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

(Featured image source: Shutterstock (L); Hindustan Times (R) Both images used for representational purposes only.)

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 often 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.

By the early 1900s, the call of Swadeshi (self-reliance) was transforming this domestic craft into citizen action. Choosing local cloth became a statement of purpose, as the wheel moved from verandahs to public squares and came to stand for dignity, thrift, and shared resolve.

M K Gandhi placed spinning at the heart of daily life, drawing on that growing momentum. 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.

As this sense of duty deepened, organisation followed. 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 was now a national programme of work and pride.

The symbolism soon extended to the nation’s colours. In 1921, a proposed flag carried a spinning wheel at its centre. By 15 August 1947, the Ashoka Chakra replaced the charkha on the national flag, but 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, however, rapid industrialisation, urban migration, and the spread of synthetics reshaped wardrobes and reduced the daily use of khadi. To steady rural livelihoods, the Khadi and Village Industries Commission was set up in 1957, replacing an earlier national board. Support grew over time — in 1977, a credit scheme allowed registered units to access bank working capital at four percent, with the Commission covering the interest gap.

Price backing also adapted with changing markets. What began as a long-running sales rebate evolved into Market Development Assistance (MDA) in 2010, which was later adjusted to Modified MDA. By 2021, the policy shifted again to focus on production, ensuring a larger share flowed directly to spinners and weavers for quality work.

Public campaigns added fresh energy. Banners like Khadi for Nation and Khadi for Fashion, alongside Khadi Mahotsav (khadi festivals) in cities and Khadi India showcases at Lakmé Fashion Week x FDCI, reframed the fabric for younger buyers.

Retail followed this momentum. Khadi product sales rose steadily from about Rs 2,000 crore in 2016–17 to over Rs 3,200 crore in 2018–19. Even through recent shocks, resilience showed: khadi fabric sales crossed Rs 5,000 crore by 2021–22 and continued to climb 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. Buyers who value knowing where their clothes come from, how they are dyed, and who makes them can find all of that in khadi. Many brands now highlight the makers, the dyeing process, and care tips, while celebrities and magazines have helped make khadi feel both credible and fashionable.

“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 fresh 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 highlights Rajesh Pratap Singh’s experiments and notes how new blends now sit easily in bridal and ceremonial wear. Mishra adds that Indian designers are pushing khadi into new silhouettes — from anti-fit tunics and roomy jumpsuits to structured kaftans and shorts — with lighter weaves that feel seasonless and modern.

On the runway, Rajesh Pratap Singh’s Lakmé Fashion Week x FDCI show stood out for resin-coated khadi jackets with suture seams and stainless-steel elements — a bold mix 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 contemporary wardrobes, while labels like 11.11 centre entire collections on handspun cloth, natural dyes, and small-batch making.

Challenges on the loom

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. Mishra foresees continued innovation that adds engineered finishes and metal elements without losing the handspun core. Yet, for this future to be sustainable, the pathway must remain viable.

One challenge is the workforce. Skilled hands are ageing, and fewer young people are choosing full-time handloom work. Field surveys highlight low and uneven earnings, along with a thinning pipeline of spinners, dyers, and weavers. To address this, the SFURTI scheme (Scheme of Fund for Regeneration of Traditional Industries) provides common facilities, upgraded tools, design inputs, and market linkages so orders feel steady rather than seasonal.

Price is another hurdle. Because khadi is labour-intensive, its unit costs sit higher than many mill-made fabrics. Market studies for the Khadi and Village Industries Commission suggest that stronger product development, quality systems, and consistent branding could help bridge this gap and attract premium buyers willing to pay fair margins.

Underlying it all is trust. The Khadi Mark Regulations, 2013, require accredited labs to test fabric before a Khadi Mark tag is applied, confirming that the cloth is handspun and handwoven from natural fibre. This assurance of provenance protects artisan value and helps labels tell honest product stories.

Opportunities on the horizon

Access, too, has widened. The Khadi India e-portal, launched in 2020, offers a national shopfront, while city stores and pop-ups give buyers the chance to try garments in person. With the growth of social commerce, small producers can now connect directly with customers, share care guides, and learn which silhouettes resonate.

Consistent standards keep these promises intact. Reliable testing and finishing allow khadi to meet premium and export benchmarks. For wearers, this translates into garments with a dependable fit, colourfast natural dyes, and fabric that holds its shape after repeated wash and wear.

Design continues to pull the fabric forward. International exhibitions, fair-trade pathways, and overseas collaborations could position khadi alongside heritage icons such as Scottish tweed or Japanese denim. Natural dye research, blends with silk, wool, or linen, and innovative finishes show how handspun texture can sit comfortably with contemporary structure. Studios that work closely with artisan partners are shaping silhouettes that feel modern while keeping the soul of the weave intact.

Through recent shocks, the sector has shown resilience. Official updates track khadi and village-industry sales rising on the back of 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.

Edited by Khushi Arora