New Delhi in a taxi cab. The air, thick and hot with sun drenched dust. Car horns, an ambient symphony ever present through the window. Coca Cola and Fanta in glass bottles, marigolds, and shops casting fabrics on their floors in decadent abandon, one silk safely floating to rest on another. Outside, pigment thrown everywhere; bodies drenched in color. Bakhtin’s carnivalesque as Holi and holy. The evening’s shower water drained a mess of electric hues, washed out from the day. The adulation, the hazy grace in the tossing up of colors, falling into the most reasonable place: the absurd.

The Tawaraya Confetti shirt is made of custom-printed Italian silk crepe. Its interior French seams are bound with silk charmeuse, prioritizing the feel and the subjective experience of the garment for the wearer as much as its visual appearance. Horn buttons line the back of the shirt vertically, and a rounded collar sits confidently on its own, or with an Yves bow to echo the whimsical spirit of the print.