| mora's birth began with desperation in the face of looming disaster. It is founder, Ritika Mittal's personal story: |
"There was a time, when going to a tailor was a nightmare to me. Invariably, I would end up with product I would have a hard time wearing. It took some time to realise that my intense aversion had little to do with the tailors themselves, but with the kind of clothing I was getting made for myself: it was utterly conventional. The same bling and borders, the same copied cuts and yokes, lacking in ingenuity altogether! |
 The kick-in-the-backend happened when it came time to get married. All I could choose from was multicoloured versions of the same shiny-blingy Sarees, which was an absolute no-no for me! I wanted cotton or silk and nothing gelled right. After two months of desperate hunting with a marriage date looming overhead, and rising panic on an impending costume disaster, I decided that for my Mehndi, I would wear a simple Mulmul Saree with some borders from other fabrics that I liked. My mother's tailor was tasked with the stitching. |
My mother, of course, was horrified. She called me from the Punjab a thousand times, in despair, 'How can you wear Mulmul for a wedding?!' I stuck my ground; there was no way in hell that a Georgette Saree would climb over me at my wedding! |
Becoming a mechanised textile-and-billing-factory is not our thing. Staying true to our weavers and our customers...and our backpacks...is! |
The obstinacy paid off: when the Saree was done, Mum called, 'I think its nice ya, lets do more!'. If mum was OK, I was OK, so I ventured further: Cotton Handloom for the wedding day! Mum was disconsolate, she was counting on something respectable like silk, 'DISASTER! How can you have cotton for your wedding Saree?!' |
Well, as it turned out, I wore Cotton after all. And it was fabulous! It felt wonderful and looked wonderful and since the wedding was wonderful, it was all kinds of fabulous all around. People even complimented the Saree, asking me where and how I had got it made. |
All that positive feedback made me wonder, 'Is this a talent at all? Is it something I could make work outside my own wardrobe?' More as a dare to myself, I designed nine more Sarees like the wedding outfit. It was crude - designed on paper, with swatches of the fabrics stuck or stapled on to indicate what will be the base, "palti", drape and pallu, what is border1, border 2, border 3 and so on. Rolled it all up into one parcel and mailed it over to Ma to have her tailor do it again. |
I don't know how... I think it's a mother-daughter thing...she instinctively grasped the designs. A few weeks later, she called, 'The Sarees are turning out strange, good but strange. Why are you getting them made?' I was all tight-lipped about it - it was fear actually. I had never designed before, and I was afraid that I was getting ahead of myself. But Ma was a sport, and the stitching continued. Over the weeks the first nine were in production, I designed another handful, and called home to check on the work. |
Then Ma sent me the first parcel of nine Sarees....I can't tell you how anxious I was. Work (I was in media at the time) was a total washout... it was as if I was appearing for some big exam! A close friend and colleague, Roseanne, and I rushed to the office bathroom, locked ourselves in and opened the packet... |
..We were numbed: the Sarees came out exactly as I had imagined!! I could design after all! I called Mum that night, and after giggling all day, the tears came tumbling down: finally, I had found my calling. |
As for selling the Sarees, I had no idea what to do. These Sarees are nothing like what one buys from a store. And then, out of the blue, a friend of my sister-in-law called me. |
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She had seen a Saree I made for my sister-in-law and wanted to see more. So I showed her what Ma sent me. She booked eight of them immediately! A phone call to Punjab followed, and mother and daughter cried again. |
I had a week or so before mailing over the parcel, when I realised, I have no branding! Sitting in the autorickshaw on our way home, my husband and I came up with "mora": because we will make only one-of-its-kind textiles and so whoever wears it makes it entirely their own. I was going to meet Swastika - my best friend, who makes lovely coaster-sized drawings - the next day. We chatted - we were in an auto again - and she spontaneously showed me something she drew as we talked. I suggested we add "mora" in between the leaves and voila! Branding complete! Within that week, heaven knows how, we got style sheets printed, labels prepared and off we sent mora's first courier! |
The Genesis story would end here, if it wasn't for one crucial mistake I made. |
mora sold its first eight handloom pieces in the first week, and I had no idea who I sold them to. |
That is something I didn't want to repeat ever again... this was not some impersonal business dealing, it was a communal sharing of a passion for textile, the handing-down of a legacy of rural artistry and it was imperative to be able to see whose mora it was going to be. |
A dare, a mother-daughter connection, blessed friendships and on the seat of an autorickshaw is how mora was born. The lessons learned about keeping it personal remain as a paramount principle of our work. To see mora growing, taking its baby steps every day... you know, it's overwhelming sometimes for a girl scared to go to a tailor, to think weaves/ fabrics/ stitches/ yarns! But it's building and there is so much love and good vibe around mora that it makes it all worthwhile!" |
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