I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the clothing line. It started as this tiny little sideline just before lockdown, almost an experiment, really. A few kimonos, a few skirts, a few blouses and trouser suits made from old sari silks - deadstock fabrics that have no real value in India anymore, yet they’re some of the most beautiful textiles you’ll ever see. It was never meant to be a “thing”. It just quietly sat alongside the antiques and the art, and somehow it grew arms and legs without me ever really planning for it to.
The funny thing is, it always felt a bit clunky having it all under one roof - antiques, art, clothing - like three different worlds trying to sit at the same table. And when I made the decision to step away from the antiques so I could focus properly on the gallery, that part felt right. I love the gallery. I love curating. I love the art. That part of the shift has felt completely natural.
But the clothing… that’s the bit that hasn’t sat right with me. I thought I could just quietly put it to the side, let it fade out, tell myself I didn’t have the bandwidth for it. But it hasn’t gone anywhere. It’s still sitting in my head, tapping me on the shoulder.
And every time I wear one of the pieces, I’m reminded why. I wore one of the trouser suits at an antique fair last weekend - nothing fancy, just one of the silk trouser sets - and honestly, the reaction was ridiculous. People stopping me, asking where it was from, who made it, how they could buy one. And when I said, “Well… actually, I did,” they looked genuinely surprised. Because in their minds, I’m the gallery. I’m the art. They don’t associate me with clothing anymore.
But I do. I always have.
There’s something about watching someone put on one of those silk pieces - the way their whole posture changes, the way they light up a bit, the way they suddenly feel special without trying. I love that. I love that more than I realised. And I think that’s why I can’t let it go. It makes me feel brilliant when someone else feels brilliant in something I’ve created. It’s simple, but it’s true.
The price point has always been part of the magic too, so accessible for something that looks and feels like it should cost ten times that. It’s joyful. It’s not precious or intimidating. It’s just… lovely. And I miss that. I miss the feeling of it.
So now I’m sitting here wondering what on earth I’m supposed to do with it. Do I reinvent it? Do I bring it back as a proper side business? Do I let it run quietly alongside the gallery again, but in a way that feels more intentional this time? Or is there some other version of it I haven’t thought of yet?
All I know is that I can’t seem to put it down. It keeps circling back. It keeps nudging me. And maybe that means something. Maybe it’s trying to tell me something.
I suppose the real question is: what do I do with it now?
I’ve put everything that’s left in stock into one place - the final archive.
I’m not announcing a relaunch or a new direction. I’m not making any big decisions. I’m just acknowledging that this part of my creative life existed, and maybe it deserves to be discussed.
I don’t know what happens next. Maybe nothing. Maybe something. But it feels right to finally say it out loud and throw it out there. Thoughts?
Viki x