Shelter 01 - Window 1.
• Premium suede leather with a soft, rich finish
• Hand embroidered detailing.
• Clean silhouette with a structured fit
• Contrast stitching on collar, placket, cuffs, and hem
• Button-front closure
• Shaped back paneling with curved seams
• Fully lined for comfort
• Functional front pockets
• Made in India
SIZE CHART -
|
Size
|
Chest (inches)
|
Length (inches)
|
Sleeve (inches)
|
|
XS
|
42
|
25
|
21.5
|
|
S
|
44
|
26
|
22
|
|
M
|
46
|
27
|
22.5
|
|
L
|
48
|
28
|
23
|
|
XL
|
50
|
29
|
23.5
|
|
XXL
|
52
|
30
|
24
|
Why? -
I still remember how mornings felt.
Not quiet. Never quiet. Someone arguing. Someone cooking. Someone crying. Someone laughing for no reason. Walls so thin you learn everyone’s life without asking.
That room it wasn’t big enough to dream in. But somehow, I did.
There was a window. Calling it a window feels wrong. It wasn’t neat. It wasn’t square. Just a broken opening that let dust in with the light. But every day, I stood there. Not because I had a plan. Just because I needed to breathe.
I’d look outside and feel this strange pain.
Not jealousy. Not anger.
Just this heavy thought there has to be more than this.
When you grow up in the slums, you learn early that nothing is permanent. Homes shift. People leave. Repairs never finish. Even hope comes in pieces. That’s why things are always stitched, tied, layered. You don’t replace. You survive.
This jacket comes from that exact place.
The suede feels strong because survival makes you strong. The embroidery isn’t clean because our lives weren’t clean-cut. The loose threads? That’s real life. Electric wires hanging. Clothes drying everywhere. Dreams left open because you don’t know when you’ll get the chance to finish them.
It’s made in Dharavi by people who don’t treat this as design. For them, it’s memory. Muscle memory. Hand memory. They stitch the way they’ve lived slowly, carefully, with respect for struggle.
This is Shelter 01.
Not a collection. A phase of life.
And this piece is Window 1.
It’s the moment you stop accepting things the way they are.
The moment your heart starts asking questions your surroundings can’t answer.
The moment you realize I can come from here without staying here.
I didn’t walk out with confidence.
I walked out with fear.
But I walked.
That window did that to me.
This jacket isn’t about where I am now.
It’s about where I stood staring outside, quietly promising myself I’d find a way out.
And maybe, when you wear it, you’ll feel that same pull.
