When I was 18 years old, I wanted to tell stories, write and produce powerful media. More importantly, I wanted to be heard, seen in a certain light. My mother has been devoted to the craft of designing clothes for almost two decades; in gauging our differences, I forgot my roots are merely borrowed. Free will is a nice concept, in my case it simply didn't hold. I would envy her ability to disappear during sampling days, I couldn't access this place that was gatekept for artists. When all her competitors abandoned linen to cater to the price sensitive market i.e. India, she flaunted her consistency of character. It wasn't stubborn, she was reclaiming being a connoisseur of taste. I was fascinated, continue to be.

A know how of good silhoutte is rarer than you think - it's stemming from the gaping knowledge of the Indian body type or simply an oversight in its appreciation. Media can lament a trend and a herd is meant to live up to its reputation - it's a survival instict. I didn't want to dress like the others, I didn't look like them and when I did something right, I found that I could look bewitching. It became an armour, a closeted magic trick before I went somewhere - power signalling. Not being muddied in the stale trends, looking distinct, even exerting a bit of gravitas. A wardrobe bleached of colors spunked with collars, the size of my collar bones - I knew something that the person next to me didn't. The principles of design were spells that I could perform. I did enough and in doing enough, I repeat, I looked bewitching. It was staring at me, this willow I took shade in that in my doing less, I was doing more. In the absence of knowledge of the herd, you can walk an enjoyable trail of self discovery. This forms the ethos of all my creative projects.

— Mehak Kanani