woman wearing I was a Sari clothing standing near a big pile of textile waste

We call ourselves Zero-waste. But is I was a Sari truly zero waste ?

There is something quite radical about calling oneself zero-waste.  Zero-waste is a powerful phrase – it literally means that a brand does not create any waste. Is this even possible? To be a company with supply chains, manufacturing and global operations to be actually creating no waste? So when a Mumbai-Milan-born brand called I was a Sari comes along and plants zero-waste as a core principle, it feels almost incredulous, doesn’t it?

So is I was a Sari authentic about this fact or is it greenwashing, a term often attributed to players in the fashion industry using euphemisms to cover up messy truths? Let’s get down to it – let’s get down to the whole process behind what I was a Sari does and how it stands up to its claim of turning waste to value.

The Sari itself:  6 yards of continuous fabric, no off-cuts, no patterns, no leftover scraps. Considered one of the few zero-waste garments to be produced, it’s interesting that I was a Sari’s entire model is based off post-consumer saris. Like every other garment in the fashion industry, the sari also suffers from excess production. With millions of saris produced and circulated across generations in India, the category holds immense cultural value and accounts for over 30% of India’s women’s apparel. Yet much of it remains underused. With that comes a massive number of saris that get discarded. This is where I was a Sari steps in – and gives the preloved and discarded sari a second chance to extend its lifecycle.

preloved saris waiting to be upcycled

What I was a Sari actually does: Founded in Mumbai in 2012, I was a Sari noticed a vast second-hand sari market that few in sustainable fashion were paying attention to. Preloved saris, worn down, outgrown, or simply replaced by newer ones were circulating in bazaars and markets, but much of this fabric was heading nowhere particularly good.

The brand runs on two basic tenets: that fashion can be more respectful to the planet, and that it can be more respectful to the people within the industry. Practically, this means collecting pre-loved saris from Mumbai's resale markets and upcycling them into bags, clothing, jewelry, and accessories, a circular fashion model that, at the same time, functions as a social enterprise transforming disadvantaged women into skilled, economically independent artisans. 

How much of a sari is actually usable?  It is not an easy task to work with preloved materials, as by design, it would be ridden with certain defects – rips, stains, what not – and therefore the actual usable portion a second-hand sari is not the 6 full yards. A rigorous 5 step quality control process at every stage of the sari passing through the production process ensures that these defects are not reflected in the final products that the consumers see and experience.  So far, so good. But here is where the zero-waste claim gets genuinely interesting and also complicated.

Of a preloved sari, only about three meters (3.3 yards) is realistically useable to generate a new garment. The rest such as borders, heavily worn sections, frayed edges typically presents a problem. And here is where I was a Sari truly embodies the zero-waste principle. Smaller off-cuts of the balance of the sari typically go into production of smaller products. Think scarves, bandanas, even pouches. The remnants after this second level use, as we call chindi in Hindi, like the decorative borders of saris, are redesigned into smaller products like pleated earrings and jewelry. Even the smallest pieces of cloth that cannot be used to make earrings are utilized as fringes for their fringed bag collection instead.  Go smaller still, and there's a partnership with Goonj wherein leftover cloth is used to make sanitary napkins for rural women. Once I was a Sari is through with a preloved sari – there is truly very miniscule portion of this which actually becomes waste. It is typically so marginal that it wouldn’t count as fashion waste.

artisan at her quality checking desk at I was a Sari

But does this make it truly zero-waste? That depends on how strictly you define the term. True zero is almost never achievable in manufacturing. Despite all our processes, like we mentioned – we do generate some waste in production, logistics, ecommerce, administrative work, housekeeping. Paper, plastic, fabric waste does creep into our operations. So if "truly" means achieving a perfect closed loop with no waste, no emissions, and no compromises anywhere in the chain, then I was a Sari is not there yet. That kind of a brand doesn't exist yet.

Where I was a Sari gets it right:  But here is the more important question: is I was a Sari doing something meaningfully better than the alternative? Almost certainly yes. Is it trying to constantly review and reinvent its processes to minimize waste? Absolutely yes. Does it include sustainability KPIs in its personnel appraisal? Yes, in order to encourage the team to always think about our core zero-waste principle. It urges the people to work within the boundaries of useable material, with teams finding new ways to use smaller and smaller leftover materials to ensure no scrap goes to waste; to switch entirely from plastic packaging to 100% paper packaging; and so on and so forth.

Zero-waste isn't a certificate. It's our commitment to asking the question again and again: what do we do with what's left? By that measure, we feel we are asking the right questions, and finding some good answers.

 

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