The studio opens at eight, before the heat. The first hour is the quietest and, by some distance, the most careful. It is when fabric gets cut, and a cut is the one decision in the whole process that cannot be walked back.
The cutting table
Everything begins here. Bolts are laid out flat and left to settle overnight, because fabric that has been rolled will shift by a few millimetres as it relaxes, and a few millimetres at the shoulder becomes a visible fault at the hem. Patterns are weighted, chalked and checked twice before scissors touch anything.
Tracing
Alongside it are the tracing sheets, with motifs perforated by hand, chalk pushed through the holes, and a faint outline appearing on the cloth. From a distance it looks like nothing at all. Up close it is the entire map of the finished garment.
The frames
Past the cutting table, the aari frames. Fabric stretched drum-tight, karigars working from below, the hooked needle moving in a rhythm you can hear from the door. There is no music in this room and very little conversation. The work sets its own pace.
Finishing
At the far end, construction and finishing: seams closed, linings set, hems weighted, and the final press. Every piece is checked against the order before it is folded. Measurements, motif placement, thread ends, fastenings.
It is a small room and a slow one. Roughly fifty pieces leave it in a month.