PADMA YANGCHAN + NAMZA COUTURE

Portrait of the designer, courtesy of Namza Couture.

Padma Yangchan (b. 1991) is a fashion designer and owner of Namza Couture and Namza Dining, both dedicated to celebration of Ladakhi culture. Yangchan previously worked as a stylist in London, Delhi and Mumbai, before returning to her home region and launching Namza Couture with Jigmet Disket in 2016. The fashion house presented its collections at London Fashion Week, publications such as Grazia International, among others.

LUCIJA ŠUTEJ: I hoped to open the conversation with the origin of your fashion house rooted in Ladahki culture and the inspiration for the name: Namza Couture. And to also clarify for the readers, Namza Couture works in parallel to Namza Dining in Leh, focused on distinct Ladakhi cuisine. 

PADMA YANGCHAN: Namza Couture—the word Namza is an honorific term for a garment in Ladakhi and also Namza means weather. So, we have Namza Dining as well as Namza Couture, which reinterprets our region’s textiles and dress traditions. Both branches preserve, document, and celebrate Ladakh’s heritage in contemporary contexts.

LŠ: Did you always plan to have both fashion and cuisine as two equal focuses of the business?

PY: Not at all. I was working as a stylist in New Delhi and Mumbai and I didn’t imagine starting something in Ladakh — one of the most remote places you could think of. But my passion for food drew me home. 

At first, I thought of only focusing on Namza Dining. Behind our store, there was a huge farm—a beautiful spot—so we thought, Why not open a café? That’s how the whole story started. I was already working on reviving Ladakhi craft and architecture, and cuisine felt like a natural continuation. When I began researching Ladakhi cuisine, I was surprised to find that it wasn’t documented. So, I traveled to remote villages, collecting oral recipes. Eventually, we combined both—craft and cuisine—into curated experiences.

LŠ: Ladakh was once a part of the Silk Road. 

PY: Yes, however after the Silk Road ended, Ladakh became very secluded. There was no proper infrastructure—no roads. From November to May, the region is essentially cut off from the world because temperatures drop to extremely cold -40°C. There’s no vegetation, so survival was always the main focus of the population. Nobody had the time or resources to document culture, traditions, or food.

That’s why I decided to come back and do this research into our culture. When people think of pashmina, they often think of Kashmir, but the finest pashmina actually comes from Ladakh. The quality of the material requires high altitudes. Historically, we had a treaty with the Mughals that said all pashmina would go to Kashmir, not Ladakh. After the treaty ended, local artisans never saw pashmina as a luxury product—they only supplied raw material. It took time to educate local artisans about the value of their work. 

In summer, we have vegetation, but in winter, there’s nothing. People would gather to drink tea, and pass time by weaving and spinning—but they never thought of selling their fabrics. Now, Namza works with around 60 weavers and spinners who work remotely from their homes. We send them samples, and they produce at their own pace.

Courtesy of Namza, images by Avani Rai.

LŠ: Namza Couture was established with Jigmet Disket - how did you meet and what vision brought you together towards Namza? 

PY: Jigmet has a biotech background, and I studied sociology and fashion. We’ve been friends for a long time. One day, she called me and said, I’m planning to work on something—would you design for me? (laughs) At the time, I wasn’t in Ladakh, but I returned, and we started researching local histories and crafts together. Initially, I had a different concept, and she had hers, but we merged them. I never thought I’d focus on pashmina, but it became central to our work.

LŠ: Your materials are all natural—silks, cottons, pashmina. How do you source them?

PY: Yes and I’m one of the few designers who sources everything from scratch. For pashmina, we go to Changthang, where the nomads rear goats. We get raw material from them, then process it in-house—spinning, weaving, and natural dyeing. For dyes, we always use local herbs, roots, and flowers—nettle, rhubarb, walnut husks. Even in our restaurant, ingredients like nettle are used in traditional soups, while the same plant dyes our fabrics.

LŠ: What are traditional colours from Ladakh and how did you want to expand the palettes? 

PY: Traditionally, colours come from what’s available locally: earthy browns, muted yellows from walnut husks, deep reds from madder root, soft greys from rhubarb, and the natural cream of pashmina.

For Namza Couture, I wanted to preserve this grounding in nature but expand it, adding Ladakhi sky blue, salt lake pinks, high-altitude moss greens, and deep twilight indigo. It’s still rooted in the land, but broader in scope.

Courtesy of Namza, images by Avani Rai.

LŠ: Could you tell us more of the dying techniques applied to pashminas  and silks?  

PY: We hand-dye in small batches to preserve softness and colour integrity. For pashmina, the process is slow and controlled; for silks, however, we use immersion dyeing and resist techniques, often layering colours for depth. All mordants are natural — alum, iron — and sourced locally where possible.

LŠ: How do the local communities across Ladakh influence the materials and collections? 

PY: Completely. Our artisans carry generations of knowledge, and their seasonal rhythms from nomadic migrations to farming cycles shape when and how materials are processed. Many of our motifs come directly from village weaving patterns, architectural details or personal stories.

LŠ: Also many of your collections are live archives - distinct references to garments such as the traditional Ladakhi dress, called Goncha, made of wool, velvet, or other materials. How did you want to reframe historic references? 

PY: The Goncha is a full-sleeved wool or velvet robe, designed for warmth and modesty. I retain its structure but experiment with proportion, layering, and texture. Sometimes we work in silk or pashmina, with embroidery inspired by Tibetan, Chinese, or Central Asian motifs from the Silk Route. The aim is to keep it relevant while honouring its origin.

LŠ: As someone who is central to presenting Ladakhi fashion, do you see any traditional techniques of textile production at risk of being lost?

PY: Yes, mainly due to a lack of people to carry them forward. Ladakh’s population is small, and many young people leave for education and don’t return. Handloom work is time-intensive, one pashmina shawl can take a year, so faster, cheaper fabrics tempt them away. Our mission is to change that mindset: craft is couture, and every piece holds the story of its maker. 

Courtesy of Namza, images by Avani Rai.

LŠ: What’s next for Namza Couture?

PY: We’re working on a dedicated marketplace for Ladakhi artisans. Many currently earn more from goat milk than from pashmina, despite its global value. We aim to train them in branding, quality control, and direct buyer connections, with government support for community infrastructure. If craft becomes a viable livelihood, artisans will choose to stay, ensuring our heritage endures.