The Mizo puan tells a story of migration and creativity

Stylist Nathan Lalhruaitluanga Khiangte is often homesick. To beat the blues, he spends a lot of time thinking about how to bring the design vocabulary of his native Aizawl into his work as a documentarian and fashion stylist in New Delhi. Scroll through his Instagram (@tate_nhan), and you’ll discover his experiments in integrating Zo elements—from traditional headgear to textiles—into new contexts. Central to this exploration is the puan, the traditional Zo skirt.

The puan, Mizo for ‘cloth’, holds a deep symbolism to the Zo people, a community primarily based in Mizoram and Southern Manipur in India. Much like the Scottish tartan, the varied designs symbolise different clans, ceremonies, and social occasions. A wedding might call for a ceremonial puanchei with intricate motifs, while simpler designs are worn to church or in daily life. For many, puans are deeply personal—gifted by loved ones, inherited from family members, and specially commissioned to mark a milestone.

Designer Malsawmtluangi still treasures the colourful puanchei her mother-in-law gave her on her wedding day. One of the most intricate designs, a puanchei requires the meticulous skill of seasoned artisans, whose work inspired Malsawmtluangi to start Zo Weave in 2016, a brand dedicated to reviving indigenous weaving techniques. Today, she commissions artisans from across Mizoram to bring her puan designs to life. Most of the artisans Malsawmtluangi works with are women who earn an extra income through weaving. They use a backstrap or loin hand-looms, where a strap fixed to one end of the loom is looped around the waist of the weaver, so they can use their lower body to regulate the tension of the threads; a single puan can take anywhere from three days to three weeks to complete. In comparison, a frame loom enables working on multiple puans simultaneously, but doesn’t lend the same meticulous finishing.

When Lalhruaitluanga sourced some Zo Weave along with pre-owned puans and gathered his friends—photographer Angus Guite and models Maria Guite and Prabhleen—for a photoshoot in New Delhi, he wanted to re-evaluate the puan’s significance to him as a migrant Zo creative. By styling puans alongside Zo jewellery and pieces from other homegrown brands, he recognises that his reinterpretations may challenge traditional views back home. Yet, Lalhruaitluanga views the shoot as an extension of his renewed appreciation for native textiles and his growing confidence in exercising creative license. Through his styling, the puan transcends its original context, resonating with the hybrid identities of those who, like Lalhruaitluanga, have left home in pursuit of artistic careers.

Another creative who is experimenting with the puan is Patricia Zadeng, a graduate of the National Institute of Design and founder of the label Lapâr. “Earlier, the design of puans was largely led by artisans themselves,” she tells me. “Along with encouraging traditional loom techniques and the use of organic threads, there was a need for design interventions to differentiate contemporary puans from those that people are familiar with.” Through her label, Zadeng channels her love for minimalism and passion for natural fibres like cotton and eri silk. Her latest collection features puan-blouse sets in monochrome pastel tones, but she also frequently customises puans for customers looking for more traditional motifs. Hoping to popularise daily-wear puans among the younger generation, she’s also introduced ready-to-wear versions with ties at the waist for easy wrapping.

When I question these Zo creatives on what inspires them, most echo the same sentiment: the day-to-day style of their hometowns, especially at church. The Zos take the idea of Sunday best very seriously. “Some women wear different puans to church every Sunday,” Zadeng tells me. Observing how women interpret the puan remains a creative fascination for her and the Zo design community. “I love fashion because of the women in my life—my mother, grandmother, and aunts, who loved dressing up and wearing beautiful puans,” says the photographer Guite, whose body of work revolves around memories of his hometown, Lamka, or Churachandpur, in Southern Manipur.

In an area that has seen turbulent times, the puan simultaneously represents continuity of tradition and a fascination with fashion as a personal and communal indulgence. And for the generation of creatives, at home or away, it is a canvas for experimenting with newfound sensibilities.

Hair and make-up artist: Lalrinmuana. Models: Maria Guite, Prabhleen Kaur