Vino Supraja: Championing sustainable fashion and Tamil heritage on global stages

In a world where fashion often churns out fleeting trends and mindless consumption, Vino Supraja stands as a beacon of hope—a trailblazer reimagining the way we approach style. Honoured as the Global Sustainable Fashion Trailblazer at the British Parliament’s House of Commons, Vino’s journey has been nothing short of transformative. From her roots in Chennai to stages at global fashion capitals like London and New York, she has carved a niche by blending ancient Tamil heritage with forward-thinking sustainability.

With accolades from the UK Government and the World Tamil Organisation, her work is a testament to the power of fashion as both a creative and cultural platform. A champion of artisan empowerment, Vino has used her collections to showcase India’s rich artisanal heritage, most notably the Purisai Therukoothu, an ancient Tamil folk art, which she brought to life at London Fashion Week. Through her visionary approach, she’s not just redefining the modern fashion landscape; she’s telling stories, honouring craftsmanship, and building a sustainable future for the industry.

In this exclusive cover story, we explore the philosophy, challenges, and triumphs behind Vino Supraja’s rise as a global advocate for sustainable fashion, artisan preservation, and cultural storytelling.

Q: Can you share what first inspired you to pursue a career in fashion, particularly with a focus on sustainability and cultural storytelling?

A: To be honest, my career in fashion wasn’t something I planned. I had a long and fulfilling journey in television and radio as a host and RJ in Chennai. But life had other plans—it took me to China. The language barrier made it difficult to continue my media career, and among the few English-taught courses available, fashion stood out as the most creative path. That’s how I stepped into this world. My focus on sustainability came later, and very organically. I worked as a regular fashion designer for the first five years. But once I became aware of the darker realities of the fashion industry—its impact on the environment and people—I couldn’t turn away. I knew I had to shift my path, even if it meant starting over in many ways. Cultural storytelling also found me naturally. As an artist, we tend to create from what moves us, and I’ve always felt deeply connected to my roots. So when I seek inspiration, I find myself drawn to the stories, art forms, and traditions I grew up with. It’s not a calculated choice—it’s where my heart goes.

Q: How did your background in Tamil heritage shape your approach to fashion and your commitment to preserving traditional art forms?

A: I come from a small town called Vandavasi in Tamil Nadu, India. We didn’t even have a television at home until I entered college, so my entire childhood was surrounded by traditional forms of entertainment and culture. That environment shaped me deeply. I give full credit to the village lifestyle I grew up in—those formative years still guide me today.

My father, Dr Audikesavalu, was a doctor who served the surrounding villages, so I had the opportunity to meet many cultural artists and artisans from an early age. I’ve seen their work up close and understood the dedication and detail that goes into every piece they create. To me, the process behind these traditional art forms is no less complex or inspiring than any big international project. In fact, I believe these are the very foundations on which global art and fashion stand. Today, my work in fashion gives me the privilege to present on global platforms—runways in Shanghai, New York, Brooklyn, and London. And when the stage is that global, I feel an even stronger urge to tell our stories. I want to take our culture, our roots, and showcase them with pride. For me, it’s never just garments on a ramp—it’s stories from my land, from my heart. Every time a collection walks the runway, a piece of home walks with it.

Q: As a Global Sustainable Fashion Trailblazer, how do you define sustainable fashion, and why is it such an important part of today’s fashion industry?

A: To me, sustainable fashion simply means fashion that respects people and the planet. It’s about creating thoughtfully, consuming mindfully, and valuing the journey of a garment—not just its appearance. Fashion as an industry has grown tremendously over the past few decades, but that growth has come at a heavy cost. Today, the volume of clothing being produced and consumed is overwhelming. We’re seeing the overuse of chemical fertilisers for cotton, landfills overflowing with polyester garments that will take hundreds of years to decompose, dyeing industries polluting our rivers, and a supply chain that leaves a massive carbon footprint.

Microplastics from synthetic clothes are ending up in our oceans, and let’s not forget the human cost—garment workers made to work in unsafe conditions for extremely low wages.

If we look closely, it’s not fashion itself that’s the problem—it’s the volume. Clothes were once a necessity, treasured and passed down. Today, they’ve become throwaway items, consumed and discarded at an alarming pace. That shift in mindset is at the root of the crisis.

So, it’s high time we all pause and ask: do I really need this? Can I wear it longer, repair it, or pass it on? Sustainable fashion isn’t just a designer’s responsibility—it’s a collective movement. We all need to be more conscious, more respectful, and more connected to what we wear.

Q: What do you see as the biggest challenges the fashion industry faces in transitioning to sustainability, and how can those challenges be overcome?

A: Not too long ago, fashion houses would release just two collections a year—Spring/Summer and Fall/Winter. That rhythm gave time for thought, craft, and care. But then came the fast fashion model, producing one collection per week. And now, with ultra-fast fashion, new styles drop every single day. This business model was unleashed into the world, and now, even the biggest brands are struggling to keep up—with market expectations, intense competition, and piles of unsold stock. To deal with excess, some brands dump garments in remote deserts or burn them. In an attempt to cut costs, many outsource production to countries offering cheap labor, often at the expense of ethical working conditions. It’s a cycle that’s not just unsustainable—it’s heartbreaking.

The way forward isn’t complicated, but it does require courage. We need to reduce the number of garments we produce. We need to make better choices in materials—those that are kind to the environment. Yes, this may affect profit margins in the short term, but at the end of the day, we all live on the same planet. We can’t afford to burn the house down and expect to live in it.

It’s about reimagining fashion not just as an industry, but as a responsibility—to people, to nature, and to the future.

Q: Your work beautifully bridges the gap between ancient Tamil folk art and modern fashion. How do you ensure that the cultural stories you share through your collections remain authentic and respectful of their origins?

A: For me, art isn’t something that can be confined within rigid boundaries. It has to flow—organically and honestly. I choose my inspiration based on the emotional impact it has on my life. Once something moves me, my curiosity naturally takes over. That’s when I travel to the roots of the art form. I spend time with the artists and artisans in their own spaces—learning from them, listening to their stories, observing their process, and even trying my hand at the craft. I immerse myself fully, not just as a designer, but as a student. I document what I can, but more importantly, I soak it all in—the sights, the sounds, the spirit of the art form.

Then, I return to my drawing table, and the designs that emerge are shaped by all that I’ve experienced. What you see on the runway is not just a product of visual inspiration—it’s an expression of love, of deep respect for the craft and its people. That’s how it stays authentic—because it comes from lived experience, not just online research or references. It’s a tribute, not a trend.

Q: Can you tell us more about the process of incorporating Purisai Therukoothu into your fashion shows, especially during London Fashion Week?

A: When the opportunity came to showcase at London Fashion Week, I knew I wanted to bring Therukoothu—particularly the Purisai tradition—as the soul of the collection. But I also felt strongly that if the garments alone walked the ramp, the depth and drama of the art form wouldn’t come through. Most people in the audience would have no idea what Therukoothu looked or felt like.

So, we requested the LFW producers for an additional minute on the runway—not for fashion, but to showcase the art form itself. To my joy, they were excited and supported the idea wholeheartedly.

That’s when Purisai Kannappa Sambandan Ayya stepped in. A torchbearer of the tradition, he personally trained and guided the brilliant theatre actor Vaanmadhi Jagan for the performance. He even taught me how to dress the character authentically, staying true to tradition. We also recorded original Therukoothu music to be played live during the show. 

What happened on that runway wasn’t just fashion—it was a moment of cultural exchange. For many in the London audience, it was the first time witnessing something so theatrical and rooted in ancient Tamil storytelling. It wasn’t just my collection walking the ramp that day—it was a piece of our heritage, and it was received with awe.

Q: Artisan empowerment is at the core of your work. How do you collaborate with artisans, and what steps do you take to ensure they receive fair recognition and compensation for their craftsmanship?

A: Like many things in my journey, artisan collaboration wasn’t a calculated decision—it happened naturally. As an artist, I’m drawn to crafts that move me deeply. And when something touches me, I feel a quiet responsibility to honour it and share it with the world in a meaningful way.

Right now, we’re working closely with the Jamakkalam weavers of Bhavani in Erode district, Tamil Nadu. These textiles have such a bold, distinct identity. I see them on a par with any globally admired textile tradition—from Turkish to Moroccan to Brazilian. They deserve to be recognised and celebrated in the global market. So, we’ve reimagined Jamakkalams into premium handbags—crafted with the same quality and finesse as any luxury accessory. These pieces are now retailing in Dubai and Singapore, but their heart remains rooted in the looms of Bhavani.

To ensure fair collaboration, we partner with the Centre for Weavers at Kumaraguru College of Technology, Coimbatore. They help us distribute work among the local weaving communities and ensure the artisans are paid well and treated with dignity. And beyond the work itself—we document their process, their stories, and their lives. We celebrate them openly on our social platforms. In our world, we don’t rely on celebrity influencers—our weavers, our artisans, our artists are our stars. They are the true faces of the brand, and every creation we send out carries their spirit and soul.

Q: What are some of the challenges artisans face in today’s globalised fashion industry, and how do you think we can create a more equitable environment for them?

A: We have a rich heritage of craft and exceptional skills that could easily stand on a global stage, but the challenge we face is a lack of visibility and structure. Our artisans need better ways to be found, and global brands need to be able to easily discover and connect with them. For me, the journey to the roots of my craft is personal. I don’t mind making multiple trips between Dubai and the rural weaving communities to understand the artisans’ needs and to work directly with them. But international brands don’t always have that luxury or time.

What we need are well-structured platforms that make it easier for global brands to learn about our heritage, our craftsmanship, and the sustainability embedded in our processes.

We need to build comprehensive websites that showcase our crafts and share our stories—how our traditions are sustainable, and how we’re ready to meet global standards. With the growing demand for traceability, we also need to have measurable data—like CO2 impact reports—so that we can demonstrate how sustainable our crafts truly are. Within fashion industry, there’s a misconception that Indian crafts are only about embroidery in a few cities. The truth is, there are hidden gems across the country, ready to be discovered. As a small brand, we’re doing what we can, but to truly scale and create a larger impact, it’s crucial that governments and institutions step in to help structure these efforts. By doing so, we can ensure our artisans get the recognition they deserve and create a more equitable and connected global market for their work.

Q: You have been honoured by the UK Government and the World Tamil Organisation. How do these recognitions influence your mission and the work you continue to do?

A: For a small-town girl like me, this recognition is truly an honour. As I mentioned in my acceptance speech, this isn’t just an award for me—I’m merely a representative of the artisans, artists, and weavers whose work I carry forward. When I decided to switch paths and become a sustainable fashion designer, I knew it wouldn’t be an easy journey. It’s not a short sprint; it’s a marathon. Awards like these are like energy boosters, pushing me to keep going.

While these recognitions are deeply humbling and give me the encouragement to push forward, the real reward comes from the impact my work has on the lives of the artisans and communities I work with. When I look at the changes we’ve made together, that’s the true prize.

Q: How do you envision the future of fashion as a force for good, particularly in terms of environmental sustainability and social justice?

A: Fashion is a powerful visual medium. It’s one of the most immediate ways we can express who we are and what we stand for. I look up to Mahatma Gandhi as a true pioneer of sustainable fashion. His choice to wear only two pieces of linen, promoting Khadi, was not just about minimalism—it was a powerful symbol of resistance against mass-produced fabrics. When he wore just two pieces of linen to the British Parliament, he made a bold visual statement about his values and his stand for social justice and sustainability. If we look at that example, it’s clear how fashion can be a tool for social impact. Fashion isn’t just about trends or mannequins in fast fashion stores—it’s about using this medium to reflect our true selves and support causes that matter.

The future of fashion, in my vision, is one where we break free from mindless trends and social media-driven consumerism. Instead, we embrace personal style that reflects our values, and we choose to buy from local brands and artisans. By doing so, we don’t just support the livelihoods of these communities; we also make a real, positive impact on the planet. There’s nothing more sustainable than buying local.

Q: How do you see the next chapter of your journey unfolding?

A: Honestly, I go with the flow. I don’t have a rigid plan. I choose the paths that touch my heart and follow them. My journey has taken me across different countries—China, the US, the UAE—where I’ve studied architecture, worked in media, and transitioned into sustainable fashion. None of this was pre-planned; it has all happened organically. What I do know is that whatever comes next, I will try my best to contribute to something much bigger than myself. I want to remain a humble tool in something larger than me.

 Q: Are there any new projects or collaborations you’re particularly excited about in the coming year?

A: As I’ve mentioned, we are involved in an exciting and meaningful project —reimagining Bavani’s traditional textiles in collaboration with the local weavers. We’ve recently launched our premium bags made out of Jamakkalam textiles, and we’re eagerly anticipating how the global market will respond to these products.

We are also in the R&D phase, exploring how else this remarkable textile can be adapted and evolved to ensure its relevance in the modern world. It’s a process of discovery—understanding how the craft can be transformed while still honouring its authenticity.

—manuvipin@newindianexpress.com