‘Oh, that? That seat is rope-woven by the women you saw on your drive through the village,’ Sarthak Awhad, the lodge manager, tells me as I marvel at the colourful creation I’ve just sat down on.
I’m in my room at Brij Lakshaman Sagar in Pali, rural Rajasthan, and the seat in question is hand-woven using old sarees that are torn or unwearable somehow, allowing these fabrics – having lived some of the most colourful, kaleidoscopic existences of any piece of clothing – to live another life.
This seems to be the way with luxury hotels in India, I’ve come to learn. You may have heard of farm-to-fork and 0km philosophies when talking about food sourcing, but here it seems to extend to the literal fabric these hotels are made from, and embellished with.
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At each of the five hotels I’ve spent time in across Rajasthan, I’ve been greeted first with a warm grin, followed by a story about whoever’s deft hands worked with the beautifully bright fabrics draped, wrapped and sewn throughout each space that I’m caught admiring.
‘Three filters guide every choice when it comes to our interiors – is it made within the region? Is it repairable or replaceable locally? Is it visually in dialogue with the desert stone, the sky and the seasonal colours of the landscape?’ Awhad explains.
Sourcing of things like cushions, blankets and chairs is guided by village clusters within driving distance of the property, not just as a decision to keep aesthetics true to the cultural heritage of the place, but to keep carbon and coordination efforts low.
‘Short supply chains mean faster repairs and fewer “out of order” notes for guests,’ Awhad tells me. ‘Commissions of each item are organised around artisanal calendars accounting for harvests and festivals,’ he explains.
Local makers are also used because if something breaks – for instance the weave spec of my beloved chair – any village craftsperson can re-string the seat in a few hours, so no imported webbing is required. The finish of the seats is matte and raw, so the chairs patinate with use instead of showing scuffs; a clever way of keeping furnishings feeling purposefully distressed, rather than worn out.
Practicality is at the heart of the design here. Door and drawer pulls are crafted from turned wood and forged metal by the Haripur Village workshop, their standardised sizes and use of materials that are familiar to local makers ensuring easy replacements over time.
Soft-goods trims avoid plastic toggles altogether, opting instead for fabric-on-fabric ties, loops and tabs that age gracefully and can be restitched when needed. Outdoor cushions, meanwhile, are enveloped in removable covers in robust weaves; rather than disguising the sun’s inevitable fading, the patina is embraced, with each sheath later over-dyed locally to extend their life.
The significance of these furnishings goes well beyond their local sourcing, too. The motifs woven into cushions and even the staff uniforms draw directly from Rajasthani culture: the everyday geometries of charpoy weaves, lehariya stripes, and turban checks. These references steer clear of the souvenir aesthetic and instead root the design in authentic traditions.
Even the bright silks draped across each building – those neon banners that make Brij Lakshman Sagar so distinct – are in fact safas, the traditional headgear of Rajasthan. Worn to shield shepherds from the desert sun, they also double as multipurpose cloths when resting in the fields or tending flocks.
As Awhad puts it: ‘At Lakshman Sagar, we try to let the desert lead stone for structure, handloom for touch and village craft for everything that moves, mends, or makes you smile.’
The result is a design language in harmony with its surroundings, where the colours of craft and nature converge to create a space as textured and resilient as the history it sits within. I am awestruck by the amount of thought that’s gone into each flourish of furnishing here, and Brij Lakshman Sagar is by no means alone in this.
At both The Leela Palace Jaipur and Udaipur, local heritage and artistry guide each and every design decision. At the former, architecture and atmosphere pay homage to the Pink City’s heritage, with domes, courtyards, and façades echoing the motifs of blue pottery and painted havelis – intricate, ornate mansions found across India.
At the hotel’s heart lies Mohan Mahal, an extraordinary restaurant inspired by the Sheesh Mahal at the nearby Amber Fort. Every surface is clad in thikri mirrorwork – over 35,000 tiny pieces were hand-pressed by artisans who are the direct descendants of those who created the original Sheesh Mahal, centuries ago. Their craftsmanship transforms the space into a shimmering tribute to Rajasthan’s legacy, where more than 130 candles cast a warm light that multiplies endlessly across the mirrors.
In Udaipur, I found myself instinctively scanning for signs of local craft, and The Leela Palace did not disappoint. Its Mewari-inspired architecture, with soaring domes and delicate jaali screens, creates a sense of grandeur rooted firmly in Rajasthan’s heritage, and reflects the design of the centuries-old palaces across Lake Pichola, the beating heart of this ‘City of Lakes’.
Inside, every detail continues this conversation with place: embroidered bed runners and cushions showcase Udaipur’s distinctive textile traditions, while the rare art of Tarkashi inlay – metal wires of brass, copper, or silver pressed into wood – is a considered homage to a meticulous local skill passed down through generations. It’s clear to see this is a hotel where luxury does not arrive imported, but is instead woven from the cultural fabric of the land itself, allowing guests to experience Rajasthan in both sight and soul.
What makes this commitment even more meaningful is how it extends beyond architecture and interiors into the smallest gestures, too. As we leave, we’re gifted not with generic souvenirs – my tacky fridge magnets and twee T-shirts are quaking – but with locally-made keepsakes and tokens that carry the touch of the region’s artisans.
From hand-stitched elephants to fabric coasters and cloth-bound notebooks, these mementos feel personal and authentic. They serve as a reminder that true luxury in India’s great hotels lies not only in their opulence, but in their reverence for craft and community – an ethos that allows tradition to endure while giving visitors something far more vivid than memory: a piece of place to take home.
