“Streetwear, to me, was never just fashion. It was functionality—what people wore when they got things done. Mechanics, farmers, technicians—India’s backbone. While Western streetwear emerged from the hip-hop scene and blue-collar grit, our Indian streets have always had their own identity. From veshtis to municipal uniforms, there’s design rooted in purpose. But no one talks about it. No one wears it with pride.

I was raised across seven countries before being sent to a hostel in Chennai. Culture shock? Absolutely. But also, culture awakening. I saw stories in the folds of a veshti, the fonts on a tea kadai signboard, the silence of a temple queue. I studied engineering, prepped for the army, taught mathematics—only to realise my calling lay elsewhere.

During COVID, I turned to art, then design. And slowly, something clicked.
Why isn’t a kurta edgy? Why are our silhouettes confined to weddings and rituals? Why can’t daily Indian wear be both fashionable and functional? These questions became the blueprint for Vinkwear—a brand rooted in everyday India, but built for tomorrow.

More than clothes, Vinkwear is a canvas. A platform where artists, craftsmen, and dreamers collaborate. Where traditional cuts meet modern culture. Where identity isn’t borrowed—but built.

Madras gave me that clarity. It made me feel seen, allowed me to break and rebuild. Whether it’s a roadside font or jasmine at a street corner—this city breathes design. People call it old school. I call it timeless.

Someday, like Florence or Kyoto, I hope Madras is known not just for what it makes, but for what it inspires. And Vinkwear? www.viinkwear.com That’s my love letter to that possibility.”