A ragdolls to riches tale: Feminist icons get a new avatar, in Kodaikanal

It started, as so many adventures do, with a hunt for a good tailor. Smriti Lamech, 42, had moved to from Gurgaon to Kodaikanal, Tamil Nadu, with her husband in February.

Their new house needed cushion covers, so she went looking for someone who would re-purpose leftover fabric. What she found instead, in the local market, was a women’s self-help group called Prowess.

India was in lockdown by then and the women were struggling. “They told me they didn’t have any work,” Lamech says. She tried using her interests in hand-embroidery and vintage textiles to help them create face masks and torans. But she knew that to get for a new project to really click, it would need to be unusual.

“I finally decided on ragdolls,” says Lamech. “It’s something I miss from my childhood. I had one handmade by an aunt. It took her five months to make and in Allahabad where I grew up, getting one was a very big thing. As my daughter was growing up, I wished I could give her one like that, but I could never find a good one,” Lamech says.

In 2020, Lamech knew, the dolls would have to hold their own against action figures, Lego blocks and other new-fangled distractions. “How am I going to compete with a Wonder Woman?” Lamech wondered. A onetime journalist and vocal feminist, she then had the idea for a line of heroine ragdolls.

The dolls are faceless but, sewn into each are elements that help you recognise at once the iconic women they represent. Mexican painter Frida Kahlo sports a mantilla, flowers in her hair, and the iconic brows. Indian-origin American astronaut Kalpana Chawla is in a hand-knitted helmet and orange space suit. American poet and civil rights activist Maya Angelou gets a black dress and bright headwrap. You’ll identify Indian social reformer and educationist Savitribai Phule right away from her red bindi, nauvari-style sari and knitted book.

Each doll comes with a letter introducing the woman represented, her work and her life.

Making the template was serious business. Lamech drew on all of her elementary Tamil to get the dozen women at Prowess to create the prototype. It had to be slim enough to hold, with arms long enough for children to flap around, and features striking enough that they’d spark a sense of pride in ownership. “Because we work with locally sourced fabrics, the dolls aren’t all identical,” Lamech says. The outfits might differ too, for the same reason.

The first dolls went on sale in September via Lamech’s Facebook page (The Smritsonian), WhatsApp and Instagram. Prices start at Rs 1,500 and they’ve become collectibles for grown-ups too. “I never thought so many people from all over the country would appreciate our work. It feels very gratifying,” say S Jenifer, 40, one of the women with Prowess.

Among the happy grown-up customers is Anchal Tyagi, 38, a writer from Delhi who bought the Frida Kahlo and Savitribai Phule dolls for her fiver-year-old a month ago. “I got to know about them from Facebook,” she says. “Even if I didn’t have a child, I would have got them. They’re one of a kind. From the crochet to the piping on the sari, everything is beautiful.”

She also finds them child-friendly. “The Savitribai doll comes with a book, Kahlo comes with a palette. My daughter and I read a lot of stories about people who broke the mould. It’s great to have a doll to play and sleep with who reminds you of a real-life person who made a difference.”