My Relationship with Fashion

https://video.wixstatic.com/video/625431_1a6a199624aa4ba4b52f4224413534ae/1080p/mp4/file.mp4

In frame- Brinda Girish Gowda and Saanchi Jain, videography- Saanvi Mohan, Editing- Brinda Girish Gowda

By- Brinda Girish Gowda

Two girls. Two different cultures. One shared feeling.

One grew up surrounded by the richness of South Indian textiles, silks that carried generations, gold that spoke louder than words, flowers that completed every look. The other was raised within the quiet elegance of Jain culture, modesty, simplicity, and an unspoken discipline reflected in every outfit. Both worlds were deeply rooted, deeply beautiful.

But growing up, neither of them saw it that way.

To them, it felt imposed. Expected. Repetitive. Something they didn’t choose, but were told to embody. Their identities, stitched together before they even had the chance to explore them. So they resisted, turning toward Western fashion. It felt freeing, detached, theirs. A space where they could experiment without history watching over them.

Denim replaced drapes. Minimalism replaced meaning. And for a while, that distance felt like independence.

But time has a way of reshaping perspective.

As they grew older, what once felt forced began to feel intentional. They started noticing the craftsmanship in a saree, the philosophy behind modest dressing, the power of adornments like bindis, nose rings, or even the absence of excess. They realized their cultures weren’t limiting them — they were offering them a foundation.

A language.

A legacy.

Now, when they look at fashion, they don’t see opposition between cultures — they see dialogue. Their South Indian silks and Jain simplicity don’t clash with Western influences; they coexist, evolve, and redefine what personal style means.

What they once rejected, they now reinterpret.

What once felt imposed, now feels chosen.

And somewhere between unlearning and rediscovery, they didn’t just find their style —

they found themselves.