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When I heard my friend was getting married, I was excited she’d found someone to do life with. That excitement quickly turned to the wedding itself - a three-day Punjabi extravaganza, full of new traditions, music, and food! Of course, I had to find an outfit (or three) to suit the occasion. As someone who didn’t own any Punjabi clothing, I had the option to buy, thrift, or rent my outfits. I did none of these. Instead, I embraced the challenge of sewing them myself. After some research, I established a goal: create a lehenga outfit and two three-piece Punjabi suits, each consisting of a top, trousers, and a dupatta. The individual garments needed to be wearable beyond the wedding, rather than existing as one-off pieces. One suit had to be blue, as it was a requirement for friends of the bride, and everything had to be completed by July. This project turned out to be a lesson in continuous improvement. This is part one of the Punjabi wedding saga: creating the tops.

The price of a metre
I started sourcing fabric in June. For the first suit, I used a soft but sturdy brown fabric I’d been gifted previously - a win for both time and budget. It quickly went downhill from there. For the second suit, I spent a few weeks visiting stores and markets across London and the surrounding areas, with no clear idea whether I would find the right material. It wasn’t until the last day of searching that I found the perfect fabric for the suit: a blue patterned material. Along the way, I picked up other fabrics as potential options and supporting pieces, including navy tulle with pearls, grey stretch jersey, and denim-coloured washed linen. By the time I factored in the pattern, calico, and trim, the total came to just over £100. This was expensive. I’d bought materials as potential options, knowing they might not all be used for this specific project. Much of this came down to inexperience. I hadn’t shopped for fabric in this way before, so I relied heavily on online recommendations while trying to make use of local markets. Because fabric stock changes quickly, and I couldn’t visit all the stores in person, research and sourcing ended up happening simultaneously. That overlap made the process inefficient and contributed to both the time spent searching and the overall cost.

Ultimately, I consider this time and expense as R&D. One might ask, “Could you have found these outfits on Vinted for less?” Possibly. But being a DIY fashion enthusiast means prioritising skill-building and experience over short-term cost savings. Now that I’ve learned where to shop, I expect to spend far less time searching in future projects. I also don’t factor the cost of my time into making. I create for the love of the game, and if I didn’t, the numbers would be hard to justify!

Try and try again
Production started in June and finished the day before the wedding. There was supposed to be ample time to create without a last minute rush - oh, how wrong was I! A big contributor was the number of toiles I made. The first toile for the top came out too large, so I made a second for a better fit, mocking up one side with a sleeve and the other without. Because I was making two tops, I was able to implement lessons from the first into the second. For the brown suit, I opted for sleeves, but these came out tight due to a drafting mistake: I trimmed the sleeve to match armhole exactly, without allowing for ease. I thought the gathering from excess fabric would appear at the seam line, but this is not the case. At the time, I likely assumed the pattern was wrong, when in reality I was learning a fundamental sewing lesson that isn’t always obvious to a beginner’s eye. In the rush to finish, I skipped the step of closing the shoulder seam with buttons. I had no experience creating buttonholes and little time to learn, so I sewed the flap closed instead. Fortunately, the remaining detail still looked intentional, and the compromise didn’t detract from the overall design. I wore the brown top on day one, and given the heat, decided not to add sleeves to the blue suit for day two. I’d already cut out the pattern pieces for both tops, so this change wasn’t exactly by the book, but didn’t negatively affect the fit.

I also noticed how other women were able to comfortably tuck their dupattas into their suits thanks to slits down the side of the tops. I implemented this feature in the blue top by stopping the side seam a few inches above the hem. As a result, day two’s outfit was much more comfortable to wear. Both tops were finished with trim at the hem, adding an extra touch of flair. I styled the brown suit with a pink chiffon dupatta, and the blue suit with the grey jersey.

Reflections and next steps
Overall, I am happy with how these tops turned out. The boxy tunic shape left little room for error, and the tops flowed and look comfortable. Compliments from the bride reassured me that I blended in nicely with the style of Punjabi clothing. There was so much inspiring fashion at the wedding, and contributing my own designs to that environment was wonderful. Looking ahead, I plan to make a few adjustments, so the tops are more wearable for everyday use. For the brown top, I may remove the sleeves and possibly the trim. For the blue top, I’d like to cinch the waist to create a more dress-like silhouette. I also plan to redo the seams on both tops for a cleaner, more professional finish. 

Many of the decisions I made while creating the tops were happening alongside the trousers, with fit, comfort and adaptability guiding both processes. Click here for part two, where you can see how I created the trousers!