Gotapatti, As I See It
Gotapatti is not something I add at the end of a garment.
It is something I decide before anything else begins.
When I choose to work with gotapatti embroidery, I am choosing slowness. I am choosing uncertainty. I am choosing a process that does not always behave the same way twice. And I am completely at peace with that.
Because gotapatti, in its truest form, was never meant to be controlled.
Rooted in Rajasthan and shaped over generations in Jaipur, gotapatti embroidery was once created using real gold and silver ribbons, carefully cut and applied by hand. While materials have evolved with time, the essence of the craft has not. Authentic gotapatti is still entirely hand-embroidered, still guided by the artisan’s hand rather than a machine.
That is where its beauty lives.
Why I Believe Hand-Done Gotapatti Matters
I have seen machine-made versions of gotapatti. They are neat, shiny, and fast. They also feel empty.
Hand-embroidered gotapatti behaves differently. It bends instead of snapping into place. It reflects light unevenly. It carries small variations that no machine can replicate. Each motif reveals decisions made in real time — how tightly to fold the ribbon, how softly to curve it, when to pause.
These details are not flaws.
They are evidence.
To me, gotapatti embroidery should feel human before it feels decorative.
The Cost of Time — and Why I Accept It
Hand embroidery is slow by nature. A single border can take hours. A dupatta can take days. There are moments when choosing gotapatti feels impractical — especially in a world that values speed and volume.
But I have learned this: when you rush gotapatti, it loses its depth. Machines flatten the ribbon, remove its movement, and reduce it to surface shine. What remains may look similar, but it no longer feels alive.
I would rather make fewer pieces than compromise the process.
Jaipur and the Quiet Discipline of Craft
Jaipur holds this craft with restraint. Gotapatti here is not taught formally; it is absorbed. Artisans learn by watching, repeating, and refining over years. The hand learns before the mind does.
This is why authentic Jaipur gotapatti does not chase trends. It does not belong to a season. It belongs to time.
That permanence is something I deeply respect — and try to protect through my work.
How I Like to Use Gotapatti
I am drawn to restraint.
For me, gotapatti does not need to announce itself loudly each time. A subtle neckline detail. A softly embroidered cuff. A border that catches light only when it moves.
Used thoughtfully, gotapatti embroidery becomes timeless rather than festive. It becomes something you return to, not something you store away after one occasion.
This is the kind of gotapatti I believe in — wearable, enduring, and unmistakably confident.
I work exclusively with hand-embroidered gotapatti, without machines, because the integrity of the craft matters to me as much as the final garment.
Every piece carries the rhythm of its making — the pauses, the repetition, the patience. I do not aim to produce quickly or excessively. I aim to produce honestly.
Gotapatti, to me, is not an embellishment.
It is a reminder.
That some things are worth doing slowly.
And worth keeping for a long time.