From Ashrams to Instagram: Khadi’s Bold Journey to a Rs 5000 Cr Market & Global Runways

On a crisp winter evening in New Delhi, the runway lights dim. A model strides out in a sharply tailored, resin-coated khadi (handspun, handwoven cloth) jacket, its earthy tone lifted by fine seam work. Diplomats, designers and young influencers lean in. A fabric born in the freedom struggle holds the room.

Thousands of kilometres away, in a village in Gujarat, an elderly weaver bends over her charkha (spinning wheel). Cotton twists into yarn under practised hands. The wheel creaks, the air smells of raw fibre, and a neat stack of thread grows.

A single thread links these rooms. It carries memory, dignity and work. Campaigns and fashion councils have brought khadi back into the light, and designers now test its edges on India’s biggest stages. Global audiences are paying attention to this craft-rich, low-impact fabric. To understand why this cloth still moves a room, it helps to return to where its thread first gathered strength.

Spinning a nation awake

In village courtyards, evenings ended with the soft whirr of the charkha. From that rhythm came khadi, rooted in khaddar (coarse handspun cloth) that many families knew by touch.

In the early 1900s, the call of Swadeshi (self-reliance) turned this domestic craft into citizen action. People chose local cloth. The wheel moved from verandahs to public squares and came to stand for dignity, thrift and shared purpose.

M K Gandhi placed spinning at the heart of daily life. He urged people to spend part of each day at the wheel, seeing it as work that could support families, strengthen communities, and instil self-respect and discipline.

Organisation followed feeling. In 1925, the All India Spinners’ Association was formed to support spinners and weavers, stabilise supply and keep incomes in rural hands. A household skill became a national programme of work and pride.

The symbol travelled onto the nation’s colours. In 1921, a proposed flag carried a spinning wheel at its centre. On 15 August 1947, the Ashoka Chakra replaced the charkha on the national flag, and the link between cloth, citizenship and self-reliance had already taken root.

Fashion weeks meet village yarn

At a city khadi store, a student lifts a slubby cotton jacket to the light. Across town, a small unit presses shirts for a design-school pop-up. The same handspun fabric now moves through fitting rooms, studio racks and runway rehearsals.

 After Independence, rapid industrialisation, urban migration and the spread of synthetics shifted wardrobes and undercut daily use of khadi. To steady livelihoods, the Khadi and Village Industries Commission was set up in 1957, replacing an earlier national board. Credit followed in 1977 through the Interest Subsidy Eligibility Certificate scheme, which gave registered units bank working capital at 4 per cent, with the Commission bearing the difference.

Price support evolved with markets. A long-running sales rebate later became Market Development Assistance in 2010, then Modified MDA. In 2021, the policy shifted to MDA on production so that a larger share flowed directly to spinners and weavers for quality work.

Campaigns reframed the story for younger buyers under Khadi for Nation, Khadi for Fashion, with Khadi Mahotsav (Khadi festival) city activations and Khadi India presentations at Lakmé Fashion Week x FDCI. 

Retail gathered pace. Khadi product sales rose steadily from about Rs 2,000 crore in 2016–17 to over Rs 3,200 crore in 2018–19. Despite recent shocks, resilience showed, with khadi fabric sales crossing Rs 5,000 crore by 2021–22 and continuing to grow in 2022–23.

Why khadi speaks to today’s India

On a sticky summer commute, a young professional reaches for a handspun shirt. The weave lets air through, soft on heat-tired skin. That instinctive reach explains why many buyers are returning to khadi.

Sustainability leads the list. Handspun and handwoven mean lower energy use and fewer power-heavy processes. Each metre carries more human labour than machine time, supporting rural livelihoods and keeping value closer to artisan homes.

Comfort seals the choice. Cotton khadi breathes, absorbs moisture and feels cool in summer yet comfortable in milder winters. In tropical weather, airflow and softness matter as much as the cut. The fabric settles to the body and eases with wear, which is why a favourite shirt often feels better with time.

Provenance adds pride. Shoppers who care about traceable making, natural dyes and small-batch craft find those cues in khadi. Many labels now share maker stories, dye notes and care instructions that honour the people behind the fabric, and celebrity wardrobes and high-profile magazine spreads have amplified the shift toward craft with credibility.

“It’s organic, breathable and timeless,” says fashion journalist Manish Mishra. He adds that today’s fashion values make investing in khadi a clear, eco-conscious choice.

Runway experiments in khadi

Backstage at a fashion week finale, pattern cutters smooth a resin-slick jacket while a stylist checks a handspun skirt. When the lights rise, khadi steps out with new confidence, shaped by designers who study fibre, fit, finish and history.

“In the hands of visionary designers, khadi has broken free from its old-fashioned image,” says fashion journalist Manish Mishra. He points to Rajesh Pratap Singh’s experiments and notes that new blends now sit comfortably in bridal and ceremonial wear. Mishra adds that Indian designers have reimagined khadi across silhouettes, from anti-fit tunics and roomy jumpsuits to structured kaftans and shorts, with lightweight blends that feel seasonless and trend-neutral.

On the runway, Rajesh Pratap Singh’s Lakmé Fashion Week x FDCI show drew headlines for resin-coated khadi jackets with suture seams and stainless-steel elements — a meeting of engineered structure and handspun texture that caught the light and held the line.

Designers such as Rajesh Pratap Singh and Abraham & Thakore have expanded the vocabulary of khadi for urban wardrobes, while labels like 11.11 build collections around handspun cloth, natural dyes and small-batch making.

What the next decade can spin

In a dye room scented with indigo and myrobalan, a young designer lifts handspun cotton to the light while a weaver checks the handle. This shared bench of craft and design is where khadi finds its next chapter. 

The interest is real, and Mishra sees continued innovation that keeps engineered finishes and metal elements without losing the handspun core, but the pathway needs to feel viable.

Skilled hands are ageing, and fewer young people enter full-time handloom work. Field surveys flag low, uneven earnings and a thinner pipeline of spinners, dyers and weavers. Under the SFURTI scheme (Scheme of Fund for Regeneration of Traditional Industries), traditional producers, including khadi units, gain common facilities, upgraded tools, design inputs and market linkages so orders feel steady, not seasonal.

Price is a hurdle. Khadi is labour-intensive, so unit costs sit above many mill-made fabrics. Market studies prepared for the Khadi and Village Industries Commission point to stronger product development, quality systems and consistent branding as the bridge to premium buyers who will pay fair margins.

Trust sits at the centre. The Khadi Mark Regulations, 2013 require accredited labs to test fabric before a Khadi Mark tag goes on, confirming cloth that is handspun and handwoven from natural fibre. Clear provenance protects artisan value and helps labels tell honest product stories.

Reach grows with a click. The Khadi India e-portal, launched in 2020, offers a national shopfront, while city stores and pop-ups add try-ons and fit help. As social commerce expands, small producers meet buyers directly, share care guides and learn which silhouettes work.

Standards keep the promise. Consistent testing and finishing let khadi meet premium and export bars. For the wearer, that means reliable fit, colourfast natural dyes and fabric that holds its shape after wash and wear.

Design pulls the fabric forward, and international exhibitions, fair-trade pathways and overseas collaborations can position khadi alongside heritage icons like Scottish tweed or Japanese denim.

Natural dye research, blends with silk, wool or linen, and innovative finishes show how handspun texture can sit with contemporary structure. Studios that work closely with artisan partners shape silhouettes that feel modern while keeping the soul of the weave.

Through recent shocks, the sector has shown resilience. Official updates track khadi and village-industry sales rising on stronger retail and product diversity. Pride is rising too among young buyers who seek out homegrown Indian labels. “Khadi today is of the moment and impossibly relevant,” says Mishra.

Why this handspun story lives on

Back on the New Delhi runway, the show closes. A flowing khadi gown in soft ivory moves under the lights, paired with handcrafted silver jewellery. The model pauses. Cameras click.

From spinning wheels to global catwalks, khadi has come full circle. It stands against environmental damage, sameness and throwaway fashion. It carries pride for weavers in small villages and for designers in busy studios.

In a world of marks, metrics and mass production, khadi offers something slower, richer and human. Worn as a jacket in Milan, a draped sari in Mumbai or a tunic in London, it remains what it has always been: a fabric with intent.

The lights dim again, and somewhere a wheel begins to turn.