Down a rocky dirt road, about 10 miles north of Jodhpur, a field of okra, potatoes, and marigolds bakes in the autumn sun. Nearby, half a dozen women stand over metal basins, dipping lengths of raw silk and velvet into natural dyes colored with madder, rose petals, and indigo. A swath of rich ruby-brown fabric hangs on a drying line, lifting with the breeze, shimmering ombré as the light filters through. The women dip and toil, gold nose rings and bracelets flashing in the daylight. Two little girls pick through a small mountain of mustard-yellow marigolds. The blossoms smell spicy and wild.
Marigold and rose petals are scattered onto cloth in preparation for eco-printing, a process of making one-of-a-kind designs using plants’ natural pigments.
Photos by Michelle Heimerman
Here in the rural Indian village of Kali Beri, the artisans of Saheli Women are wrapping up a week’s work before Diwali, the Hindu festival of lights. When the women finish dipping, the leftover dyes, which contain nourishing Ayurvedic properties, will become fertilizer for the garden—its vegetables nutrition for the women, their families, and the larger village. This circularity is intentional: At Saheli, every flower petal, every puff of cotton seems bound for purpose in these women’s hands.
Driving out of Jodhpur, the scenery changes to semiarid farmland.
Photo by Michelle Heimerman
Saheli, which means “female friend” in Hindi, is a collective of women artisans who practice India’s ancient art of textile production. The workshops were founded by Jodhpur native Madhu Vaishnav in 2015 with $100 and five craftswomen in a one-room studio in the desert village of Bhikamkor, 50 miles north of the city, where Vaishnav ran a skills-training center out of her husband’s family home. Vaishnav, whose marriage contract discouraged her from working or continuing her education, defied expectations and attended a program for sustainable development at UC-Berkeley. There, she conceived of creating a company in which “women [would] have the equal chance to learn and earn money so they could earn respect in society and give a life to their children,” she says. Artisans in the collective, many of them Pakistani Hindus or Indian Muslims who have experienced religious persecution and extreme poverty, make the equivalent of $188 to $243 per month, or about 50 percent more than the average Indian textile worker is paid.
Designer Trishala Bhansali (in yellow), pictured here with Saheli Women founder Madhu Vaishnav, works closely with the collective as a production partner for her clothing company, Lekha.
Photos by Michelle Heimerman
Rajasthan has historically been known as a global center of textiles, but as a result of nearly two centuries of British colonial rule, machine looms became standard, replacing handmade fabrics that had long sustained the livelihoods of craftspeople. In the past 20 years, however, a revival has taken root in the state, supported in part by government initiatives. In Rajasthan, the language of fashion is expressed via block printing, patterns made by intricately carved blocks of wood dipped and stamped on fabric; zari embroidery done with fine silver or gold thread; kota doria, similar to organza; and handloomed textiles such as pattu, wool woven into bold patterns, and khadi, cotton cloth.
For her Lekha line, Bhansali works with the women of Saheli to create pieces such as bandhani tie-dyed dresses and coats made from pashmina shawls and other upcycled fabrics.
Photo by Michelle Heimerman
Today, 200 women are employed across the Kali Beri studio and the original workshop in Bhikamkor, which has become Saheli’s weaving center, where a recently planted cotton farm is the source for handloomed fabric. The collective is capable of full-cycle production, from making and sourcing fabrics to designing, dyeing, stitching, and creating clothing for its namesake label—and for a dozen or so designers around the globe.
Before dyeing, bandhani fabrics are gathered into many tiny, intricate knots—a process that can take up to a day.
Photos by Michelle Heimerman
Inside the Kali Beri studio, I am with Trishala Bhansali, founder and designer of the New Orleans–based clothing company Lekha, as she presents a red-and-gold brocade dress to the team, hoping the silhouette might be replicated for her winter collection. She then sits down with operations manager Jhansi Mangal to sift through stacks of saris that will be upcycled into silk pajama sets and sundresses. Bhansali, who visits Saheli several times a year, was one of the collective’s first partners and investors nearly a decade ago, part of her larger personal mission to support Indian artisans practicing traditional textile-making.
At Saheli, vegetable dyes for natural-fiber textiles are made using seasonal ingredients such as madder, marigold, indigo, and rose.
Photo by Michelle Heimerman
“The women at Saheli are family,” Bhansali says. “It’s [a feeling] Madhu has created. Her own energy for what she does is the same since the day I started coming.” After working through several of Bhansali’s new designs—a shimmering zari-brocade skirt, sari-silk sundresses, a cotton button-down—we eat on the floor of the studio, sharing tiffins of chana (chickpeas), aloo (potato) masala, and paratha, the flaky flatbread. Outside, the little girls—daughters of the artisans—flick a badminton birdie back and forth with fraying rackets. The Saheli workshops provide built-in education for the women’s children and for the women themselves: Many are learning math, literacy, and chemistry in addition to mastering their complex craft. Vaishnav is working to open a vocational school by early 2027.
For many Saheli artisans, gold accessories such as bangles and pajeb (ankle bracelets) are both an investment and a close-held manifestation of the profits of their labor.
Photos by Michelle Heimerman
Vaishnav tells me the story of Jyoti Harijan, an artisan from the Dalit caste who joined Saheli five years ago. “She is the first Dalit from all the village area to leave, to get an education,” Vaishnav says, noting that, in this society, many think a Dalit’s role is to “clean the floors and not think big.” But Harijan has grown into one of the collective’s most talented weavers, and when Saheli was honored at 2025’s Camera Moda Sustainable Fashion Awards in Milan, she joined Vaishnav at the events.
Jyoti Harijan helms the loom at Saheli’s Bhikamkor atelier.
Photo by Michelle Heimerman
“Her entire village community celebrated,” Vaishnav says. “When we invest in women, women invest in generational change. They change culture.”
How to Take This Trip
Saheli Women has five-day “Artisan Immersion” experiences for small groups that include workshop visits, lessons on craft and culture, meals with Vaishnav and the artisans, and homestays with local families. A day trip to the studios is also a possibility—get in touch through the website to book.
Saheli’s “Artisan Immersion” trips include visits to the weaving center in Bhikamkor (left) and the studio in Kali Beri, which focuses on dyeing and printing.
Photos by Michelle Heimerman
If you’re building Saheli into your own itinerary, make Jodhpur your base: The “Blue City” of Rajasthan, home to about 1.5 million people, has no shortage of historic places to stay. At the foot of the massive Mehrangarh Fort, Raas Jodhpur (from India’s boutique Raas Hotels group) integrates sandstone buildings once part of an 18th-century haveli (mansion). Umaid Bhawan Palace, a Taj hotel, occupies a lavish 1920s-era structure—still an official residence of the descendants of Jodhpur royals—with 26 acres of surrounding gardens. Ajit Bhawan was previously a royal residence, too; guests can choose between the standard accommodations or the tented rooms inspired by the camps of traveling royal parties. For those seeking a more urban experience, Daspan House, set in a century-old former home near the city center, has 18 quiet rooms and a rooftop pool.
