

There’s a way stories move that doesn’t require volume.
They shift through glances, silence, pauses, and posture. The Tea was built on that exact current — the one that slips between words and reshapes the room before anyone notices.
This collection was never just about clothes. It’s about what they hold — tension, suggestion, confidence. It started with observation. From textile hubs to hidden workshops, from forest edges to city rooftops, I kept seeing the same thing: communication that doesn’t announce itself. And how powerful that can be.
Where It Comes From
In the early years of building Nashional Permit, I spent months on the road — hopping from one production cluster to another, working with dye houses, printmakers, tailors, and fabric vendors. Whether it was in Surat or Barmer, Jaipur or the hills of Himachal, there was always a common rhythm to how people worked — and how they spoke while working.
Gossip was everywhere. Not in the messy sense — but in its purest form: as exchange. Efficient, fast-moving, full of implication. Shared over chai breaks, eye contact, half-finished sentences. It wasn’t about drama. It was about knowing.
And in those same spaces, outside the factories and in between conversations, I started noticing the same rhythm in the natural world. A squirrel twitching on a parapet, alert and scanning. Birds in electric wire clusters, interrupting each other. Monkeys passing messages no one else understood. Even rabbits in small groups — still but very much tuned in. All carrying information. All watching. All operating within some unspoken network.
It felt familiar.
That Instinct in Print
That network became the visual foundation of The Tea. The animals aren’t illustrations. They’re signals. The rabbit, the monkey, the bird, the squirrel — each one chosen not just for how it looks but for how it behaves. They don’t speak, but they’re always aware.
That’s what we wanted in our prints. Not noise. Not cuteness. But awareness.
These creatures move quietly. So do the prints. Sometimes you see them immediately. Sometimes not. But they’re always there — suggesting something, holding something.
It’s gossip, visualized. Carried in fabric, passed through pattern.
Clothes That Know Something
The silhouettes in The Tea aren’t dramatic. They’re decisive. Mesh that reveals just enough. A shirt that fits sharper than expected. A co-ord that doesn’t follow a formula. You can feel it when something is intentional — when it’s edited, when every line has a reason. That’s the energy we followed.
Each piece was designed to shift the atmosphere. Not by being loud. But by being composed. Like someone who speaks rarely but always gets quoted.
These clothes don’t ask for attention. They hold it.
Not Loud. Not Passive. Just Precise.
We’re not a brand that dresses for performance. We dress for impact.
The Tea was made for anyone who understands the difference between being seen and being observed. Who pays attention without reacting. Who walks in quietly but isn’t forgotten when they leave.
There’s a reason we didn’t chase trend cues or overbuild the details. This collection runs on restraint. It’s in the controlled contrast. The sudden sheer. The slight shift in structure. Every detail holds weight — but only if you’re paying attention.
That’s the point. The smallest details say the most.
We didn’t spill the tea. We wore it.
Built from the Way Stories Travel
What we’ve made with The Tea is a map of how stories move — from glance to glance, room to room, person to person. Some call it gossip. We see it as awareness. Information as instinct. Style as a surface for subtext.
This collection is full of pieces that walk between those lines. Not trying to explain. Just existing with clarity.
And if people talk? Let them.