The Fabric of Mumbai

Red, Yellow, & Green. Orange, Purple, and Blue. Every possible shade surrounding you. Standing in the middle of a bustling street in Mumbai you are swarmed by stunningly vibrant shades of every color in the rainbow.

One of my favorite parts of traveling is immersing myself in the culture. Meeting the people, eating the food, having a go at the language, and experiencing the history. There is no better way to enjoy a country then to join in with the population.

In a fabric shop in Delhi on a previous trip. (2010)

On my travels through India I never failed to find a fabric shop chock-a-block floor to ceiling with magnificent material. So on my last trip to Mumbai I felt inspired to have a few dresses made that I had looked for in the States but had yet to come across. My dear friend was in Mumbai for research and had a charming tailor she went to with various fabric and designs with which he crafted uniquely beautiful attire.


We went to a local fabric shop to hunt for the perfect material. I wanted a few playful summer dresses so I found some light material with beautiful patterns for the skirt portion. One was black with colorful confetti raining down it and the other looked like a feathery mosaic of various shades of red and orange. It was then time to hunt for the top half, a jersey knit fabric in a beautiful crimson and jet black that was stretchy and comfortable. Once we both had our selections we handed the shop keeper our Rupees and headed to Mohammed's.

Mohammed's shop was on the corner of a relatively busy little road. It had a little hole in the floor bathroom

My best friend with Mohammed wearing her own tailor made creation!

in the corner behind a curtain, three sewing tables and two wooden storage cabinets. The building was two concrete walls and two massive aluminium doors that rolled down to close up shop. Open unpredictably from about 11 til 10 the shop was run by a hard working, incredibly sweet man with a great sense of humor.

We walked up to Mohammed's shop and I gave him my fabric describing my vision to him as he took down the details on paper, carefully drawing some basic sketches of the design. However, when putting my fabric away Mohammad paired them incorrectly putting the black jersey knit with the black pattern and the red jersey knit with the red pattern. I had decided on them being paired red with black and black with red but our creative minds were at odds. After a humorous discussion Mohammed repaired them as I desired and took my measurements for the dresses.

Several days had passed before we went back for my dress fitting and as we began to approach the shop I could barely contain my excitement. Mohammed was obviously happy to see us when we arrived and he quickly produced four dresses! Having only requested two I was shocked to see four beautiful dresses appear each hand crafted for me. Mohammed decided that since there was enough fabric he would pair them both per his vision as well as my own. I went into his curtained bathroom, careful not to fall in the hole, and tried on each of the dresses. They were beautiful but the fit was just slightly off in certain places so we left them with Mohammed for the final alterations.

One of my dresses having the zip fitted

The next night we went back to the shop for the final fitting. I went in to the bathroom with the first dress and it fit like a dream. The second dress however, was not quite as much of a success. The material used for the bottom half had no give and as the waist had been sized for my waist which is smaller than my top or bottom it created a slight problem. Now this would not have mattered if I had not been so determined to get it on, but in all of my excitement I pulled the dress over my head, wedged it down over my shoulders and realized very quickly that I was well and truly stuck. The dress was not going any further, up or down! I tried desperately to tug it back off but would not budge. Arms in the air, eyes and nose poking out of the top of my dress I shouted for my friend to come and help me. She poked her head in the curtain and burst out laughing. She slipped in to the tiny square of a room with me and started to weasel the dress off my shoulders. There we were, two people in a bathroom barely big enough for one, tugging in either direction while desperately trying not to fall in the hole in the ground which served as a toilet. Having been friends for 20 years we couldn't escape the humor in the situation and ended up gasping for breath in between fits of giggles which only made the fit tighter. Luckily, however, we managed to catch our breath after several minutes and with some coaxing she managed to free me from my threads. I put my shirt back on and we emerged from the bathroom to curious faces trying to hide their amusement. With cheeks burning I explained the problem to Mohammed and after a little bit of confusion and lots of giggling he decided to add zips to the sides of the two dresses with the inflexible material. We stood and watched as he made the final alterations. The dresses were exactly what I had wished for and when he only charged me the equivalent of $4 a dress I made sure to overpay him and not accept any change.

Now that I am back in the States I wear my dresses all the time and every time I can't help but smile as I think of how they came to be.