Anchal Notani,
Two Extra Lives, Founder
Mumbai
My interview with Anchal Notani hardly felt like an interview. Apart from the fact that I was the one mainly asking questions and she was answering them, the few hours we spent together were akin to meeting a stranger at a house party and proceeding to pour your inner thoughts out to them. “Everything that we have just discussed is something I may tell two per cent of the people I encounter,” she told me, as we sipped on coffee and shared a piece of cake on the balcony behind her store, Two Extra Lives, amidst potted plants, creeping vines and a motley arrangement of handcrafted cups, glasses and carafes. I’ll admit that I was expecting our conversation to purely centre around the fashion industry, perhaps touch upon her take on the state of unsustainable production methods, the intense consumerism associated with it or what her curated list of designers are doing that’s better. But we discussed so much more…from unpacking our personal relationship with money and growing distaste for too much of it to our shared anxieties about the true, often ignored, cost of capitalism in cities.
But even without speaking to her, there is so much one can glean about Notani’s attempt to create a truly different space for her community from how she designed Two Extra Lives. Be it the packaging made from leaves, not unlike the kind we used to see in temples before plastic disposables became ubiquitous, or the books and artworks she strategically displays amidst the clothing and accessories as if to subliminally offer her critical analysis of the Anthropocene.
It might seem incongruous for a store aiming to bring the perils of overconsumption to the forefront to consistently use a social media platform like Instagram whose algorithm feeds us with content that fuels consumption. “You are here to live. Not to earn, not to stress, not to prove, not to work yourself to the bone, not even to please. Just to live,” she posted just the other day. Notani is sincere in her efforts to create awareness by commanding our attention in the spaces — be it on social media or those associated with the fashion industry specifically — where we naturally gravitate towards consumption as we are constantly solicited by brands.
Creating Spaces is a series where Verve spotlights women working on community-driven creative projects across the realms of food, sports, healthcare, parenthood, art, design and fashion. Each one has created a unique space, be it virtual or physical, while also challenging institutions and changing mindsets.
Through exclusive interviews and shoots, we delve into the motives that drive these women, their reflections on the influence their work has on their communities, and how their practices address the larger challenges facing urban Indian society.
Excerpts from the interview with Anchal Notani…
What was your relationship with fashion while growing up?
My mother was quite fashionable — before my parents had a love marriage. But after their wedding, my grandmother asked her to tear all her clothes and dress simpler in the house. So growing up, my exposure to fashion was in the small ways that my mother circumvented the rules of what we were allowed to wear by dressing me up more uniquely than other kids. I only got those little glimpses into her style, but we never really spoke about it in terms of her making me into a fashionable person. And personally, I was always very utilitarian.
By the time I had to choose a career, I had been influenced enough by Bollywood and television to want to study fashion. But even then I had zero exposure to that world, having lived in Kolhapur. Nobody in my family was exposed to any kind of creative career. My ancestors came from Pakistan and there was a lot of trauma from setting up a new life and surviving. Their life has been about making sure that everyone is getting fed and is well. I was also unaware of what I could pursue in fashion. Fashion designing was the only thing that I thought you could do so that is the course I signed up for.
It was at college (FAD International Academy in Pune) that I dove deep into researching my culture. In my second year, we had to pick and learn an Indian craft from a particular region and then make a collection. Since my parents didn’t allow me to go anywhere but home, I had to choose Kolhapur, which of course is famous for its leather chappals. The leather isn’t traditionally suited for garments. I visited the homes of multiple artisans and I observed the way that they treat leather. From those embossing techniques, I made a range of leather accessories and even a few jackets. A few delegates from the University of Nottingham were visiting our college, and they found my work, which was on display, interesting. I was out on a lunch break at the time and by the time I had returned, they had offered me admission into their Masters in Fashion programme in the UK, directly after my second year of undergraduate studies.
I took that opportunity because I wasn’t enjoying fashion designing so much, and I wanted to use my time abroad to get an overview of the world of fashion. There, I chose to study luxury fashion brand management. Ironically, it was a lot of theory, which I’m not good at. So I failed the course and moved back to India in 2017. I was 22 then and my parents wanted me to get married, but I rebelled and came to Mumbai.
Tell us about making the move to Mumbai.
It wasn’t a very happy time for me. I was confused and overwhelmed about what I wanted to do in fashion. When I moved, I needed a job to survive in the city. One of my friends sent me a photographer’s Facebook post looking for a stylist. I neither knew what the job entailed nor did I personally follow his work, but he was working with celebrities and I thought this could be my break in the industry. As it turns out, the job was basically that of a glorified delivery person. After two months of picking up and dropping off clothes, I told him to hire someone else because I was looking for a more creative role. He then told me about the concept of a test shoot, that it was a chance for me to take creative control, and that if I was truly talented he would like to see it.
I booked two models and sourced pieces from multiple places including small designers, and Bandra-based boutiques, some of which aren’t even open any more, the wardrobes of friends and family. We were both surprised by how well the shoot turned out. Neither of us had realised my potential. Eight magazines picked up that shoot, and he got a lot of recognition for it. But I did end up leaving because finally, I discovered that styling was what I wanted to do. I was very clear that I didn’t want to assist because I wanted to see what it would be like to start something of my own.
I did suffer from mild depression for a year during this time. And then somehow I think that depression made me reflect on my life, which birthed ideas and concepts. After setting out on my own, I messaged a lot of photographers on Instagram asking if I could share some concepts and shoot with them. I wanted to connect with new creatives who were looking to do some collaborative work. At one point, I was reaching out to 50 people in a day. I enjoyed that process. I started putting up collaborative work and a lot of people got in touch for commercial projects.
I remember one day I was sitting in a neighbourhood bar and I got a call that Manish Malhotra’s assistant had recommended me for their shoot. Their stylist had left suddenly and it was an urgent requirement. That shoot went exceptionally well. The director happened to be one of the most reputed creative directors in India, and he was surprised to know that I had pulled off a shoot of this scale without much prior experience. That was a good break for me. After that, the growth happened really fast.
You stumbled into styling and then became independent. How did you find your creative voice?
I think going through my fair share of mature life experiences early on made me resilient to hardship, and that fuelled me creatively. Growing up, I had no idea that I was creatively inclined. But as I started to shoot, I saw clothes as my paint and the model as my canvas. A lot of my process is to intuitively pick things and build upon the previous element until it comes together. I don’t always know what the end result is going to be, I’m sort of scribbling until I begin to see a final picture.
My newfound independence also allowed me to start travelling. Being on the road and noticing how people dress has been its own kind of education. Because fashion for me was always very functional, I’m still interested in seeing how people layer their clothes in their everyday lives. For example, a woman working on a construction site might wear a sari with her husband’s shirt on top, so that nothing is exposed. Even the way I see prints coming together in different regions has been inspiring.
I did styling on my own for four years. Then, once my briefs became about styling in a trendy way, I began to find fashion dull. I was invested in the art and utility of it but, for me personally, being fashionable was neither important nor interesting. My inspiration came only from the realities of life, and nothing is more real than climate change. I began to look into documentaries and analogue photography a lot more. These issues began to affect me so much that there was a constant voice in my head telling me that fashion is the least important thing. I was in the belly of the beast, the fashion industry, and it felt like we were all being delusional. These feelings poured into my shoots, and they were well received but it didn’t feel right.
Were you having conversations about climate change and the issues surrounding it with your colleagues at the time?
Every time I tried to speak about it, it was perceived as a great concept and not much else. They were not as affected by it as I was. Most people would say things like, “Oh, you’re interesting.” Or, “The concept’s interesting.” Or, “Your work is like a breath of fresh air.” Everything I said was just becoming “interesting” but nobody really cared about these issues at a deeper level. Despite doing well in my career and making the money that I wanted to, I found myself disillusioned.
How did that disillusionment lead to Two Extra Lives?
I decided to leave Mumbai and travel through Himachal Pradesh; these were places that I had frequently spent time in. But then I saw the destruction there. The places that I used to live in were struggling to keep up with the rapid changes that ill-planned “development” was bringing about. But me coming to this beautiful landscape and cribbing about it wasn’t a solution either. I wanted to be effective.
Environmentalists and activists are going to jail and risking their lives, but nothing is coming out of it because the world is so complex. So my biggest question was, where should I place myself in all of this? I realised that I had to use what I knew best. I know what the styling industry is missing. There is a big void that needs to be filled by people who are actually ethical. People care about fashion but they don’t always dig deep into the values behind it so my idea was to speak their language but change the narrative. That’s when the idea to open a store with unique pieces that are not available elsewhere came to me.
Aditi, who was assisting me in my styling career, came on board. She did the initial research while I created the interiors. Six months in we were still not stocked. The designers we had spoken to were taking their own time to commit or give us wholesale prices because we had no existence on social media and no proof of concept. It was still just a vision in a presentation that I had made. Eventually, of course, they all started committing to us.
How did the concept for the space come together?
I was very clear that I wanted to target those who could afford to be part of the solution. I thought, let’s put their money to better use. I was willing to compromise and live in the city if it meant that I could create a community and change a few people’s mindsets. I also wanted this to be a space for artists who were not getting the exposure they deserved. I envisioned a place that allows you to disconnect from the city while grounding you.
During my travels to Scotland, I came across this book, Save the Humans, which you will find displayed at the store. It has a lot of statements about the Anthropocene, and about how humans have come to serve destruction. One of them reads: “Video games ruined your life. Good thing you have two extra lives.” So that’s where the name came from because it is a sarcastic business. It also fits the retail concept because everything here is available to rent as well as to buy. The whole idea is to consume less. In fact, initially, this was just a rental concept, but because so many people visited from outside of Mumbai, I had to include a buying module.
Talk us through your process of finding and setting up the space.
I always knew that I wanted to be in Bandra because it feels like the centre of Mumbai. I love old structures so I wanted an old house, to prevent it from going into redevelopment. The space itself fell into my hands serendipitously. I was actually finalising another place close to Subko, but it wasn’t even close to as charming as this is. I was on my way, with the deposit money in my hand, sitting in a rickshaw, and my realtor friend called me saying, “Listen, you're on your way, right? Can you just stop at this one place and have a look? It’s just come up.” When I stepped into this space I knew this was it. Closing the deal had its own challenges because I was competing with a much bigger streetwear brand as well as a spa, both of which were willing to pay more for it. My budget was limited but I spoke to the owner and convinced her of my vision. Miraculously, she believed in me and chose to go with the lower rent.
I got the place in May 2023 and began setting it up right after. It's a 150-year-old house and it took me six months to figure it out. Throughout this process, I was only using the minimal interior experience I had from designing my own home, an old cottage in Chuim village that I had been very lucky to find. That had given me a little confidence while I was designing the store myself.
The flooring was my favourite feature even when I first saw the space so I have not changed it a single bit, including the broken tiles. My initial concept was to make the entire space feel like a cave inspired by the ones I used to visit in Himachal. There used to be doors where the arches now are. I wanted to create a very dramatic doorway into each section of the space so the cave detail that I had in mind finally materialised there. When I was in Himachal, I actually got my hands dirty collecting cow dung and mud and doing a lepai or plaster on the walls of my friends’ houses. That was a peaceful experience that always stayed with me. I replicated that process with plaster of Paris in the store; our walls are finished by hand. It gives the space that sense of grounding.
In terms of the visual merchandise, I went back to the cultural influences that have stayed with me through the years. For example, the matkas (earthen pots) we use to display hats are those super utilitarian objects that are so rooted in Indian culture. I have always seen them as characters, or human figures. They became my mannequins. I was also very clear on what I wanted to do in terms of bringing sarcasm into the visual experience. So, on the walls behind the racks, there are paintings that appear as you browse through the clothes. One painting shows a bulldozer picking up a brain as a depiction of how destructive capitalism can be. So while customers are looking at the beautiful clothes, I want them to have this moment of realisation. The furniture and hangers are all made from waste wood by a Konkan man who actually runs a print shop and does this as a hobby. I have also displayed antiques in the space. I have always wished that I was not a part of this generation, that I had been born earlier, and I've always been an antique collector. When I was doing up my house, I saw rich people bargain with antique sellers in Chor Bazaar and Oshiwara, but they wouldn’t do that in a fancy place in Colaba. So I went back to my suppliers and told them, “I have a fancy place now, why don't you give me your things, and I will sell them for you at the price that you want to sell them for.” I don’t charge them any commission.
How do you curate the items available in the store?
We put in a lot of research before representing designers. It is through my love for travel that I discover artists and I’m doing it very organically and slowly. I go see how the designers actually make the clothes, visit their workshops, stay with them for a bit, and only then do I bring them to India. I also collect a lot of vintage. Most of my time in the business is spent having conversations and building relationships with artists and designers whom I want to represent. I’m mainly interested in knowing why they do what they do, and what drives them to create. It’s not enough for me that they’re creative. Are you creating sustainable jobs for the people producing the work? A lot of the designers create their own textiles from waste, which is great. All these designers are producing on a very small scale. I’m not interested in sourcing from only Indian designers. To me, it’s all one. We’re all fighting for one planet, so why not have a global conversation?
Each piece is unique…
That's where the styling comes in. I saw a huge gap in terms of the diversity of aesthetics of sustainable clothing in India. Everything ends up looking similar. In the past, when I had a brief that required me to reference street style or hip hop, for example, I was limited to sourcing from a very small pool of designers, which the other stylists were also sourcing from. That needs to shift. There are many good stylists in the country, but they are very limited in what they can create because a certain homogeneity has crept into designs that are available to us. I can make these amazing, fancy mood boards, but I can't actually create these looks because these things are not available in India.
How was the concept of the store received when you first opened? What kind of customers have you been able to attract?
Everyone who came into the store initially said that it looked like a museum. At first, I was flattered by this, but then I realised that people were getting so overwhelmed by seeing so many good things in one place, that they didn’t know what to pick up. I have now made it more friendly and approachable. I had to make it less interesting! I think the biggest drawback of the store is that it can be intimidating. People in India are very indecisive when it comes to fashion. They can’t always place themselves in the garment or they don't always know what to pair with what so the challenge is to help them visualise a full look. I have started to place shoes and accessories with the garments to suggest pairings.
We’ve had people coming in from the ages of 15 to 60. A lot of them visit frequently as well. The ones who buy are definitely affluent, which is great because then I’m targeting the right people. I have spent zero money on marketing so far but somehow, a few bloggers discovered us and made reels in the store. I didn’t even know that they had come in and made content which went viral. Already people are calling it a hidden gem, which is funny to me. I don’t want it to be hidden. I’m paying so much for the location on a main road in Bandra!
What is your intent with the Instagram account? Despite running a store, you are consistently communicating the problems of consumption.
I manage the Instagram account by myself and I want it to be in my authentic voice. Even with the store, my friends say ‘This is you in a space’. I see our social media account as the red cloth for the bull. I want to show clothes that you desire. Then I will show you something else that you're not always looking at. So, again, I use fashion to get people’s attention. I’m soon going to be launching a series called Info Disco, a weekly news channel, where I will present facts about the environment that aren’t being covered by mainstream news, but not in a very serious way. Everyone just wants to avoid being intense or too serious. Okay, cool. So then we’ll approach it that way. And we also plan on hosting a monthly underground party with a proper DJ, and a display of things I want to make people aware of, a projection of habitat loss, for example.
Tell us about the community you have cultivated through initiatives like the Satsang gatherings.
Mumbai is called a cultural melting pot but so much of our culture is still inaccessible here. People from the industry want to be hip and cool; they never want to speak in Hindi, or sit down on the floor and just do things that are most natural to us. The fashion and music communities often attend the same parties but who is listening to Indian folk music?
My friends and I were on a road trip through Rajasthan and I remember we had stopped overnight at a village. I was running a high fever. With nothing to do, we decided to crash a local wedding that happened to be in the family of a musician called Gaza Khan. The women were seated in the house and the men were outside in the verandah, which was set up with an amazing sound system. We realised that we had walked into a scene amongst so many talented folk and classical artistes, some of whom I would listen to on YouTube. I have never heard better music in my life than I did on this random night! I knew I had to experience something like that again.
My grandmother, when she was alive, would host a satsang in our house every month for the ladies. In my head, people in Mumbai are too cool to do a satsang, so that’s exactly what I wanted them to experience. For our first satsang, I invited the Manganiar artist Rais Khan to Two Extra Lives. He has performed with the Rolling Stones. I was introduced to him through friends who were learning to play the morchang from him and we have since become close friends. We installed red lights everywhere in the store, and put up drapes to resemble the dunes in Rajasthan. My mother made modak with pure ghee and nachni and we served the snacks in silver crockery, and thandai to drink. On another platter, we passed around bidis and rolled cigarettes. There were mattresses on the floor and mogras and roses everywhere. Instead of giving visitors a band to wear at the entrance, we put alta (red dye) on their hands. We also had a man, surrounded by fabric, tying turbans on the attendees. It felt special to do things that are only reserved for weddings now.
It was important to me to host these community gatherings, and not just get caught up in selling clothes because one thing that I've learned is that even Two Extra Lives can be a delusion and I want to stay liberated from that. The best things have happened to me organically when I have zero expectations and I want to continue to live my life that way.
What is your idea of success?
This is a question I ask myself often. I feel that ambition is conditioned and I’ve let go of it. I think I hit my midlife crisis at 27. I feel like my work now is a way to pass this time between life and death. But I’m not attached to outcomes. I mean, no matter how badly I want to save the planet, nature will take its course. There is nothing that motivates me to be in the city. I'm just doing my bit. There is no metric of success that I’m chasing. Money doesn't matter at all. It’s the biggest illusion, right?
What is your relationship with money?
My relationship with money is one of survival. I take what I need to cover my basics of food and shelter. My company is a private limited company but I’m the only one who doesn’t take a salary. Everyone else does. Why do we need money? I don't want a fancy car. I don't want a fancy house. I don't want anything. All I want is to be surrounded by beautiful landscapes and trees.
There is a dissonance in my chosen lifestyle because I run a business in Mumbai, but I hate being in the city. I fight with myself, every single day, just to be here because I don’t like the air, I don’t like the food, I don’t like much about it, at all. When I’m in town, I’m either at home or at the store. I’ve made it a rule for myself and my employees that we all visit the farmers market on Sundays and I am trying to build it into the work culture of the store. We take as many holidays as we want. We haven’t set unrealistic targets of growth or scale for the store and since the beginning it has been doing well enough to sustain itself without us having to compromise our peace of mind or quality of life.
Would you say this is a viable business model to those who wonder whether it is pure luck or your privilege that has made Two Extra Lives possible? What are the challenges you face?
I would definitely say that managing people is very complicated. Each individual has different expectations and needs. We all have personal lives or health issues that need to be considered. It is a challenge to be understanding but also to motivate everyone.
It’s not easy to profit from a business while also trying to be perfectly ethical, because when you’re taking care of everything, growth is not going to happen very fast. For example, three out of six people are going to be sick every other day because of the city that we live in, or the air that we breathe. People have spoken about the cost of climate change and it is real. Things get cancelled, flights get delayed. Once you are accepting of all of this, I think you can be at peace or design more viable business models.
And yes, it takes a lot of privilege to be able to do this. But to anyone, at any economic level, I would say it’s better to pick the simplest life for yourself and just be happy in it rather than chasing something unattainable and letting it drive you mad.
At the links below read more from the Creating Spaces series:
Radha Lath Gupta, She Talks Ball, Founder
Shruti Taneja, Nivaala, Founder
Shweta Pai, Muuyee, Founder
Payal Shah, Kobo Fermentary, Founder
