Saris Are the New Heirloom Jewels, Courtesy Couturier Shravan Kummar

In a world obsessed with speed, Hyderabad-based couturier specialising in hand-woven saris, Shravan Kummar, chooses deliberate slowness, crafting textiles that belong to eternity. Known as one of India’s foremost revivalists of vintage traditions and crafts, Kummar doesn’t just create couture saris; he revives forgotten legacies, restores pride to artisan communities, and redefines luxury as a story woven in time.

His creations—vintage saris that often exist as one-of-a-kind heirloom pieces—are not just garments. They are tapestries of history, culture, and soul. From resurrecting forgotten weaves to curating intimate collaborations with artisans across rural India, Kummar is redefining luxury as provenance and purpose. Since founding his label, Shravan Studio, in 1993, he has produced numerous collections that have revived the beauty of kalamkari, ikat, brocade, benarasi, mata ni pachedi (the textile craft from Gujarat), and Telangana’s prized weaves—Gollabhama, Venkatagiri, Mangalgiri, and Narayanpet. Fashion, which he calls “his religion” became his calling at just 17 years, when he chose to step away from medical college and instead pursued fashion at the London School of Fashion Design.

At the heart of his work lies a deep reverence for India’s textile heritage. This isn’t mere nostalgia—it’s a responsibility. Growing up, he watched his mother drape herself in intricate textiles, the kind that have disappeared in today’s fast-fashion era. “These aren’t just textiles,” he says, “they’re living testaments of history, culture, and soul.” Where does this deep love for the six-yard drape come from?

Kummar grew up watching temple murals where deities were swathed in uncut fabric. “It struck me that divinity and drapery were inseparable. A sari forgives weight fluctuations, generations, genders—even time. There are 365 documented drapes; we’ve probably mastered only a dozen. That potential for reinvention is why the sari will never be passé.”

This sense of urgency—to protect a legacy before it’s lost—drives his mission. “When we showcase these weaves to global audiences, we’re not just reviving textiles; we’re restoring pride, livelihoods, and cultural identity. And for me, that begins at the loom—with the weaver, with the thread, with the story.”

Crafting Collaborations, Not Collections

For Kummar, finding the craft clusters and artisan communities he works with isn’t about trend-spotting. It’s about seeking out places where centuries-old mastery still survives, often on the brink of extinction. He has travelled extensively across rural India. Each cluster he chooses is steeped in generational knowledge, integrity of its technique and the uniqueness of its expression.

“Once we identify a cluster, the relationship goes far beyond sourcing. It becomes a partnership. We co-create—adapting old motifs for modern silhouettes, innovating within their vocabulary without diluting its essence. These artisans aren’t suppliers; they are co-creators.” He believes that the world is shifting from the ornamental to the meaningful, and Indian textiles with their layered stories and handmade soul, are perfectly poised to lead this renaissance.

He speaks passionately of Korvai Kanjeevaram, a weave deeply rooted in Indian heritage yet resonant with contemporary global aesthetics, especially for celebratory occasions. Equally poised for revival on the global stage is Mata ni Pachedi, the sacred narrative textile art of Gujarat. “In a world craving meaning and storytelling in fashion, this hand-painted tradition—rich with mythological symbolism and ritual significance— when reinterpreted with a modern eye, becomes wearable art. It’s ethical, handcrafted, eco-conscious, and timeless.”

Reinterpreting Tradition for Modern Luxury

How does one reinterpret ancient weaves for a modern luxury consumer without losing the essence? For Kummar, the process begins with what he calls "empathetic design archaeology." He immerses himself in the craft cluster, listening to dialects, absorbing the rhythm of the loom until the textile’s context becomes instinctive. Only then do contemporary silhouettes enter the conversation. “Instead of forcing novelty, I translate what’s already there—a Telia Rumal grid becomes a razor-sharp power suit, the sun-washed ochres of Pochampally Ikat morph into a gender-fluid bomber. Modern patrons get architecture, comfort, and pockets; the weave keeps its soul, symbolism, and the hands that birthed it.”

One of his most ambitious collections that took over a year-and-a-half to complete, Amnaya, is the perfect embodiment of this approach. It honours the idea of Swayamvara—but here, the sari chooses the bride. Over 18 months, 28 women, and 14 men coaxed natural colour out of garlic skin, onion peel, and dried bitter gourd. The entire palette was designed to glow only during the “golden hour” between 4:45 pm and 5:50 pm. Each motif—lotus, mango, Samudra Manthan—was first narrated as a fireside myth to the embroidery team so the stitches carried memory, not just pattern. “Slow? Yes. But a legacy piece deserves a gestation period akin to an heirloom jewel.”

Limited Pieces and Bespoke

Kummar's couture saris are often one-of-a-kind creations. Worn by several popular celebrities and even royalty, bespoke, for him isn’t about monograms; it’s about biography. “I draft a talapatra-like scroll of the client’s milestones—an heirloom passed on, a favourite raga, a grandmother’s garden—and embed those cues as weave codes, border poems, or secret pocket linings. No two lives are alike; therefore, no two Shravan saris can ever be.”

Designing a one-of-a-kind sari at his atelier begins as an act of devotion. Sometimes it starts with a myth—the dance of Damayanti under the moon. Sometimes it’s a piece of forgotten poetry, a temple mural, or even a grandmother’s lullaby. From there, Kummar visits the region where the weave belongs, listening to the weavers, understanding the dyes their ancestors used, decoding the symbolism of motifs passed down for generations. Once the story and the textile align, the team translates the emotions into structure.

“We sketch, swatch, and often abandon early drafts until the soul of the sari reveals itself. Then comes the collaboration—with a weaver, painter, or master embroiderer. The design changes in their hands. It breathes.” Each sari is unveiled with its own story, often accompanied by a scroll detailing its journey. “When you wear a Shravan Kummar sari, you don’t just wear fabric—you wear memory, legacy, and art stitched together in time.”

Ethical, Slow, and Purposeful Fashion

Over the years, Kummar has worked with rare textiles like Himroo, Mata ni Pachedi and many others. But for him, every craft he revives is rare, because revival itself is an act of rarity. His clients are collaborators too. “I read their body language, playlists, even the pauses in their speech. A lawyer’s measured cadence may translate into equidistant jamdani dots; a dancer’s fluidity becomes a pallu that never needs fixing. Individuality is etched into warp and weft of our creations.”

He also treats sustainability as non-negotiable. At his atelier, raw materials are hand-grown, pesticide-free cottons dyed with Azo-free natural pigments. His NGO, Society of Aalayam, underwrites looms, and provides school fees, and health insurance for over 800 weavers the designer works with. Even carbon miles are minimised— weaving happens within 300 km of the fibre source, and finishing is in-house. “Ethics are audited quarterly, not seasonally,” he notes.

How does he scale slow fashion? His prêt line Old Soul Fashion (OSF) in Chicago runs tiny 30-piece batches, ensuring volume for artisans yet rarity for collectors. Saris are part of couture; while our separates give the weavers sustained work. It also aligns with the new luxury ethos that is now fuelling the slow fashion narrative around the world. “Gen Z buyers aren’t dazzled by carats; they crave coordinates—‘Which village?’ ‘Which loom?’ Luxury has moved from opulence to origin-story.”

Combining Heritage with Future

Kummar's inspiration extends beyond textiles. Temple architecture informs his geometry; Ilaiyaraaja's scores influence rhythm; Satyajit Ray’s frames teach chiaroscuro; and his mother’s treasured wardrobe gives emotional tonality. Among his most cherished revival projects is reissuing the Mysore Palace kumkuma-red Kanjeevaram, a project he describes as pure joy. The most challenging? Deciphering the Holkar dynasty’s metallic Paithani in eco-friendly yarns. “It nearly broke the loom—but it now gleams without guilt.” And heritage, he has proven, travels first-class. At his international showcases across the US, second-generation Indians often gasp in surprise. “They say, ‘We’ve never seen Nizam-era Himroo look this street-cool!’ That validation proves heritage can travel first-class.”

What’s next from his atelier? Damayanthi—a meditation on yearning—and a portrait series featuring women over 70 draped in audacious handlooms. “Age, like craft, only deepens beauty.” A piece of advice to collectors seeking meaning over labels? “Acquire pieces that make you pause, then research the hands behind them. If the story moves you, the garment will outlive every trend.”