Is the messiah complex misleading sustainable brands?

Reimagining age-old craft traditions, handwoven Kinnauri stoles, artisanal tote bags, saris from the Bhagyanagar cluster!

These are just some of the heart-tugging stories emerging on our Instagram pages every day. At least a few people in each major city are working with artisans directly (or with middle men/women who have access) and creating a business of packaging and selling them online.

But if you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all. If you have ever clicked on one such page, you’ll know what I’m talking about. It’s difficult to distinguish one such authentic, craft-reviving, artisanal brand from the other.

Now, don’t get me wrong. Each Jamdani kurta, each Eri silk sari is beautiful. Painfully, so.

The stories are powerful – purpose-driven brands that are reviving dying craft clusters in India; connecting underserved artisans with consumers and global markets through the power of Instagram.

The products are all gorgeous – natural fibres, plant-based dyes, made by happy hands, a beaming artisan next to the product. What’s not to like?

The founders are all desperately sincere, each one talks the same language - Empowering whole villages, creating sustainable livelihoods, rescuing Indian crafts and tradition via design interventions and market access. They know their motifs, fabrics, crafts, their wefts, warps and weaves.

More than 60% of these founders, if not more, are women. Whether by serendipity or by choice, these brave women have taken up the tough problems.

Trying to save these crafts for future generations.

Trying to revive dying arts.

Trying to build businesses that are kind to the planet.

Why then have the climate-anxious and sustainability minded not heard of Bunavat Weaves, or Oziss, or TurnBlack? Are these brands destined to be regional brands, with a small loyal following, and the founders struggling to feed their supply-chain and fight the Instagram algorithm every day?

Too Much Love Will Kill you?

(or Is it a case of Love is Blind?)

These founders have made a leap of faith, in love with the craft, passionate about their mission, desperate to make a difference, to save a dying art. But is this messiah complex preventing them from taking the tough decisions needed to build a brand, to make these businesses so successful that they actually make an outsized impact?

The answer lies not in their passion being misguided, but in the very authenticity that makes them so similar.

In a country so culturally rich and diverse, craft purity and heritage are common to all. Where is the differentiation? Are they targeting the right audience? What about pricing? What about positioning? What about consumer behaviour 101?

Is there more of an authenticity story to be told?

Sustainable fashion inevitably costs more, and perhaps noble intentions collide with harsh economic realities. When a handwoven Ajrakh kurta costs ₹4,000 and a similar-looking printed version costs ₹400, the choice becomes painfully obvious.

If the target is Gen Z then are we being overly simplistic in clubbing a whole generation into one giant segment? What if there are there two separate types of Gen-Z’s: the tree huggers and the don’t-really-wanna-know-about-the trees as long as I get the new face serum touted by my favourite celebrity?

Should Sustainable Brands start targeting the older demographic who is willing to spend a little extra for a kinder product?

Perhaps the real blindness isn't in the founders' passion, but in their assumption that good intentions and beautiful products automatically translate to market success. With the rose-tinted glasses of first love they've made the leap, but haven't cracked the code of accessibility. They speak the language of sustainability but perhaps also need to speak the language of consumer traction.

The sustainable craft revival movement in India stands at a crossroads. These founders can either remain custodians of an exclusive aesthetic - beautiful, meaningful, but ultimately unhelpful to the art & artisans they claim to serve - or they can reimagine their approach entirely.

The question isn't whether their hearts are in the right place, but whether their business models can bridge the gap between purpose, practicality and eventually, profits for all.

Disclaimer: The views expressed here are solely those of the author and do not in any way represent the views of exchange4media.com.