This Onam, Let Your Onakkodi Carry a Story

Every Onam, a new garment enters the home. For some, it is a kasavu set-mundu; for others, a saree, mundu, shirt, kurta, dress or a child's festive outfit. Whatever its form, the Onakkodi has long represented renewal, generosity and the joy of beginning the festival in something new. Yet behind this familiar tradition lies a story that is rarely considered, the story of the fibre, the yarn, the loom, the dye, the water, the energy, the people and the resources that have gone into making the garment we wear.

That story matters more today than ever.

Clothing is one of those everyday products whose environmental footprint is easy to overlook because the finished garment is small, light and familiar. We see the colour, texture and design, but not the agricultural land or fossil resources behind the fibre, the water and energy used during processing, the chemicals involved in dyeing and finishing, the electricity required during manufacture, the transport involved in moving materials and products, or the waste generated when clothing is discarded. The United Nations Environment Programme (UNEP) considers the textile sector an important area for action on resource use, pollution, climate change and circularity, emphasising that sustainability must be considered across the entire textile value chain.

This does not mean that celebrating Onam or buying a new Onakkodi is inherently environmentally harmful. It means that the tradition gives us an opportunity to think more carefully about what we buy, how it is made, how long we use it and what happens to it afterwards.

Perhaps, therefore, the question this Onam is not simply, “What should I wear?” It is also, “What kind of story do I want my clothes to tell?”

A garment has a life before it reaches us

A finished garment is the final product of a long chain of activities. Depending on the fibre and manufacturing system, raw materials must first be cultivated or extracted, converted into fibres, spun into yarn and transformed into fabric through weaving or knitting. The fabric may then be bleached, dyed, printed and finished before it is cut and stitched. After manufacturing, it is packaged, transported, sold and eventually brought into a household, where washing, drying, ironing, storage, repair and disposal become part of its life cycle.

The environmental consequences can occur at every stage.

This is why it is difficult to identify one fibre or one production method as universally “the most sustainable.” Cotton, for example, is a natural fibre, but its cultivation can involve substantial water and agricultural inputs depending on the location and farming system. Synthetic fibres such as polyester and nylon are derived from polymers, many of which are connected to fossil resources, and synthetic textiles can contribute to microfibre pollution during their use. Dyeing and finishing can create their own demands for water, energy and chemicals.

A scientifically responsible approach therefore avoids simplistic equations such as natural equals sustainable or synthetic equals unsustainable. Instead, sustainability requires a broader life-cycle perspective that considers the material, manufacturing process, durability, frequency of use, maintenance and end-of-life options.

This broader perspective changes the way we think about an Onakkodi.

The most environmentally responsible choice is not necessarily the garment with the most impressive sustainability claim on its label. It may be the garment that is well made, frequently worn, carefully maintained and kept in use for many years.

The value of wearing a garment for longer

One of the most important principles in sustainable fashion is remarkably simple: extend the useful life of clothing.

Imagine two garments. One is inexpensive, bought for a particular celebration and worn only twice before being forgotten in the wardrobe. Another costs more, but is durable, versatile and worn repeatedly for many years. Looking only at the purchase price tells us very little about their relative value.

The environmental resources invested in producing a garment do not disappear after its first use. If a durable garment remains in use for many years, those resources continue to provide value. A garment worn dozens of times can therefore have a very different environmental significance from one that is worn once or twice.

This is one reason why durability, repairability and versatility are important aspects of sustainable clothing.

It also offers a beautiful way to reinterpret the Onakkodi. Rather than thinking of it as a garment that belongs only to one Onam, we can choose something that will accompany us through many occasions: another Onam, Vishu, a wedding, a family gathering, a cultural programme, a workplace celebration or an ordinary day.

A good Onakkodi does not have to stop being useful when Onam ends.

Kerala already has a textile tradition suited to this conversation

When sustainability is discussed today, it can sound like a new idea that must be imported into our lives. Kerala's textile traditions remind us that many of the principles now associated with responsible consumption, durability, craftsmanship, repair, reuse and respect for material, have long been present in traditional production and consumption practices.

Kerala has a rich and distinctive handloom heritage, with important weaving centres including Balaramapuram, Kuthampully, Chendamangalam and Kasaragod. The Directorate of Handlooms and Textiles, Government of Kerala, identifies several regional handloom products with Geographical Indication recognition, including Balaramapuram sarees and fine cotton fabrics, Kuthampully sarees, Kuthampully dhotis and set mundu, Kasaragod sarees and Chendamangalam dhotis and set mundu.

These textiles represent more than a particular appearance or weaving technique. They embody knowledge accumulated over generations: how yarn behaves, how a loom is operated, how patterns are formed, how borders are constructed and how a particular community has developed its own textile identity.

Balaramapuram provides a particularly strong example. The traditional weaving industry there has a history extending back around two centuries and is associated with the textile culture of the former Travancore region. Its fine cotton fabrics and characteristic kasavu work have become closely associated with Kerala's cultural identity.

When a consumer chooses such a textile, the purchase can therefore become more than a fashion decision. It can become a way of participating in the continued economic life of a traditional craft.

Kaithari is not simply a style; it is a skill

The word kaithari evokes the handloom tradition itself, the making of cloth through skilled human weaving.

There is a natural connection between kaithari and Onam because both are deeply rooted in Kerala's cultural identity. A handwoven garment carries something that a mass-produced garment often cannot: the visible and material evidence of a particular craft process.

But consumers should be careful not to assume that every garment marketed with traditional-looking patterns is genuinely handwoven. When purchasing handloom, it is reasonable to ask about the origin of the product, the weaving process, the fibre used and any relevant certification or product identification. Kerala's handloom sector has established systems and initiatives for identifying and promoting its handloom products, including the Kaithari Indication Tag and other handloom-related schemes.

The more transparent the product information, the easier it becomes for consumers to make informed choices.

And there is an important social dimension here. A weaving tradition cannot survive as a cultural symbol alone. It needs economically viable producers, skilled workers, functioning markets and consumers who are willing to value craftsmanship.

In that sense, purchasing genuine handloom can support not only a garment but a living textile ecosystem.

The colour of a garment has an environmental story too

When we look at clothing, we naturally notice colour first. Yet the colour itself may represent a complex stage in textile processing.

Bleaching, dyeing, printing and finishing can require significant amounts of water, energy and chemical inputs. These processes can also generate wastewater that requires appropriate treatment. UNEP identifies wet processing as one of the important environmental hotspots within textile value chains.

This is one reason natural dyes have attracted increasing interest.

Natural dyes can be derived from biological materials such as leaves, flowers, bark, roots, seeds and other plant-based sources. They connect textile production with traditional knowledge of natural materials and, in Kerala, can be part of a broader cultural story about the relationship between textiles and the region's rich plant diversity.

But once again, environmental responsibility requires precision.

Natural does not automatically mean environmentally harmless.

Natural dyeing can still require water, energy, plant materials, heating and, in some processes, mordants. The sustainability of a dyeing process therefore depends on how the materials are sourced, how much water and energy are used, how wastewater is managed and how the entire process is carried out.

For consumers, the useful question is not simply, “Is this naturally dyed?” It is, “What exactly does the producer mean by natural dyeing, and how is the process managed?”

That question encourages transparency rather than marketing language.

Ayurvastra: tradition without exaggerated claims

Ayurvastra is another textile tradition that can be interesting in the context of Kerala's cultural and environmental heritage. The term is associated with textiles processed using Ayurvedic or herbal materials, and documented Kerala enterprises have described the use of herbs and plant materials in the processing and dyeing of handwoven textiles.

The tradition raises an interesting intersection between textile craftsmanship, natural materials and traditional plant knowledge.

However, it is important to distinguish textile tradition from medical evidence.

A garment processed using herbs may legitimately be described in terms of its materials and production method when those claims are documented. That does not automatically establish that wearing the garment can treat, prevent or cure a disease. Such therapeutic claims require appropriate scientific and clinical evidence.

This distinction is particularly important in an article about sustainability because credibility depends on not overstating what the evidence shows.

Ayurvastra can be appreciated for its textile heritage, craftsmanship and use of traditional materials without turning an environmental or cultural discussion into an unsupported health claim.

The best Onakkodi may be the one you can wear for years

Sustainability is sometimes reduced to a discussion of what a garment is made from. But the environmental value of clothing is also strongly influenced by what happens after purchase.

A durable garment that remains in active use for years can make much better use of the resources invested in producing it than a garment that quickly becomes unwanted.

This makes versatility particularly important.

A saree that can be worn to several occasions is more useful than a garment designed for one photograph. A simple handloom shirt can become part of an everyday wardrobe. A well-made set-mundu can return every Onam rather than being replaced every year. Children's clothing can be passed between siblings or relatives when appropriate.

The most sustainable Onakkodi may therefore not be the one that looks the most fashionable for one day.

It may be the one that still looks beautiful five years from now.

From fast fashion to circular fashion

The conventional linear model of consumption is straightforward:

Take. Make. Buy. Use. Discard.

Circular fashion proposes a different pathway:

Design. Make. Use. Maintain. Repair. Reuse. Repurpose. Recycle.

The objective is to keep products and materials useful for as long as possible.

UNEP's global roadmap for sustainable and circular textiles identifies changes in consumption patterns, improved production practices and investment in circular infrastructure as important elements of the transition.

At the household level, circularity does not need to be complicated.

It can mean wearing a garment again next year.

It can mean repairing a torn seam.

It can mean altering a garment when fashion or body size changes.

It can mean giving a good garment to someone else instead of discarding it.

It can mean converting an old saree into another useful textile product.

And it can mean asking whether a new purchase is actually necessary.

These actions may seem small compared with the scale of the global textile industry, but they change the relationship between the consumer and the product.

Clothing stops being disposable.

It becomes something to care for.

What happens when synthetic clothing is washed?

The environmental life of a garment continues after it reaches the wardrobe.

Washing requires water and energy, while drying and ironing can require additional energy. Synthetic textiles also raise another concern: the release of microscopic fibres during use and laundering.

Research and assessments by European environmental authorities have identified synthetic textile washing as an important pathway for microfibre pollution. Wastewater treatment can capture a substantial proportion of these particles, but not necessarily all of them.

This is another reason why the sustainability of clothing cannot be judged solely at the point of purchase.

How often a garment is washed, how it is washed, how it is dried and how long it remains in use all matter.

At the same time, this should not lead us to throw away existing synthetic clothes in the name of sustainability. Replacing a functional garment simply because its fibre is synthetic can create another environmental burden.

A better principle is:

Use existing clothing for as long as it remains useful, and make more informed choices when replacement is genuinely necessary.

What should an environmentally conscious Onakkodi buyer look for?

There is no single label that can answer every sustainability question. Instead, consumers can make better decisions by asking several simple questions.

First, what is the fibre? Check the composition rather than relying on words such as “natural” or “eco-friendly.”

Second, is it genuinely handwoven? If handloom matters to you, ask about the weaving process and product origin.

Third, where was it made? A garment connected to a known weaving centre or producer has a clearer story of provenance.

Fourth, who made it? Transparent information about the artisan, cooperative, producer or manufacturing unit can add value to the purchase.

Fifth, how was it dyed and finished? If natural dyeing or other environmental claims are made, look for meaningful information about the process.

Sixth, how durable is it? Consider fabric quality, construction, stitching and care requirements.

Seventh, will you wear it repeatedly? This may be the most important question of all.

Finally, what happens when you no longer need it? A garment that can be repaired, passed on, altered or repurposed has more potential for a circular life.

Look beyond the word “eco-friendly”

As sustainability becomes more popular, environmental language has also become a marketing tool.

Words such as natural, organic, green, conscious, eco-friendly, sustainable and handcrafted can all be meaningful, but only when they are supported by specific information.

A responsible consumer should therefore ask:

What exactly makes this garment more sustainable?

Is the fibre certified?

Is the product genuinely handwoven?

Is the origin known?

Are environmental claims documented?

Is the production process transparent?

Can the seller explain the material and manufacturing process?

These questions are not intended to make shopping difficult. They make it more informed.

The future of sustainable fashion will depend not only on better products but also on better information.

Sometimes the most sustainable Onakkodi is already in your cupboard

There is an even simpler possibility.

Perhaps last year's Onakkodi is still perfectly good.

Perhaps a saree belonging to a mother or grandmother can be worn again.

Perhaps an old handloom garment can be altered.

Perhaps a family member has a beautiful outfit that is no longer being used.

Perhaps a small repair is all that is needed.

From an environmental perspective, continuing to use an existing garment can be one of the simplest ways to avoid the additional impacts associated with producing another one.

The resources have already been invested. The fibre has already been processed. The fabric has already been woven. The garment has already travelled.

Giving it another year of useful life allows those resources to continue providing value.

This is not anti-consumption.

It is responsible consumption.

And when you do buy, make the purchase count

Supporting handloom and traditional textiles does not conflict with the principle of buying less.

In fact, the two ideas can reinforce each other.

A handloom garment that is purchased thoughtfully, worn repeatedly and maintained for many years can support a very different consumption pattern from the rapid replacement of inexpensive trend-driven clothing.

The goal is not to stop buying.

The goal is to buy with intention.

Choose fewer garments.

Choose ones that suit your life.

Choose quality where possible.

Choose transparency.

Support artisans and responsible producers.

Then use what you buy fully.

A purchase can be both a consumption decision and a cultural decision.

When you choose a Kerala handloom garment, you may be helping sustain demand for a traditional weaving community. When you choose a durable textile, you are investing in longer use. When you choose a versatile garment, you are making it easier to wear the same resource many more times.

That is where environmental sustainability and cultural sustainability meet.

The Onakkodi can tell the story of Kerala

Imagine the journey of a handwoven Onakkodi.

A fibre becomes yarn.

The yarn reaches a loom.

The loom becomes the workplace of a skilled weaver.

Threads are arranged, tensioned and interlaced.

A pattern begins to emerge.

A border takes shape.

The cloth is finished.

It reaches a market.

A family chooses it for Onam.

On the morning of Thiruvonam, someone wears it for the first time.

But the story does not end there.

The garment may return the following year.

It may be worn at another celebration.

It may become associated with a particular family memory.

It may be passed to another person.

Perhaps many years later, someone will still remember where it came from.

This is what gives traditional textiles their extraordinary cultural value.

They can connect material, place, skill, people and memory.

And that is why the Onakkodi can become more than a seasonal purchase.

It can become a small expression of what we choose to value.

A different way to think about an Onakkodi

Onam is a celebration of abundance, but abundance does not have to mean excess.

We can celebrate generously without treating everything as disposable.

We can embrace something new without believing that everything old has lost its value.

We can enjoy fashion without allowing fashion to become waste.

And we can support traditional crafts without romanticising them or ignoring the environmental realities of textile production.

The answer lies in balance.

Choose well. Use longer. Waste less.

That philosophy is simple enough to practise and broad enough to matter.

This Onam, let your Onakkodi carry a story

Environmental sustainability can sometimes feel distant. Climate change, pollution, resource depletion and waste are global problems measured in enormous quantities.

Yet our relationship with the environment is also expressed through ordinary choices.

The food we eat.

The things we buy.

The things we keep.

The things we throw away.

And the clothes we wear.

The Onakkodi offers a beautiful place to begin because it is already connected to renewal, celebration, family and cultural identity.

This year, we can add another dimension to that tradition.

We can ask where our clothes came from.

We can learn about Kerala's handloom communities.

We can explore kaithari.

We can consider khadi and responsibly produced natural-fibre textiles.

We can learn about natural dyeing without assuming that everything labelled “natural” is automatically sustainable.

We can explore Ayurvastra as a traditional textile practice while remaining careful about unsupported health claims.

We can choose garments that are durable, versatile and likely to be worn repeatedly.

We can repair what we already own.

We can pass good clothing to someone else.

We can reduce unnecessary packaging.

And we can make our purchases count.

None of these choices alone will transform the global textile industry.

But together, they represent a different relationship with clothing.

A relationship based not on disposability, but on value.

Not only the value of money, but the value of material, labour, skill, culture and time.

Perhaps that is the deeper opportunity hidden inside the Onakkodi.

The new garment can remind us that sustainability is not always about rejecting tradition. Sometimes it is about looking at tradition again and discovering values that remain relevant to the future.

Kerala's handloom heritage has survived because knowledge has passed from one generation to another. It will continue only if the craft remains meaningful and economically viable in the present.

That makes every thoughtful purchase part of a larger story.

A story about the farmer who grows a fibre.

The producer who turns it into yarn.

The dyer who gives it colour.

The weaver who gives it form.

The tailor who gives it shape.

The family that gives it meaning.

And the person who decides to keep it in use.

So, when you choose your Onakkodi this year, look beyond the colour and the price.

Ask what it is made from.

Ask where it came from.

Ask who made it.

Ask how long you are likely to wear it.

Ask whether you can repair it.

Ask whether it can have another life after yours.

And then ask one final question:

“Will I still love this garment years from now?”

If the answer is yes, you may have found more than a new dress.

You may have found a garment with a future.

A garment that supports a craft.

A garment that carries a tradition.

A garment that makes better use of the resources invested in it.

A garment that can move from one celebration to another and, perhaps, from one generation to the next.

Because perhaps the most meaningful Onakkodi is not the one that is simply newest.

It is the one that remains valuable.

The one that survives the season.

The one that is worn again.

The one that is repaired rather than discarded.

The one whose threads carry the memory of a place, the skill of a person and the values of a culture.

This Onam, let your Onakkodi carry a story.

Let it tell the story of Kerala's hands, Kerala's heritage and a more thoughtful relationship with the resources that make our celebrations possible.

And when the pookkalam has faded, the sadya is over and Onam has become a memory, let the Onakkodi remain ready to tell its story again.

A simple Onakkodi promise

Buy thoughtfully. Choose transparently. Prefer durability. Support artisans. Wear repeatedly. Repair when possible. Reuse and pass it on.

Because the best Onakkodi is not merely something new to wear on Onam.

It is something worth wearing long after Onam is over.

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