Sonia Ashmore explores the expertise behind muslin as well as the trade, colonial power and changing fashions that shaped its fortunes.
She puts muslin within a wider history of cultural exchange.
Muslin’s fortunes were shaped not just by changing fashions but by industrial competition and the shifting balance of political and economic power.
In Muslin: The Cloth That Clothed Empires (Niyogi Books), Sonia Ashmore outlines the history of this textile, from Bengal’s weaving centres to the markets and courts of the world. Drawing on the resources of the Victoria and Albert Museum, she explores the expertise behind muslin as well as the trade, colonial power and changing fashions that shaped its fortunes. A wealth of visuals augments the history. Rare examples of muslin and jamdani textiles showcase the skill of the spinners, weavers and embroiderers who made them. Some pieces are remarkable for their fineness, while others stand out for their intricate patterns and ornamentation. The textiles bring this history to life, allowing readers to appreciate the artistry for themselves.
Few fabrics have captured the imagination quite like muslin. Known for its exceptional fineness and prized across continents, it clothed emperors, influenced fashion and became a valuable item of international trade. Fine muslin was so highly prized that it was reserved for the Mughal emperors. It formed part of the annual tribute sent by the rulers of medieval Bengal, a practice continued for some years after the British took over revenue collection in 1765. More than 500 lengths of cloth were sent to the emperor in Delhi each year.
Ashmore puts muslin within a wider history of cultural exchange. Long before European traders arrived, Indian muslin travelled to global markets, including those of the Roman and Ottoman worlds. Western buyers found it difficult to believe that Dhaka muslin could have been made by human hands. Its extraordinary fineness gave rise to fanciful tales that it was woven by mermaids, fairies or even ghosts. Some believed that the delicate fabric was made underwater. Later, its popularity transformed European fashion, offering a light, flowing alternative to heavier fabrics. The East India Company was initially eager to import it, and fine pieces fetched high prices in Europe. Even in 1811, more than a century after muslin imports to Britain began, Jane Austen told her sister that she had paid seven shillings a yard for some checked muslin.
Such popularity naturally encouraged imitation. The Industrial Revolution brought in machines such as Samuel Crompton’s spinning mule, which could produce fine yarn in large quantities and at a much lower cost than hand spun Indian fabric. At the same time, Indian weavers lost the patronage of the Mughal court as the emperors’ power and wealth declined under British rule. Muslin’s fortunes were therefore shaped not just by changing fashions but by industrial competition and the shifting balance of political and economic power.
The darker side of this history is equally important. As the East India Company tightened its fist over Bengal’s textile trade, the relationship between weavers, merchants and overseas markets changed. British machine-made fabrics increasingly challenged Indian handloom production. Muslin’s decline was not simply the result of new technology or changing tastes; it was also linked to colonial rule and the weakening of the systems that had supported its makers.
The book’s focus on museum collections, however, also has its limitations. While the preserved antique textiles record the weaving of a painstaking history, the people who made them remain less prominent. More about their lives, working conditions and earnings would have added to the story. A closer look at how colonial policies and industrial competition affected different weaving communities would also have strengthened the account. This notwithstanding, Ashmore makes an eloquent case for looking at textiles as more than objects of beauty. Muslin carries the history of trade, technology, fashion and imperial power and its story is one of a craft that continues to inspire efforts at revival.
Richly illustrated, Muslin will appeal to readers interested in textiles, design, fashion and South-Asian history. It offers an immersive account of how a fabric born out of Bengal’s craftsmanship became part of a global story of cultural exchange, commerce and colonial power and spearheaded a fashion revolution.
(Anjana Basu is a writer and an advertising consultant based in Kolkata. Her recent works include The House the Press Built and Translating for Rituparno)
