Date Collected: 04/30/2026
Context:
My informant is a good friend of mine who immigrated from Bangladesh for his college education. He was telling me about the story of a legendary fabric from his hometown, Dhaka, Bangladesh. He told me when we were hanging out outside of the USC Fisher Museum of Art.
Text:
Me: Okay. So you were telling me a little bit about back home in Dhaka, that’s where the muslin fabric comes from. Right?
EJ: Yeah, thats where its from. There used to be like this whole area kind of like the Arts District in LA like a municipality where they would make this cotton fabric. It’s unique because it was so thin, they called the skill “weaving air” because it was so light and thin, and that’s like one of the things that we’re very proud of culturally. They used to be able to weave it so tight the thread counts were really high. You could fold it up into a matchbox.
Me: You told me earlier that they don’t make it the same anymore right? Can you talk a little more about that.
EJ: Yeah for sure.. I don’t know the whole story, but I just know that it originates from Bangladesh. Dhaka is exactly where it comes from. Dhaka used to be like a hub of culture and and money and then in about sometime in like whenever, the the English colonized it. They took the fabric for their royalty. The royalty and wealthy used to wear this in Bangladesh. The English took it and brought it back home and they cut off the hands of the weavers who would make this fabric.
Me: Jesus. Why do you think they’d do that?
EJ: I think they just didn’t want people who were wearing the same things as their royalty.
Me: Yeah, that sounds like the English hahaha. So there’s no more muslin makers in Dhaka.
EJ: No, not like that. The old ways were lost. After loosing their hands, they couldn’t make any anymore, so they retired and the art was lost.
Me: But, is it extinct?
EJ: No, there’s new places that make them still by hand. But it can’t fit into a matchbox and isn’t the same. They can’t do the same techniques.
Me: Do you have any in your family, or have you seen it before?
EJ: No, I don’t think we have any. But, I’ve been to weddings and they have it there.
Me: That sounds like a terrible thing to accidentally misplace. Oh also earlier you were also showing me that Instagram reel that was kind of showing appreciation for Bangladeshi culture, right? Like how it’s reflected in modern life and also in the future.
EJ: Yeah, yeah, that reel was kind of just talking about how the muslin was used on the first airplane that the Wright brothers flew, and also on the Artemis II, which is really cool.
Me: How do you feel about seeing part of your culture being used by other people? Is it like something that makes you happy or a little upset?
EJ: You know, it’s really cool to see Bangladeshi culture being represented, especially on huge moments in like this.
Me: Yeah, I can imagine there’s a lot of pride in that, cause I mean, this is essentially the future of humanity, and your culture is playing a huge role in that. Man might not have been able to fly or land on the moon if it weren’t for those weavers and your culture’s history.
EJ: Exactly.
Analysis:
I did a quick search to see what is true, and what might be more folklore from the story. From what I could tell, Dhaka is genuinely one of the most impressive textiles ever made. The Wright brothers did not use any Dhaka Muslin; they used an “Americanized” version that was derived from the impressive tradition. The muslin used on the Wright brothers’ plane was taken to the Moon by Neil Armstrong and later to Mars by the Ingenuity rover.
What might be more folkish is that the Wright brothers did not actually use Dhaka’s muslin. Also, the hand-cutting story is not historically verified, but that doesn’t mean it never happened. What is true is the major damage done to the Bangladeshi people as a result of the English colonists.
The history of muslin reflects the beauty and majesty of old Bangladesh. As my friend mentioned, it thrived culturally and economically. Then the English East India Company came and colonized the country. In the process, many fine folk arts were lost. The story of the cutting of hands might be true, but whether it is literal or not, the imagery is symbolic for what the English colonization of Bangladesh did to the Bengali people. The cutting of their hands represents the stripping of culture, practices, and traditions. The legend of cutting hands doesn’t have to be historically accurate to be insightful and meaningful. It is a way to deal with the loss of identity as well. Hands are essential for making a living; they hold our fingerprints and identity. When the English “cut off” their hands, they were cutting off the ability to live and continue as they had before.
My friend had pride in saying that you could fold a full muslin outfit into a matchbox size. The image is impressive and impossible, showing the value of the golden pre- colonial era. The pride in calling it “woven air” seems to stand in for the old ways as a whole. Traditions were lost; they weren’t all perfect, but they were irreplaceable and, most importantly, they were Bangladesh’s. The fact that no one has ever been able to accurately replicate the hand-woven artistry of Dhaka’s weavers once again communicates that something irreplaceable was lost when Bangladesh was colonized.
It’s an interesting choice in story to tell me. I had been asking him for examples of Bangladeshi culture, foods, festivals, stories, jokes, sayings, and more. From all of them, he told me this one, which is quite interesting. When he first told me, he made sure to mention the impact he learned from the Instagram reel. That THIS is his culture and it had an undeniable impact on human history. He didn’t have to explain what the muslin meant culturally, and I didn’t necessarily even need to understand. The story communicates Bangladeshi pride in a way that anyone can understand and appreciate.
Looking at the full arc is quite interesting too. We saw a folk art that was a people’s pride that got stolen by outsiders and used to dress their royalty. The creators were no longer able to make it, and the tradition seemed lost. But centuries later, it was brought into the limelight as part of humanity’s journey into space. The story reframes the tragedy and pain into a story of how Bangladesh made something that monumentally changed human history forever.
