Caring for Indian Clothes Abroad: Storage, Cleaning and Surviving a Dry Winter

The problem with owning Indian clothes outside India is not buying them. It is the four years afterwards. In India there is always a tailor, always someone who knows how to clean zardozi, and a climate the garments were designed for. In a flat in Manchester or a condo in Calgary there is a dry cleaner who has never seen dabka work, a wardrobe next to a radiator, and a saree that came out of its bag in September with a line of rust-coloured dots across the pallu.

This is a guide to keeping the pieces alive. Our general guide to storing and caring for Indian clothes covers the fundamentals; this one covers what changes when you are not in India.

The Cleaning Problem

Hand embroidery is not dry-clean-anywhere. Zardozi, dabka and marodi use metal-wrapped thread that tarnishes and can be crushed flat by a press. Cutdana, sequins and beads are stitched on and can be melted by heat or stripped by aggressive solvent. Gota is folded metallic ribbon that discolours. A high-street chain that processes everything on one cycle will do damage, and it will not be reversible.

What to do instead:

• Find a specialist before you need one. In most cities with a South Asian population there is at least one dry cleaner who handles Indian occasion wear properly — usually in or near the shopping districts. Ask in the sari shops, not on a review site.
• Ask two specific questions. "Do you spot-clean around embroidery rather than full-immersion?" and "Do you press with a cover and from the reverse?" A cleaner who answers those confidently is the right one. A blank look is your answer.
• Clean far less often than you think. This is the single most useful habit. Most occasion wear needs airing, spot-cleaning and steaming — not dry cleaning. Every dry-clean cycle costs the garment something. Once every three or four wears, not every wear.
• Deal with stains yourself, immediately, gently. Blot, never rub, and never with hot water. Our guide to removing stains from Indian clothes covers the specific cases.
• Steam, do not iron. A handheld steamer held away from the fabric is the right tool for almost everything, and it is the one piece of equipment genuinely worth buying. Our steaming guide covers the technique.

The Climate Problem

Indian occasion textiles were made for a climate with warmth and moisture in the air. Most of the diaspora lives somewhere with neither, or with far too much of the second.

Central heating and dry winters

Forced-air heating in North America and radiators in northern Europe produce indoor humidity far below what silk is comfortable at. Silk becomes brittle, zari can crack at fold lines, and everything develops static. Keep garments away from radiators and heating vents entirely — not "not touching", but a different wall. If your flat runs very dry in winter, a humidifier in the room where the clothes live is a legitimate solution.

Damp flats and basement storage

The opposite problem, and the more destructive one. Damp produces mildew, which stains permanently, and it tarnishes metal thread fast. Never store occasion wear in a basement, a garage, or against an external wall in an older building. If you have no choice, silica gel sachets in the storage box, replaced twice a year.

Moths

Genuinely worse in temperate climates than in most of India, and they go for silk and wool. Cedar or lavender rather than naphthalene — mothballs leave an odour in silk that never fully comes out. Check stored pieces every few months rather than trusting a sachet you put in two years ago.

How to Actually Store Them

• Cotton or muslin, never plastic. Plastic garment bags and vacuum bags trap moisture and off-gas onto metal thread. The dry-cleaner's polythene comes off the moment it enters the house. An old cotton bedsheet works as well as anything sold for the purpose.
• Never hang a heavy lehenga or a worked saree long-term. The weight of the embroidery pulls on the fabric and distorts the garment at the shoulders or the waistband. Fold heavy pieces flat; hang only light, unworked ones.
• Refold along different lines once a year. Permanent creases become permanent weaknesses, and zari cracks exactly where it has been folded for three years. Take everything out annually, refold differently, put it back.
• Interleave with acid-free tissue. Particularly between embroidered surfaces, which will otherwise snag on each other. Cheap, and it is what a museum would do.
• Turn heavily embroidered pieces inside out before folding, so the worked surface is protected rather than rubbing against the box.
• Store dupattas flat, rolled if you can. Organza in particular takes a fold and keeps it.

Our guide to packing and preserving a trousseau goes further on the long-term end of this, which is the same problem at a larger scale.

The pieces that most need this treatment are the ones with metal thread and heavy surface work. The Bano moonga zari silk saree with Siya blouse in ivory, with fine sequin floral work and a rich gold border, is exactly the kind of garment that repays being stored properly and punishes being left in a plastic bag for two years.

Travelling With Them

Most people abroad fly with their good clothes at least once a year, and long-haul is harder on a garment than a season in the wardrobe.

• Hand luggage for the important piece. Not because of creasing — because of loss. A made-to-order lehenga cannot be replaced in the three days before a wedding.
• Roll rather than fold where the fabric allows, and pad the folds you cannot avoid with tissue or a soft garment.
• Turn embroidered surfaces inward. Abrasion inside a suitcase is what takes sequins off, not the folding.
• Hang it the moment you arrive in a steamy bathroom. Most travel creasing drops out in an hour.
• Carry a small repair kit. Matching thread, a needle, safety pins and a few spare sequins if the piece came with them. You will not find a tailor at 9pm the night before.

Our guides to packing Indian clothes for travel and packing for a destination wedding cover this in more detail.

The Alteration Problem, and Why Fit Matters More Abroad

The hardest thing to replace outside India is not the garment. It is the tailor. Heavily embroidered pieces cannot be altered cleanly — you cannot take in a bodice through a dense zardozi panel without disturbing the work — and the handful of people in any Western city who can do it properly are booked out through wedding season.

Which is the practical argument for buying made-to-measure when you live abroad, rather than buying ready-made and planning to alter. Everything we make is cut to your measurements at no extra charge — send them on WhatsApp before ordering — and hand-embroidered in Jaipur over four to five weeks. The honest caveat is that because every piece is made for one order there is no off-the-rack exchange, which is precisely why the measurements conversation happens first. Our guide to measuring yourself properly is the place to start.

Frequently Asked Questions