's original space, tucked into a quiet corner of Domlur. Modest from the outside, the place unfolded an experience that made it hard to hurry away. Amidst the rolls of textiles there was an extensive library of textile and design books lining the walls and the collection immediately made me want to cancel my evening plans and just read. It was here that I met the incredible team behind the initiative, especially Radha, whose passion for textiles was so profound that it made me question whether I'd ever cared about anything with that level of conviction.

I spent a while learning about how the team archives and revives old textiles and got to see different forms of khadi laid out side by side, from the coarsest weaves to ones so fine they could pass for muslin. It struck me, listening to them speak how much of this work is really about honouring the artisans behind every thread.

The main event, however, unfolded in Langford Town, inside a beautifully restored 1932 bungalow that now houses Registry: Centre for Design. The inaugural exhibition there, Perched Upon Design, was curated by Aayushi Jain and brought together forty-five sarees, each chosen to explore textiles through the ever-changing interplay of light, colour and perception.

Material culture, research and contemporary creative practice sat at the very heart of it. Amid the celebration, there was also a well-deserved spotlight on PEKKO, the premium body care brand founded by beauty enthusiast Ekta Agrawal, Silki Agrawal, and Ally Matthan - the ISIPCA Paris-trained perfumer. The brand is rooted in a simple philosophy: skincare should transcend routine and become a daily ritual. 

It was against a backdrop of blooming oleander, jasmine buds and warm, golden light that I sat down with Ally Matthan founder of The Registry of Sarees and The Registry: Centre for design, to talk about ten years of work, what still lies ahead, and why she thinks textiles can never really be studied on their own. She wears many hats, but somehow makes each role feel like a natural extension of the other. That made narrowing down my questions all the more difficult as every conversation opened the door to another fascinating subject.

Idea Behind The Exhibition

"The Registry of Sarees is now ten years old," Matthan begins. "Through our work, we've wanted to expand not only how we study textiles, but also what we study them with. We believe textiles cannot be understood in isolation. They need to be studied in conversation with other design disciplines."

Perched Upon Design, she explains, sets that direction in motion. "This exhibition introduces ways of understanding textiles through light, colour and weave structure. Until now, we've focused largely on narratives and history, but we also need to train ourselves to see textiles differently and engage with textiles in architecture, graphic design, furniture, landscape and other creative practices." The larger hope, she says, is to build a stronger framework for studying textile design in modern India.

What Ten Years Of The #100SareePact Has Meant To Her

Long before this existed, there was the #100SareePact, the social movement Matthan initiated that encouraged people to wear and share the stories behind their sarees. As participants documented their textiles and family histories, she began recording these stories systematically and what started as a simple pact between friends slowly grew into a research archive. The Registry was formally established in 2016 and has since become one of India's more significant independent research initiatives on textile history, design and material culture.

Personally, she says, the journey has changed her. "My life has become richer because of textiles. They've introduced me to extraordinary people and exposed me to creative practices that I don't think I would have encountered otherwise." It has also shaped her other great interest, perfumery. "After spending ten years as a student of textiles, what I've learned now informs my perfume practice. It has made me deeply interested in sensorial design. Learning to perceive textiles through colour, light and yarn has influenced the way I think about fragrance as well." When I press her on where fragrance and textiles might meet next, she laughs it off gently. "That's a much larger conversation. You'll have to come for another show I do for me to answer that properly."

What The Registry Actually Does

To understand the Registry properly, Matthan explains, you have to understand that it behaves less like a museum and more like a working research library. "In most museums, visitors experience textiles behind glass and from a distance. Even textile students and researchers rarely get the opportunity to closely examine historic fabrics." The Registry was created to make these textiles available for research and knowledge-building.

Building this archive has meant years of travel and direct engagement with weavers across the country, alongside acquisitions through dealers and donations. Every textile that enters the Registry is given a unique accession number, undergoes a detailed condition assessment, and is reviewed by conservators. Pieces that do not meet the Registry's collecting criteria are returned to their owners.

The Registry also houses the flagship stores of Yali, Matthan's textile label rooted in handloom research, and Pekko, a contemporary ritual-led skincare brand. Completing the experience is Indulge at The Registry, a café by Ayesha Katrak that extends the institution's cultural vision through food, creating a destination where craft, design, and lifestyle come together. The Trust houses also two growing collections: Meanings, Metaphor, one of the most comprehensive studies of khadi ever undertaken, and Red Lilies, Water Birds, an extensive survey of South Asian textile traditions. These collections form the foundation for the Trust's research, design, curatorial, and publishing initiatives, while also supporting the long-term preservation of fragile textiles through conservation, documentation, and a dedicated reference library focused on textiles, art, culture, and design.

Textiles And Technologies That No Longer Exist

Some of what The Registry holds simply cannot be recreated anymore. Dhakai Jamdani muslin, once woven so fine that a whole saree could pass through a ring, is a well-known example. The original cotton variety it depended on disappeared for years due to changing environmental conditions, though revival efforts are now underway. An older style of Paithani in the collection was woven on an exceptionally complex loom setup that is no longer in use anywhere and modern methods have simplified the process at the cost of the original technique. Climate change, urbanisation and shifting landscapes continue to quietly erase cotton varieties, like brown cotton, that once grew naturally along riverbanks.

I learned that authentic handwoven textiles remain expensive for a simple reason which is because in tapestry weaving, every coloured section is built by hand, thread by thread, rather than woven continuously across the fabric. The finer the design, the longer it takes and not enough buyers are willing to pay for that labour, which pushes makers towards faster, simplified techniques instead.

A single saree is rarely woven alone, since a loom warp is usually prepared for a minimum of four, so anyone wanting a one-off design is encouraged to group with other buyers. Small customisations, like a change in weft colour are possible but are always negotiated directly with the weaver.

The Road Ahead

For all that The Registry has built in a decade, Matthan is clear that this is still early days. "Learning-wise, I think we've barely scratched the surface. The last ten years have mainly given us the confidence to become better students. I'm thinking in terms of the next thirty or forty years, because there's still so much left to learn."

That same humility shapes how she sees the next generation of saree wearers. Asked what she would change about how younger Indians engage with the garment, she doesn't hesitate. "Honestly, I wouldn't change anything. I think younger Indians are actually leading the way. The way young people wear sarees today is innovative, adventurous and full of spirit. I'd much rather learn from their examples than try to change them."

As for what lies beyond textiles, Matthan hints that The Registry's ambitions are only widening: "Our larger agenda is to build a practice that engages with different forms of weaving and hand-led creativity that are rooted in who we are. If we're using cloth as a way to understand design and identity, then naturally that conversation can extend into other creative disciplines. Our identity is constantly evolving and we're interested in exploring that through design."

And if you ask her to pick a favourite textile, despite everything she has seen and studied over the past decade, she still has an answer ready. "I'm partial to Ikats and they've always remained among my favourites."

Walking out of the Langford Town bungalow that evening, past the last visitors still bent over the sarees on display, it was easy to see why. Ten years in, Ally Matthan still talks about textiles the way a first-time student might.