What it is

Eri is silk from Samia ricini, a silkworm native to the hills and plains of Northeast India — Assam, Meghalaya, Arunachal Pradesh, Nagaland, and Manipur. The name comes from the Assamese word era, meaning castor: the silkworm feeds primarily on the leaves of the castor plant, which has shaped the entire economy of this textile.

Eri is, by tradition rather than by marketing, a peace silk. The tribal and rural communities of Northeast India have always allowed the moth to emerge from its cocoon before the silk is harvested. There is no later step where this principle was added in for ethical branding — it is how the textile has been made for as long as the textile has existed. The broken cocoon fibres that remain are hand-spun (never reeled, because reeling requires a continuous filament that Eri does not produce).

How it is made

Castor plants are grown in courtyards and field margins across Northeast India. Silkworms are reared on the leaves; in roughly four to six weeks the worms spin their cocoons. The cocoons are kept until the moth emerges naturally through one end — this takes ten to fourteen days. The remaining cocoons, now hollow shells of short and broken silk fibres, are softened in warm water with wood-ash and then hand-spun on a takli (a hand-spindle) or a charkha.

Spinning Eri is patient, slow work. The fibres are short and irregular; a skilled spinner produces perhaps 100 to 150 grams of yarn in a working day. The yarn is then handwoven, often on traditional throw-shuttle or fly-shuttle handlooms. Eri remains a substantially household textile: in many Northeast Indian villages, the women of a household spin and weave Eri for the household’s own use, and only the surplus enters the market.

The hand

Warm. Substantial. People often describe Eri as feeling alive — it is closer to a fine wool than to a glossy silk in its tactile character, but with the breathability of cotton and the faint gentle lustre of silk underneath. The surface is matte, soft, slightly nubbly. It is one of the few silks that can be worn directly against the skin in cold weather without feeling slippery or cold, because it traps body heat the way wool does — but it does not itch the way wool can.

Why it is worth its price

Eri is one of the very few silks that is peace-produced by inherited practice rather than as a contemporary ethical claim. The communities who make it have always made it this way; there is no marketing layer between you and the integrity of the textile.

It is also the only silk that genuinely substitutes for wool in temperate winters, which makes it a remarkable layering cloth for Australian conditions: warm enough for July in Melbourne or June in the Snowy Mountains, breathable enough that it does not overheat in shoulder seasons. And because it is hand-spun, never reeled, every metre carries hours of human work that no machine has yet replicated.

How to care for it

• Wash: Eri actually responds well to gentle washing. Cool hand-wash with a mild detergent meant for silks or wools. No bleach, no harsh enzymes.
• Never wring. Roll the garment in a clean dry towel; press out water gently.
• Dry: lay flat to dry, in shade. Eri is heavier when wet than reeled silks; hanging it wet can distort the shape.
• Iron: on the reverse, warm, with a pressing cloth between iron and fabric, while still slightly damp.
• Storage: fold rather than hang, and always with cedar or lavender to deter moths. Eri, like any silk, is moth-vulnerable — perhaps slightly more so than reeled silks because of the irregular hand-spun fibre.
• Expect softening with every wash. The matte sheen deepens. The hand grows more pliant. Eri ages into itself.

Best worn as

Jackets, shawls, sweaters, kurtas, light winter wear, scarves. An excellent layering piece for cool weather; one of the few silks warm enough to act as a wool substitute for people who cannot wear wool. Eri holds heat without weight, which makes it ideal for travel.