Every fold tells a story.
An afternoon in Brickfields becomes a lesson in cloth, craft and the details we too often walk past.
A saree can catch the eye long before we know how to read it. Colour arrives first, then the shimmer of a border, the movement of fabric over a shoulder. In the August issue, Manjeet Dhillon steps inside a Brickfields shop to ask about those details, and discovers that one garment can open onto many different traditions.
Learning the vocabulary
The lesson begins with the cloth itself: a long, unstitched length held in place through tucks, pleats and the skill of the wearer. The pallu, the decorative end draped over the shoulder, gives the weaver room for a particularly expressive passage. The border, meanwhile, can signal a textile tradition before the rest of the fabric has even been unfolded.
The drape adds another layer of meaning. Dhillon’s guide describes the familiar Nivi arrangement, with pleats at the front and the pallu over the left shoulder, then contrasts it with clothing adapted for Bharatanatyam dance. The difference is practical as well as visual: a garment’s shape responds to what the body needs to do.
A language woven into silk
A Kanjivaram saree introduces the article’s next lesson. Its contrasting border is woven separately and joined to the body, while zari brings metallic detail to the pattern. Paisley forms, temple-like borders, peacocks and lotus motifs offer clues about craft, setting and occasion. These are details to ask about, rather than universal rules to assume from a passing glance.
The conversation widens to Pochampally ikat, with its softly blurred patterns, and Gadwal sarees, which combine a lighter cotton body with a silk border. Another shop offers the restrained cream-and-gold palette associated with Kerala traditions. By the end of the afternoon, the street looks different. The mannequins and shop windows have not changed; the observer has acquired just enough vocabulary to notice how much more there is to learn.
Reading a Saree
Original story by Manjeet Dhillon. The Expat, August 2026, pages 38–39.
This digital preview is adapted from the original magazine feature. Text has been shortened and rewritten; photography and artwork come from the print edition.
