Circular designing & its challenges

There is something quite exciting about starting a new collection. The design boards are full of ideas, silhouettes begin taking shape, colours are discussed, and everyone has their own interpretation of how the final garments should look.

But what happens when the fabric refuses to do what you imagined?

Over the years, working with different textiles, we have become accustomed to choosing a fabric that suits a particular design. If a silhouette needs a beautiful fall, we look for a material that drapes well. If embroidery requires finer detailing, we choose materials that make the work easier. We didn’t realize that so many materials are polished and have abundance of chemical washes in them

With Avartan, we decided to approach things differently. We had already committed ourselves to using recycled textiles, avoiding unnecessary chemical processing and exploring materials that could be more responsible towards the planet. This meant that, for perhaps the first time, we were asking ourselves to design around the material rather than selecting materials around our designs. It sounded like a reasonable idea. Putting it into practice was another story.

The trouser that wouldn’t fall the way we wanted

One of our early design ideas was a beautifully draped trouser. Something relaxed, elegant and comfortable, with the kind of movement that makes a garment feel effortless. On paper, it looked wonderful. But our recycled cotton had other plans.

The fabric had its own structure and handle. It did not always have the fluidity needed to create the fall we were imagining. We could make a trouser, of course, but getting that particular drape was proving difficult. In conventional design development, the easiest solution would have been to change the fabric.

But that would have meant moving away from one of the very reasons we had started Avartan. So we began questioning the design instead. Could the cut be changed? Would a different construction help? Were we expecting the fabric to behave like something it wasn’t?

We are still exploring how to achieve certain silhouettes with the materials we have chosen. It has taught us something important. A design may look beautiful on a board, but it needs to respect the character of the material from which it is made. Sometimes innovation is not about creating something entirely new. It begins with accepting that the familiar way of doing things may no longer work.

When experienced hands meet an unfamiliar yarn

Embroidery has always been close to our hearts.

Through Asha Gautam, we have worked with Indian crafts and embroideries for many years. French knots, in particular, have been part of some of our most intricate work. Naturally, we wanted to bring this knowledge into Avartan, but with a different material vocabulary. Instead of conventional embroidery threads, we began exploring nettle and Eri silk yarns.

Nettle was particularly interesting to us because it is a plant-based fibre. But what looked promising as a material presented an unexpected challenge when it reached the embroiderers. The yarn was relatively stiff and had low elasticity. Our artisans, who were accustomed to working with softer and more flexible threads, found it difficult initially.

Even something as familiar as a French knot behaved differently. The yarn did not move through the fabric in quite the same way. Controlling the tension and achieving consistency required more care. The hands knew the stitch, but the material demanded a different approach. There were discussions, repeated attempts, and adjustments in the way the yarn was handled. For us, this became one of the most interesting parts of the process.

We often talk about preserving traditional craftsmanship. But perhaps preservation also means giving artisans opportunities to experiment with unfamiliar materials and develop new ways of applying their skills. Our work with women artisans in Deulpur, West Bengal, has been an important part of this journey. We are learning together, and that relationship matters as much to us as the embroidery itself.

Natural doesn’t always mean easy

Then came our experiments with natural dyes. We were keen to explore colours derived from natural sources, particularly because we had chosen to work with recycled cotton without conventional ready-for-dye processing. Initially, the idea seemed quite simple. If we were trying to reduce unnecessary chemical processing, why not explore natural colour?

But natural dyeing turned out to be a much larger subject than we had imagined. Some dyes simply did not work well on our fabric. Certain colours did not develop as expected, while others were difficult to reproduce consistently.

We also had to think about how the colours would behave after washing and exposure to light. A beautiful shade on a sample is of little use if it cannot perform well as a garment. And there was another question. Just because a dye comes from a natural source, does that automatically make the entire process environmentally responsible?

We began looking more closely at the water, energy, preparation, and additional substances that might be required. There were experiments that disappointed us. Sometimes we had to return to the beginning and reconsider our approach. But we also began to appreciate the complexity of natural colour in a way we hadn’t before. We are still experimenting, and there is a great deal left to understand.

What these experiments are teaching us

Six months may not seem like a long time, but it has been enough to change some of our assumptions about design. We have realised that choosing a more responsible material is only the first decision. What follows can be much more demanding.

A fabric may limit a silhouette. A yarn may require an artisan to rethink a familiar stitch. Natural dye may not produce the colour we had imagined.

And each of these challenges affects the time, cost and feasibility of creating a garment. We cannot simply ignore these realities because our intentions are good. There is also a temptation, particularly when building a new brand, to speak only about what has worked.

But some of our most useful conversations have come from things that didn’t. We are not claiming to have solved all these challenges. Some experiments are still underway, and some ideas may have to wait until we find better solutions.

What has changed is the way we approach them. We are becoming more willing to question a design, spend time understanding a material and accept that the result may look different from our original imagination. Perhaps this is what innovation really means for us at Avartan.

Not always inventing a new technique or announcing a breakthrough, but finding the patience to work differently, especially when the easier option is available. We began in Avartan because we wanted to question the way clothes are made and consumed.

Now we are discovering that this also means questioning some of the ways we have designed for years. And while that can be frustrating, it is also what makes coming to the studio every morning interesting.

The fabric may not always cooperate. But it certainly has a lot to teach us.

Team Avartan