“Jaipur's finest hand-work was being sold at the price of its worst.”
1998. A rented room barely 200 square feet, up a narrow staircase off Kishanpole Bazaar. Sanjay had grown up in the trade — running cloth between the dyers of Sanganer and the traders of Johari Bazaar since he was a boy. He had no capital. He had a pile of leheriya odhnis dyed for that year's Teej, and the conviction that Jaipur's finest hand-work was being sold at the price of its worst.
The name came from the craft. Leheriya is dyed in the open — cloth twisted, tied, hung under a hard Rajasthani sun until the colour sets. Gold from the sun, indigo from the sky. Sunsky.
For seven years the house sold only to shops. A store would sell a Sunsky lehenga and the bride would never learn whose hands had made it. That sat badly, and it sat badly for a long time.
So Sanjay built his own workshop in Sanganer — karigars paid by the piece, and paid through the off-season too. Some of those families are still here. On a few pieces today, the grandfather set the first line of zardozi and the grandson finished the border.
Two hundred square feet, up a narrow staircase. No capital — a pile of leheriya odhnis dyed for that year's Teej, and a conviction.
Two hundred square feet, up a narrow staircase. No capital — a pile of leheriya odhnis dyed for that year's Teej, and a conviction.
After seven years of selling only to shops, the house began making under its own roof. Karigars paid by the piece, and paid through the off-season too.
After seven years of selling only to shops, the house began making under its own roof. Karigars paid by the piece, and paid through the off-season too.
Chosen over the old bazaars because a wedding lehenga is decided over three or four visits, not one — and Raja Park is where families come back to.
Chosen over the old bazaars because a wedding lehenga is decided over three or four visits, not one — and Raja Park is where families come back to.
Brides who bought here in 2018 are already returning — for a sister, a daughter, an anniversary. That is what the house measures itself by.
Brides who bought here in 2018 are already returning — for a sister, a daughter, an anniversary. That is what the house measures itself by.
300–600
A full bridal lehenga takes three to six hundred hours of hand-work. There is no faster way to do it properly, so we do not look for one.
Every piece
Nothing leaves the workshop the family hasn't seen finished. It is the last check, and it has never been delegated.
Off-season too
Our artisans are paid by the piece, and paid when the orders are thin. Some of those families have been with the house since Sanganer.
Cloth twisted, tied and hung under a hard Rajasthani sun until the colour sets. The craft the house was named for, and the one it still begins with.
Metal thread laid stitch by stitch. On a few pieces the grandfather set the first line and the grandson finished the border.
Paid by the piece and through the off-season. The workshop in Sanganer is ours, and so is the responsibility for the people in it.
A wedding lehenga is decided over three or four visits, not one. Come and take your time — or send us a note first.
