The Man Behind Sarees by Ritika Sharma

 An Indian fashion student wore the traditional Indian attire on the streets of Milan in 2021. A

headline worthy story here was of a male student wearing a sari and bindi to represent his culture.

‘Breaking gender norms’ as many famous news platforms called this story. In the recent times when

many celebrities and ‘influencers’ are have taken up the mantle to challenge gendered clothing, saris

too have become a site to contest ideas of masculinity and femineity. The ‘traditional Indian

women’s attire’ seems to be joining the androgenous fashion trends.

While the questions like who drapes it? Or how it is draped? do challenge the ideas of gender and

‘Indian’ culture, it leaves out one important area where gender norms can be questioned – men

behind sari making.

The process behind the production and sale of saris is a tedious one which includes mostly men at

the decision-making stages. The process of sari making involves several steps from spinning,

weaving, dyeing, and more that involves entire communities of people. Although, the technological

changes in methods have allowed a faster, cheaper and a more profitable production. Despite this,

there are still communities of people engaged in traditional handloom practices. These communities

see their participation in the process as hereditary which has also led to the creation of regional

styles in saris. Banarasi silk saris, Kanchipuram or Mysore’s specialities are all well known among the

households of middle-class. However, behind these differences a common feature exists – the

labour of women.

Handicrafts and textile industries are no different than any other industries when it comes to

acknowledging the labour of women. Be it the large-scale factories, or the family handlooms run

within a single community, contribution of women is not given equal status. On one hand the wage

gaps and harsh conditions of fast fashion industry exploit women labour to most. On the other hand,

the patriarchal traditions among communities do not acknowledge the unpaid labour of women in

their families. This is quite evident in the sari making process as well. The majority of ‘heavy’ work

like weaving is taken up by men and the women are side lined to less valued works like separating

threads. While it can’t be taken as a norm across the country, the women in sari making process are

not given credit or allowed to own resources used to make the cloth. Their presence in these spaces

is no less, but the value attached to their work or the profits generated are not distributed among

them. Having said that, there indeed are spaces where women are not included- the sari shops.

Anyone who has shopped for saris would be familiar with the image of a man displaying a range of

saris, often draping it on himself. Women selling saris in such shops is a rarity. This tempts the

thought, why is it that men wearing saris is a question on their masculinity but salesmen draping it in

shops is relatively dignified? Also, why saris are traditional female attires but women’s contribution

in sari making is diminished?

A recent short documentary named ‘Sari men’ was released on YouTube which aimed to explain

‘how sari flows through gender gaps.’ The main point of the documentary was to depict how men

are involved in the craft of sari making and how pandemic has affected their businesses. The hashtag

of sari men was used to spread awareness about the conditions of sari craftsmen. Interestingly, the

film starts with scenes from plays where a man dresses in sari to act as Draupadi. Even they question

the irony of the scene. However, what seems lost in the documentation is the absence of women in

the process of sari making. Rather, the presence of men ‘protecting’ the craft through generations is

glorified. It surely is important to question the ideas of gender binaries and roles ascribed to them,

but the exclusive spaces like sari shops add more layers to this.

Nevertheless, saris and their production can be seen as sites to contest many patriarchal values. In

this questioning it should not be forgotten that gender, much like many social structures do not act

in isolation in our society. While one can see the class and gender interactions that create

inequalities among women workers in this industry, there lies regional intersectionalities as well. In

our present national debates on traditional identities and dominance of Hindu culture, clothing

found a place at the forefronts. In this context, the generational presence of Muslim communities in

sari handlooms in Banaras brings forth new complexities. While they too side line women’s labour in

the process, their religious identities make their roles relevant to the contestation of ‘traditional’

and ‘Indian’ culture. Therefore, the debates around saris and their making are an insight to the ideas

of gender, sexualities, class, caste, religion and culture itself. Behind the piece of cloth seen as the

marker of national identity, thus lie the complex intersections of societal inequalities.