The Sari Edit:
An Interview By Faz Gaffa-Marsh

Born and raised in Kenya, Rakhee lived in a multi-generational Gujarati home with cousins to play with after school, and aunts swarming in the kitchen. “My mother always enjoyed cooking, she made food for everybody. It was her love language — the way she cultivated joy. And until today, my cousins and friends would still remark about how good my mum’s food was, and how she was always so generous, and so kind.”

“My mother was a simple woman, you know?” Rakhee continued, as her voice broke, as a wave of grief washes over her. “I could count on her to always be there — when I came home from school, when I needed her near. It was the best relationship. She always encouraged me to do more than she did, even when she was sick.”

“My mother battled cancer for years. And even when she was sick, she still had sarees on — they were simple, soft cotton saris — but it was truly a part of who she was. The way she wore her sari was effortless, but in so many ways also incredibly powerful. It was just a testament of how proud she was of her heritage.”

“For me, saris were always occasion wear, for Diwali, or even weddings that I attended. After my mother passed away, I was left with so many of her sarees, and I couldn’t drape them on my own, so I gave a lot of them away. But the older I grow, and the more I see women rock saris day-to-day, I wanted to reclaim a connection, moving it from cumbersome occasion wear to day-to-day clothes styled beyond its conventions. It’s more than just 6 yards of cloth — it’s an identity.”

“It has been 13 years since my mother passed away, and while the pain never goes away, I am finally beginning to feel ready to talk about her and honor her,” Rakhee added. The ultra limited edition collection is made up of cotton mulmul saris in two colours, ready-pleated and as is.