- A Sundowner chat with Buddhi Batiks
Fashion fulfills one of humanity’s most basic needs, but also combines that need with artistic expression. Buddhi Batiks recently hosted “A Sundowner with Buddhi Batiks: Wearable Art, Conversation, Craft,” a sophisticated forum for discussing the evolution of textile art. The sundowner invited attendees to reconsider batik not as a souvenir or seasonal trend, but as an evolving artistic language. Focusing on the relationship between fabric and self-expression, the evening fostered a meaningful exchange between traditional craft and contemporary design.
Clothing pieces were displayed as standalone works of art – suspended, framed, spotlighted – encouraging guests to observe the intricate wax-resist techniques, brush strokes and dye gradations as they would a painting in a gallery.
Garments as gallery pieces
The decision to present garments in this way was deliberate. “We’ve always said our pieces are wearable art,” Budhhi Batiks Creative Director and CEO Darshi Keerthisena shared during the evening’s conversation. “But sometimes when something is worn on a body, people see the silhouette before they see the story. By placing these pieces in a gallery-style setting, we’re asking you to pause, to look at the craft, the layers, the human hand.”
On display were flowing kaftans awash in oceanic blues, structured jackets edged with burnished gold, and silk panels that seemed to hold entire landscapes within their folds. Without mannequins to animate them, the garments held their own presence. Guests leaned in to trace the crackled lines of wax, to decipher motifs that nodded to Sri Lanka’s flora, temple carvings and coastal rhythms.
Keerthisena spoke about batik as both inheritance and rebellion. “Batik in Sri Lanka has often been boxed into a certain aesthetic – bright elephants, beachwear, tourist markets,” she said. “There’s nothing wrong with that. But for us, batik is a medium, like oil paint or charcoal. It can be restrained, political, abstract, quiet. It can be anything we dare to attempt.”
The slow language of craft
That philosophy has guided Buddhi Batiks for decades, positioning it as one of the country’s most recognisable fashion houses. Yet the evening’s tone was intimate rather than grand. A small circle of chairs was arranged among the artfully displayed garments, inviting conversation rather than spectacle. As glasses clinked and the last of the daylight filtered through, the discussion turned to what it means to wear art in a fast-fashion world.
“There’s a kind of urgency in the global fashion industry – produce more, consume more, discard quickly,” Keerthisena said. “Batik doesn’t allow for that pace. It demands time. Each layer of wax must dry. Each dye bath must settle. If you rush it, the fabric tells on you.”
She described the unpredictability of the process as both a challenge and gift. No two pieces are identical; even when artisans follow the same design, subtle variations in wax flow or dye absorption create unique outcomes. “You can guide batik,” she explained, “but you can’t fully control it. That tension is what makes it alive.”
Throughout the evening, artisans from the Buddhi Batiks workshop were acknowledged as co-creators. Photographs and short videos projected onto a wall showed hands at work – dipping cloth into vats of colour, tracing molten wax with tjanting tools, carefully ironing out final textures. The emphasis on process felt intentional, grounding the glamour of finished garments in the labour that made them possible.
“For me, craft is not a nostalgic word,” Keerthisena said. “It’s contemporary. It’s resistance. When you choose something handmade, you’re choosing to value time, skill and community.”
Wearing memory, wearing meaning
Guests were invited to share their own relationships with clothing, heirloom saris passed down through generations, jackets bought on impulse that later became emotional armour. The conversation blurred the line between designer and audience. In that shared space, garments became vessels of memory rather than mere commodities.
One striking installation featured a series of white batik dresses arranged in a gradual shift from untouched cotton to fully dyed indigo. The progression illustrated the stages of wax application and dye immersion, making visible a process usually hidden behind closed studio doors. Standing before it, Keerthisena reflected on the metaphor embedded in the transformation.
“Batik mirrors life,” she said. “We go through layers. We protect certain parts of ourselves. We allow other parts to absorb colour, experience, heartbreak, joy. And when the wax is finally removed, what remains is something textured and real.”
Sustainability and staying power
The sundowner also addressed sustainability, a topic increasingly central to conversations around fashion. Keerthisena acknowledged the environmental impact of textile production globally, while outlining efforts within the Buddhi Batiks studio to reduce waste and experiment with more responsible dye practices.
“We’re not perfect,” she said candidly. “But we are committed to asking hard questions about how we source, how we produce, and how long our pieces live in someone’s wardrobe. If a garment can be worn for ten or twenty years, repaired, reimagined, passed on, that is sustainability too.”
As twilight deepened into evening, soft lights illuminated the fabrics, casting shadows that made the patterns appear almost three-dimensional. What began as a showcase subtly transformed into something closer to a meditation. The garments, freed from the expectations of a runway, invited slower looking.
Redefining wearable art
In a country where batik has long been intertwined with identity and tourism, the event felt like a reclamation. By placing clothing on pedestals and walls, Buddhi Batiks challenged the hierarchy that often separates “fine art” from fashion. The message was clear: a hand-dyed silk jacket can carry as much conceptual weight as a canvas in a museum.
“Art doesn’t have to hang in a white cube to be valid,” Keerthisena said. “Sometimes it moves through a room. Sometimes it sits across from you at dinner. Sometimes it wraps around your shoulders and makes you feel seen.”
The evening closed not with applause but with continued conversation. Guests lingered, returning to favourite pieces, noticing details they had missed earlier. In the half-light, the fabrics seemed almost to breathe — evidence of the hands that shaped them and the stories yet to unfold when they are worn.
A Sundowner with Buddhi Batiks was not simply a presentation of a new collection. It was an invitation to reconsider how we look at clothing, how we value craft, and how personal expression can be stitched into every seam. In reframing batik as both medium and message, the event affirmed what Keerthisena has long believed.
“When you wear something made with intention,” she said, as guests began to drift out into the night, “you carry that intention with you. That’s the power of wearable art.”