he headline is not just a question, it’s a cry for help. Not to overstate a matter that perhaps pales in comparison to more urgent life concerns, why do we accept the mediocrity that is thrown at us in the name of fashion, constantly?

Look, we get it. Times are tough, prices are rising, salaries remain where they were a year ago, and you have an image to present to the world. Just going by the very unscientific research of looking at posts on Facebook groups selling a preloved wedding jora, for the very reduced price of Rs 600,000 vs. the original price of Rs 850,000, and ones asking for ‘budget options’ where the budget closes at around Rs 400,000, one can draw the obvious conclusion that there is a market for quality clothes at a fairly high price point. So then why are all those joras exactly the same, in that they are heavily embellished, decidedly only bride-appropriate, and you can mostly tell the designer apart by the palette and motifs alone?

That the market that will pay those prices for the label exists is enough to establish that the same market can also be introduced to newer labels and fresh designers. But the rub is, that while the market exists, the fresh designers exist, one does not know how to find the other.

Designers can and will display and sell their wares on social media platforms, with the added benefit of sponsored posts that may or may not catch the attention of their TA. Potential clients may or may not click on said ads and posts, or may simply dismiss an unknown name in favor of a name they are better-acquainted with. What ultimately is produced is large gap between buyer and seller, to the seller’s disadvantage, mostly.

If, e.g., you have scrolled past Sanat Manzil’s posts, you have missed out. The label, started by Sayyeda Umme Abeeha and Fatima Mirza, graduates of Multan College of Art, you have missed out on a chance to add character to your daily wardrobe.

They have dedicated one entire line to the process of falling in love, heartbreak, and recovery. They are the Emily Dickinson of fashion, the Taylor Swift of embroidery. They have a lot of feelings, and they will not only force you to hear all about those feelings, they will also make you wear them.

“We wanted to work in a way to incorporate our art and our ideas in something that people can carry in their daily lives,” says Abeeha. “That is when we were struck with the idea of wearable art and without thinking twice we jumped right in.

What younger labels in the industry need isn’t an individual, one-on-one mentor, they need an entity that organizes successful labels under one umbrella to welcome and train new talent, mobilize trade and editorial activity in the country, and smoother export processes to ensure everyone has a chance to develop as far as they can. It isn’t entirely about everyone having a piece of the pie regardless of what they bring to the table either. Design houses that don’t bring skill or hard work will fall behind anyway. The natural selection in any industry is strong; only the fittest will survive.

“Our design philosophy is to give people an avenue to wear their emotion in daily life fearlessly. You can say our aesthetic is loud and sometimes violent expression.”

The pieces that Sanat Manzil has introduced so far take their first breath as illustrations, that are patterned out on fabric and embroidered, sequined or beaded. A t-shirt is acid-washed, and embroidered over with a loose cacti motif, to depict the rage that follows heartache. Funky fuchsia hearts crack open across black cotton; little red buds creep their way up a top to symbolize regeneration.

There is clearly a lot of thought that goes into the works produced by Sanat Manzil, who so far have no plans to expand, with the only goal at this time being, “to gather an accepting and friendly community that can enjoy and accept the not-so-sane offerings from us in the future”.

Here is point no. 2 though: for all their skill and talent, there is absolutely no one guiding the brains behind Sanat Manzil to their full potential. What they are doing is incredible, but they also need to visualize their material in various cuts and drapes, thus deciding how much of which fabric they will work with, for which collection, and with which embellishment. Wouldn’t it have been marvelous if they knew exactly which number to dial when they finally decided to launch their label?

What younger labels in the industry need isn’t an individual, one-on-one mentor, they need an entity that organizes successful labels under one umbrella to welcome and train new talent, mobilize trade and editorial activity in the country, and smoother export processes to ensure everyone has a chance to develop as far as they can.

It isn’t entirely about everyone having a piece of the pie regardless of what they bring to the table either. Design houses that don’t bring skill or hard work will fall behind anyway. The natural selection in any industry is strong; only the fittest will survive.

Which brings us to the final thought: there needs to be someone invested in the survival of the industry as a whole to ensure that the right people and organizations are roped in to offer what they do best. To organize and teach, to create processes that allow access to grants and funds, to ensure that shows take place regularly, and the industry keeps moving forward, rather than remaining in neutral forever, and ultimately stagnating with no plan, and therefore no future.