Many years ago, I overheard someone being dismissed as ‘One of life’s passengers’ and it haunted me. I wasn’t entirely sure what it meant, but nevertheless had a hunch that I might be a fellow commuter, swept along by life (albeit very contentedly). Based on this, I think it is fair to say that I might never have travelled to India had House & Garden not booked my ticket. Roll back to summer 2015 and I was settled in London having a happy time as the magazine’s decoration director, 10 years into my role and replete with all the useful – and useless –interiors knowledge I needed to do the job well. Unbeknownst to me, my dice were about to be scooped up and tossed in the air. I couldn’t have imagined the many ways my life would change as the result of that short work trip to Delhi.
I’d decided to tag on a few days in Jaipur and kind friends from the industry shared their address books of the best places to shop in the fabled Pink City. These conversations provided me with more than just a list: I had a strong sense that I was about to be thrilled out of my skin. Maybe it’s because the trip was so brief and jam-packed. All I know for sure is that, when I returned to London with multiple bags stuffed with goodies – and what was later to become a template for the first Daydress – I felt different. I had been creatively swept off my feet and was experiencing an unequivocal sense of: I need to do that again! So I did. A year and a half later, armed with scrapbooks and sketches, I took a three-month sabbatical from House & Garden and returned to Jaipur to knock out some frocks.
That first sample was stitched in an off-the-peg block print. It was a classic shirt-dress shape. Even in 2017, it was hard to find a block-printed dress that didn’t have 1970s kaftan DNA. I thought that I could design my own prints (much as I love traditional block prints, I wanted mine to have a different feeling) and make a few of these simple dresses to bring back to London and sell. Of course, good ideas are 10-a-penny – and then you have to make it happen. But, at this stage, there was no pressure. I wasn’t thinking Big Business: I was just imagining a fun little project that could tick away alongside my real job at House & Garden – and provide me with an excuse to return to India.
I have always loved colour and pattern-making, and block print is a beautiful medium for expressing both of these. I began by designing five simple prints, but it wasn’t plain sailing. I couldn’t make them as sophisticated as I wanted them to be – I didn’t have the skills or the know how. From the basics of dress construction to the technicalities of block print – let alone being in another country – I was not prepared for the challenges. What saved me was that I had started small and could learn incrementally without risk. I was propelled (and still am) by a determination to keep making a better product. Being in Jaipur – and the mental space a sabbatical allowed – was inspirational. There was a thrilling moment when I allowed myself to imagine doing this for a living. The feeling was over in a second, but it was interpreted by me as a loud and clear message: keep going! For anyone wanting to explore new ideas, I think there is a huge amount to be said for simply setting wheels in motion. For example, sending out a few exploratory emails won’t commit you to anything, but it will encourage a natural acceleration of your idea.
After four years of short trips back to Jaipur, which wiped out my holiday allowance, Daydress was pulling at the bit and it was crunch time. Then Covid sent us all home and I got used to not being in the office. I left the magazine in 2021 and here we are, a few thousand dresses later. When you read this, I’ll be on the farm outside Jaipur where I now spend half the year with my husband-to-be, whom I met in India. It was House & Garden that booked that flight, so perhaps this can also act as a belated thank-you letter for what has been the happiest of adventures.
