Somehow I reached the final week of CraftHER. It's strange to think that six weeks passed so quickly since this journey began. Towards the end, I had a full realisation of all the ways I've grown, all the ways I was challenged, and all the laughter.
After evacuating from our previous accommodation due to floods, we checked into a hotel back in Kochi.
This was a visceral reminder of the time that had passed; it was now five weeks since we first landed in Kochi, with nervousness and anticipation.
And now, there was one final challenge before the programme would end and we would say our goodbyes.
Personal projects
For our final week, we were given three days to work on personal projects, with the fourth day dedicated to presenting our work and saying goodbyes.
For my personal project, I worked diligently on an ethical fashion brand - which I called "REN".
This was borne out of Confucian philosophy and its concept of "ren" as benevolence and humanity. The brand name reflected the business ethos - a consideration for humanity over individualist profit - rather than just being a name that sounded good.
As someone who loves design, I happily worked on a detailed branding kit. I designed the logo, brand colours, a Shopify website, the collection concepts, typography, favicons, social media posts - everything I possibly could was designed.
Adding to this, I worked on a pitch deck to show potential investors and showcase the brand, and a business plan with a more detailed insight into the vision, mission, pilot programme/next steps, and financial projections.
It was only the night before the presentation that I realised REN could never work.
Determination despite failure
It was only the night before that I received clothes back from the tailors. I had ordered five items - only one was as I had imagined. The rest were essentially unusable.
My fashion brand was designed around a fusion of modern Y2K silhouettes and East Asian inspired collars combined with traditional Indian fabrics. It was supposed to be trendy, effortlessly cool, and ethnically inspired.
I designed a bodycon dress and I received a long, ill fitting top. I designed a top and I received a poorly designed puzzle that was a mystery to get on and off. I designed a crop top with a mandarin collar and received a top seemingly designed around a child's measurements. I designed a mini skirt and received a skirt that did not even cover the bare essentials.
The only design that came out perfect was a long, shaped mermaid skirt.
Making matters infinitely worse, I received the tailored items the night before my presentation, with only the mermaid skirt prototype ready for show.
At this point, I found my confidence in pitching diminishing as I realised that such a clothing brand, with the intricate designs I had in mind, might not be possible with the skill level of local tailors.
At the point of presenting, I stumbled over my words. My confidence had dropped and I couldn't understand the purpose of presenting a brand that could never work.
Asha gave me the break I desperately needed and I went back to the drawing board.
It was then that I realised that it didn't matter.
It didn't matter whether the brand or design was perfect. In three days, it was unlikely to be.
I had encountered a roadblock, but that didn't have to mean my work was for nothing.
I hadn't planned to launch a working brand, I only wanted to design a starting point.
And I had. In three days, I had all the starting points of a brand: a vision, a concept, and a direction.
That afternoon, I presented REN as it was: an idea, with some challenges that needed resolving before it was ready to be operational. I identified those bottlenecks as production challenges due to scarcity of skilled local tailors, and, more broadly, a need to reconsider REN's positioning.
While I aspired for the brand to be both sustainable and ethical, three days had made clear that I couldn't have both at full intensity yet. One path was to simplify the designs and focus on employing local women, prioritising income opportunities over intricacy. The other was to keep the ambitious designs, but focus on building a circular supply chain rather than an employment-first model. Neither path was wrong - but choosing between them, rather than trying to hold both, was the real lesson REN taught me.
Thank you, CraftHER
Before CraftHER began, Asha asked us to write letters to ourselves for after the programme. In mine, I wondered whether I would use my creativity, create an impact, and have meaningful experiences.
I can now confidently say I have accomplished everything I wanted to during the programme.
REN turned out to be the whole six weeks in miniature: it was in the moments of challenge, like with REN, that I learned what perseverance truly means.
It isn't about perfection. It's about what one chooses to do when confronted with the imperfect messiness of life.
I could have lost confidence and fallen to self doubt. But instead, I identified a roadblock with an awareness that it could be overcome.
If anything, that is what I have gained from CraftHER: an unwavering self belief amidst challenges.
And I have Asha, Durga, Preetha, my fellow scholars, and everyone else to thank for this journey.
It's not easy to say goodbye, but goodbye doesn't mean forever. The memories will live on, and I can't shake the feeling that I will cross paths with everyone again, someday.