The red saree: how my gran's silk sarees became Shikra London

This is the story of a red silk saree, my gran, and how Shikra began.

Where it starts

Over 170 years ago, my ancestors were taken from India to South Africa to work as indentured labourers. Their hands worked on land that didn't belong to them. They arrived with barely anything, but they held on to their culture with all that they had.

Generations later, some of that culture was folded away in my gran's cupboard.

The red saree

My gran would give me her silk sarees but I didn't have any occasions to wear it to so I took one of her sarees, a red silk one, and turned it into a top.

I wore it with jeans. I wore it with a leather skirt. I wore it to Sandton City in Joburg and Pavilion in Durban. I thought I was just making something to wear to the mall. I didn't know then that I was designing.

And my gran? She was just happy it was being used.

Not saved for a wedding. Not kept for best. Worn, on a normal day, with jeans.

That was the first time the saree changed shape, not meaning.

A bridge between worlds

Looking back, that top was me in one outfit. Indian and South African. East and west. A blend of two places, never fully belonging to either. It would take me years, a career in banking and a move to London to realise that feeling was worth building something around.

Shikra is that red silk top, grown up. A bridge between worlds, for everyone who carries more than one home.

This is part one of a series. Next, I'll share what it was like growing up in between, adding London to the mix, and how I finally chose to make things.

Is there a saree, a dupatta or a piece of jewellery in your family, sitting in a cupboard, waiting to be worn? Tell me about it in the comments.

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