As the sun cast its first golden hues over the city, my day embarked on a journey into the vibrant and intricate universe of fabrics. Little did I know that this day would unfold like a finely woven tapestry, revealing the secrets and stories behind the threads that clothe our world.
The morning commenced with an unexpected adventure as my boss and the esteemed CEO of Kurvam, Suberna ma’am, picked me up from E.M. Bypass in her luxurious car. Our destination? The enchanting Little Cry shop inside the Acropolis mall, where the pulse of kidswear fashion beats fervently. This outing was not just a casual shopping spree; it was a practical exploration to assess our competitors. As we delved into inspecting the brands, scrutinizing prints, deciphering materials, and studying price ranges, I realized the meticulous artistry that goes into the world of children's fashion.
Our journey continued, weaving through the bustling streets of Kolkata, heading towards the illustrious Weaver’s Studio. En route, Suberna ma’am, a connoisseur of fabrics, narrated the intricate process of crafting 'thaan' cloth. The distinction between Khadi and other threads was unveiled with poetic elegance—original Khadi threads, resembling clots, and wrapped in a specific direction, where any deviation results in the delicate threads parting ways. The threads' journey involved a kaleidoscope of dyes, ranging from natural to cost-effective artificial options.
Suberna ma’am painted vivid images of handlooms and Jacquard machines in power looms, describing the dance of threads as they transformed into exquisite thaans. The mention of Mr. Birendra Basak, a legendary thaan weaver, added an aura of authenticity to our quest. Plans were laid to visit Phulia, his hometown, post-Saraswati puja, to witness the ancient handlooms in action.
The grand gates of Weaver’s Studio opened, revealing a treasure trove of exotic fabrics. There, I realized that it is a supplier of exotic and all kinds of thaan cloths, along with sarees, suits, and different types of stylish ethnic wear, some of which are even used in fashion walks in the Lakme Fashion week. Here, I was introduced to the concept of thread counts—higher counts promised refinement and softness but traded off on durability. The studio showcased samples reaching an astounding 400/400 thread count, a testament to the craftsmanship that transcends time. I also learnt that some Jamdani thaans take more than 1.5 years to 2 years to make. And that, most of their cloths are sourced from looms in Bangladesh. Suberna ma’am, in her discerning taste, acquired two meters of distinct thaans, one a plain white Khadi cloth and the other a mesmerizing Jamdani cloth adorned with naturally dyed, colorful flower motifs. I left the Weaver’s Studio with a lot more knowledge about fabrics than what I had when I first came in.
Onward we ventured, setting our sights on Tantipara Lane, where apparently the weavers of thaan cloths or the ‘taantis’ are found in abundance with their own cloth shops. En route, Suberna ma’am unveiled the world of 'Black Sword,' a YouTube channel exploring the intricate art of fabric-making. Amidst chitchat about life aspirations and shared connections to the world of filmmaking, we arrived at Tantipara Lane, only to discover that the articles sourced from Google misleadingly guided us to an obsolete destination. On asking a local about the whereabouts of taantis, he told us that there may have been taantis situated there a long time back, but there weren’t anymore. The only thing that was in abundance there was butchers and meat shops, with dead ribs and other parts of cows and goats dangling from the kasai khanas. Disheartened but undeterred, we redirected our course to the culinary delights awaiting us at Mocambo, not before having a little fun adventure with a rickshawala who, even though did not know the way where we were headed, ultimately got us to our destination: where the car was parked.
A delightful luncheon unfolded, with an Irish Chateaubriand Beef Steak and a Mocambo Special Chocolate Mousse elevating my spirits. Amidst bites of culinary excellence, plans to meet a taanti were foiled by unforeseen circumstances. After lunch, for me, a leisurely stroll ensued, accompanied by the harmonious tunes of music, providing a much-needed respite from the day's whirlwind.
Our final destination, the Dakshinapan shopping complex, awaited our exploration. The complex beckoned with a plethora of government-registered fabric shops, out of which we went to Handloom House at first. The array of Madhubani print suit pieces of 2 meters of body, 2.5 meters of bottom, and 2/25 meters of dupatta; colorful Kantha-stitched fabrics; and Tassor silk adorned with Dongri prints unfolded before us. Suberna ma’am, guided by her discerning eye, acquired two Madhubani suit pieces and a Tassor silk thaan. On our way back to the car, we explored a few more shops in the shopping complex, but found no cloth to our utmost satisfaction.
As the day waned, Suberna ma’am insisted on dropping me home. En route, she shared the reality that, despite assurances from shopkeepers, the authenticity of naturally dyed fabrics remained unverified. As the day came to a close, with a heart brimming with newfound knowledge and curiosity, I stepped out of the car near my home and bid our goodbyes, realizing that I had embarked on a journey into the enthralling world of fabrics—a journey with no turning back.