Fashion: Jason Cheriyan ~ Textile craft

Jason Cheriyan: 'Design is dialogue'

(This article appeared in 2002)


IT'S THE invitation that gets me at first touch. Single threads of red and pink, violet and orange that meander across a black swatch as it flaps atop a card. It announces the collection by Jason Cheriyan to mark the third anniversary of the trendy Cinnamon Bangalore store. The tactile magic proves irresistible. It reminds me of the fine allure of chikankari when fashioned with imagination. Or the feel of Gujarati self-coloured applique, the edged surfaces that tantalise caressing fingertips. And so, though fashion is not my metier, I'm seduced by the call of texture, touch, and colour. I succumb.

 Jason's outfits offer texture imbued with subdued personality. Draped fabrics, whether patterned as skirts with long slits for sleek legs to flash through or kurtas with streamlined cuts suggest a second skin.
With each, it's the call of the skein that prevails. Whether seemingly random off-white strands that trellis a sleek white top. Or the gaze-stopping blues and purples that summon up an evening at midday, subtly marbled through with embroidery. Or the spontaneous pleat-effects on waistcoat-short kurtas.

What's distinctive about Jason's Workshop Line? "It is essentially the short kurta which is easy to slip into and out of, which is played with and cut in various proportions to lend itself in such a way that the wearer has a feeling of ease and luxury," expounds a backgrounder from Cinnamon's Radhika Poddar, referring to the racks laden with garments that range from cream-hued weaves to knobbly blacks, from luxurious cottons to purest silks in a non-traditional palette. Whether stoles or tailored garments, whether evening bags or saris, each has an invisible label attached - crafted with pride.

Can this be a designer to whom craft is a paradigm for fashion? In conversation with Jason, I find that's true to a deeper extent than I had imagined. "It's a very tactile profession, I'd say. You've got to touch and feel the fabric, work with people, weave it, embroider it, tailor it. There's never an end," explains gentle-eyed Jason, at his Workshop studio. "It's exciting because there's always something of the unknown. If you have a mindset where you've created the end, you probably won't enjoy fashion design."

Mulling over the element of the hand, I seek insights into his design overview. Jason, who also does the ready-to-wear Splash Line for the Lifestyle Store chain, offers: "I just do what I do. I hope it reflects what I am, maybe not consciously. Yes, I definitely do explore craft and the hand. Even a machine run by hand, as opposed to a power machine. That's probably the only common factor that I explore. Textures, they're important to me, as of now. But I'm not saying that's what I'll do all my life."

Jason, who did a course in textiles at the Government College of Arts and Crafts, Chennai before he signed up for an early batch at the National Institute of Fashion Technology (NIFT), New Delhi, (where Ritu Beri, who's making waves in Paris, was a classmate), delineates an interconnection between his personality and his designs, "Basically, I like interacting with people and communicating. It's always nice to see people wearing your clothes. Our opportunities are very market-driven, but that doesn't mean ours has to be an industrial product."

What sets Jason's designs - which are available at Ogaan in New Delhi, little boutiques in Spain, the Livingstone Studio in London, besides Cinnamon - apart? It could be that he once worked with a Buddhist monk, a former designer, from a settlement outside Ooty to create a line that sold at Saks on New York's Fifth Avenue and Neiman-Marcus.

Or with another Japanese designer. Or that his label has morphed its away through Jason Cheriyan, and just Jason, to its present avatar as Workshop.

What are the intrinsic elements of a Jason Cheriyan design, which a viewer described as timeless, even verging on the classic? "Sometimes I feel design is dialogue. I seldom sketch. Most times, I talk design. Or it could be just a swatch," he replies with animation. "I think the biggest investment is people, ideas and your own motivation. Then, money. If it comes in that order, it'll work out."

Watching the transformed swathes of purple and pink sway past, the magical infusion of navy with black, the barely-there embroidery that catches one by surprise midway up a garment, or the incandescent, unpredictable turns of thread , it's easy to believe Jason. And even to subscribe to his future dream. "Asia, to me, is the most exciting continent. I think the new directions, the new trends, the new excitement is going to happen here," says Jason with fervour, then adds an individual take on the global village. "I've been working with Indian crafts. But I have a fantasy. In the future, maybe I can work with craftspeople in Africa or Latin America. I'm interested in craft, that's it."

But to return to the beginning. The brilliant invitation card, which one invitee wanted to frame, happened by accident, insists Jason. As his designs grow from swatch to rack, perhaps accidents will add to their unique texture.

It's an enticement that's hard to resist, when fashioned by Jason Cheriyan.

(The Hindu Metroplus Bangalore, 2002)

Fashion: Sabyasachi Mukherjee ~ The importance of being Indian

(A pen portrait of the noted designer, way back in 2004, when he was at the start of his stellar journey) 


THE BRIDAL colours of red and gold flash fire on the ramp. They fuse the ethnic and the contemporary brilliantly in Kolkata-based Sabyasachi Mukherjee's fashion line at the launch of the Tanishq Aarka collection of 22-karat gold jewellery at the Taj West End in Bangalore.

How does Sabyasachi, the rising star of the Lakme India Fashion Week, interpret Aarka, which is inspired by the sun? Through a dazzling red sari with golden thread work, worn over a sheer, long-sleeved, turtleneck blouse with an edgy touch — a sophisticated brocade over-bra. Or a fitted zardozi blouse that hugs a dusky model as her lehenga glides down the catwalk, trailing a glittering dupatta, the total effect enhancing a delicate navel ornament. Each model sports an outsize red bindi, in keeping with the sun-bright mood.

In Bangalore for the show, the designer, a graduate of Kolkata's National Institute of Fashion Technology (NIFT) and winner of the British Council-Femina Young Designer of the Year 2000, explains his role in the Aarka launch: "My brand and Tanishq have always celebrated Indian sensibilities and have looked at contemporising our heritage... co-branding with Aarka was a very natural process... "


But how can this jewellery line that sells at Rs. 22,000 upwards, so reminiscent of Ajji's treasure trove, brilliant with rubies, coral and amethyst, chime in with today's lifestyles? Sabyasachi, 28, replies: "We chose a dusky South African model to launch this range, the global face of timeless jewellery. Why shouldn't even antique pieces be teamed with today's clothes, not just Didima's saris?"

True. When we check out the beauty's swan-like neck, enhanced by her upswept kinky hair and alluring chocolate profile, the traditional Indian necklace of twisted gold, embellished by a delicate filigree pendant that sparkles with fiery rubies, seems perfect. It crosses cultures and continents with ease. As do the ornamental earrings that swing from her lobes, perfectly in sync with the non-Indian.

Was the break in London in 2000 a turning point? "No doubt about that," Sabyasachi smiles. "I come from a middle-class Bengali family. That trip, like a Madhusudan Dutt poem, taught me to be proud of being Indian. If the West looks down on us, despite our fantastic heritage, we have only ourselves to blame. We need to look at who we are, where we're rooted."


Sabyasachi, one of two Indian designers invited to the next Milan Fashion Week, speaks his mind with a clarity that belies his years. He knows that his collections for the Indian and western markets have to be distinct, "because otherwise, the west would look at my clothes as just costumes. With fusion, we have to ensure it's subtle, not in-your-face." He adds: "Why is it that the Indian fashion scene was all excited only when Jean-Paul Gautier used brocade for pants? We're first discovered by the west, then we discover ourselves..."

He's savvy enough to woo even the MTV generation with khadi saris and fusion wear that speak in their tongue, buoyed by his interface with exquisite kalamkari pieces at London's Victoria and Albert Museum. He realizes that fashion success depends on hard work, not partying hard. And he's consciously decided to ease himself out of the rat race, with the support of his family and friends.

"I hate to look at videos of my earlier work," confesses the grand winner of Singapore's Mercedes New Asia Fashion Week, "because I keep seeing flaws. I think that keeps me in constant evolution. I'd like my label to have wearable Indian clothes, but with a quirky touch." Perhaps like his tea-stained, damask Nehru jacket with a burnt hem that was recently shown in Bangalore at the British Council's touring Global Local show at the Chitrakala Parishath.

When the Aarka show was over, we realised that all that glitters is not always gold. Because Sabyasachi's creative blend of today and tomorrow proved the talk of the town. It was, beyond doubt, the stellar element of the evening.

(The Hindu Metroplus, 2004)