The Enduring Appeal Of Mizo Textiles Through Hannah Khiangte’s Lens

In India’s Northeast, the puan is most often seen at celebrations, woven into customs and the memories of the women who wear it. Yet, a sharply tailored jacket, a structured dress or an unexpected silhouette is not what most people associate with a traditional Mizo weave. That is exactly what designer Hannah Khiangte set out to make when she launched her label in 2013.

Working out of Mizoram, far from the traditional centres of the Indian fashion industry, Khiangte has spent more than a decade building a design language that treats the textile as a living material. Robb Report India spoke to her to understand how a childhood spent thrifting, sewing and listening to music became a label that carries Mizo weaves to a wider audience.

Fabric Of Identity

Khiangte’s relationship with clothing began long before the label. Struggling to find the style she wanted, she started altering, reconstructing and styling clothes herself. Her grandmother encouraged her to sew and knit, while her mother shaped her sense of personal style. As a teenager, she was drawn to music, thrift shopping and artists such as Gwen Stefani. “Fashion became a way to express a part of myself that I couldn’t always articulate otherwise,” she says.

It was only after starting her label that this instinct found a deeper anchor in her cultural heritage. Textiles she had grown up around, and had never considered through the language of design, began to reveal their own stories. “My relationship with the textile has therefore evolved from familiarity into a deeper sense of responsibility and creative possibility,” she says.

Collective Craft

For Khiangte, reinvention begins with respect. “I don’t approach the puan as a material that needs to be made interesting,” she says. “It already has its own identity, visual strength and cultural significance.” Her role, as she sees it, is to understand what the textile can do and find a form that lets it speak differently. Her designs thrive on contrast, bringing together the rigour of tradition and the spirit of rebellion, the precision of structure and the ease of fluidity. But before the puan can take on a new form, its patterns and the stories they carry must first be understood.

That thinking extends to the people behind the cloth. Garments at the label come together through weavers in Aizawl and Rulchawm Village, alongside studio artisans, pattern cutters, tailors and seamstresses. The relationship, she believes, must move beyond artisans simply executing a designer’s vision. “The knowledge held by weavers and craftspeople is fundamental to the work,” she says, adding that it cannot be learnt from a reference image or a design book.

Sustaining that knowledge, she argues, means creating consistent opportunities, respecting the time the work requires and building a system in which craft can be passed on and practised with dignity.

Beyond The Familiar

Building a label in Mizoram has meant navigating an industry where visibility and access often depend on established networks. There is also the question of expectation, and the narrow lens through which designers from the Northeast are sometimes viewed. Designers from the Northeast are often read first through geography and craft, while the design itself becomes secondary. “I want the heritage to be recognised, but I also want the design, construction, silhouettes and creative choices to be taken seriously on their own terms,” she says.

She sees the conversation shifting, with growing curiosity about the region, but wants that interest to become sustained opportunity. “I don’t want Mizo fashion to be treated as a niche category,” she says. “I want it to be part of the larger conversation about contemporary Indian fashion.” Equally, she believes designers from the Northeast should not be asked to represent a single idea of the region, and should be recognised for individual design languages, whether or not their work engages with traditional textiles.

In Her Own World

Away from the studio, Khiangte’s references are as personal as they are stylistic. The one rule she enjoys breaking is the idea that traditional textiles must be cut in traditional silhouettes, preferring to give something familiar a completely different attitude. Her influences lean towards music and individuality, with Gwen Stefani and Agyness Deyn among those who shaped her sense of style, and London remains the city she finds most inspiring for its subcultures and rebellious spirit. Looking beyond Mizoram, she would love to explore traditional embroidery from other regions and see how different craft techniques might interact with the weaves she already works with. And her idea of the ultimate luxury? Time and space to be fully present with the people she loves, without constantly thinking about what comes next.

Evolving Legacy

Looking forward, Khiangte wants the label to grow in design, reach and audience while keeping Mizoram at the heart of the process. That means new silhouettes, materials and ways of presenting the textiles, but at a pace that protects the quality of the work and the relationships behind it. “The future of the label is not only about the garments we create, but also about the opportunities we can sustain for the weavers and artisans who contribute to them,” she says.

Her advice to young women from Mizoram and the wider Northeast follows the same logic. They do not have to leave their identity behind to join a larger creative conversation, she says, but passion must be matched with discipline, technical knowledge and a willingness to keep learning.