When I think “Madras,” I picture long summers spent on Cape Cod or in the Hamptons, Brooks Brothers suits paired with shorts, and the nonchalant attitude of East Coast elites. Madras and the preppy style are so interconnected that the textile made the cover of the book of prep. Lisa Birnbach’s The Official Preppy Handbook, a tongue-in-cheek 1980s guide to looking and acting like a prep school kid, is clad in the famed pattern. 

Madras and the preppy aesthetic are forever linked. However, this textile wasn’t dreamed up by a Manhattan designer taking a break at the country club one summer afternoon. Far from it! Madras comes from humble beginnings, and its inherent weakness almost got it pulled from American shelves. That is, until it found strength in embracing its uniqueness. 

 

And, I’m mad for it. 

 

What is Madras? 

If you’ve vacationed in the Hamptons, you already know. But if it’s been a few summers, let me refresh your memory. Madras is a lightweight cotton textile known for its bright, irregular plaid and checkered patterns. It’s soft and airy, perfect for summer. And it’s also crinkly and slightly disheveled, perfect for acting slightly nonchalant when boarding your yacht. 

 

For it to be “real” Madras, both sides of the cloth must bear the same pattern and be handwoven. This means that the more small flaws you can find, the better. Madras textiles are yarn-dyed, meaning the threads are dyed before they’re woven. They tend to sunbleach, fade, and most importantly, bleed. (But more on that later.) 

 

Where Did Madras Fabric Come From?

As I said, Madras was not born from Martha’s Vineyard or the Cape, but far from the preppy American shores. Authentic Madras comes from Chennai, India, which was formerly known as Madras during British rule. The textile was popular among Indian laborers for its lightweight, breathable nature, and it was also popular in West Africa for use in colorful wedding gowns and other celebratory garbs. 

 

No one in America was wearing Madras. That is, until textile importer William Jacobson decided to bring a massive order stateside in 1958. 

 

A Perceived Defect Turned Unique Selling Point

Indian textile mogul Captain C.P. Krishnan Nair showed William Jacobson the unique process used to create Madras. It was made using natural dyes like laterites, indigo, turmeric, and sesame seed oil — all of which gave the cloth a distinctive scent. Jacobson fell in love with the material and bought 10,000 yards on the spot, which were eventually purchased by Brooks Brothers, who would make some of the first Madras shorts, shirts, and jackets in the States.  

 

But, there was a problem. The natural dyes would bleed in every wash. 

 

And American customers were outraged to find that their multicolor plaids had faded and bled and washed out onto their laundry loads of linen. With so much Madras on hand, something had to be done to save the investment. 

 

Famed advertising executive David Ogilvy came in with an interesting approach. Turn the defect into a selling point. Or, make your weakness a strength. He coined the tagline, “Guaranteed to Bleed.” 

Madras now had a story. Every time you did the wash, you would find yourself with a brand new pattern. And the bleeding fabric fit right into the nonchalant, too-rich-to-care attitude of East Coast prepsters. (As long as they washed their Madras separate from their linen.) 

 

Becoming a Staple of the Preppy Aesthetic

After David Ogilvy reframed the narrative, Madras clothes flew off the shelves. And the lore continued to grow with an eight-page advertorial in Seventeen magazine on the “miracle handwoven fabric from India,” and another ad campaign linking Madras to Yale, the ultimate preppy Ivy. 

 

Today, Madras is still closely linked to the preppy design and fashion and remains a cornerstone textile in All-American style. All because the importers were able to showcase a unique strength in its perceived weakness. 

 

A Lesson to Be Learned: Your Strength is in Your Weakness 

Jacobson, Ogilvy, and Brooks Brothers could have all written off Madras for its color bleed, taken the loss, and moved on. However, they chose to lean into what makes this fabric so unique. And, it worked. 

The lesson here is that oftentimes, what we perceive to be our weakness is actually what sets us apart, giving us our unique edge in the market. For example, Barnes & Noble can’t compete with Amazon’s convenience of online ordering and next-day shipping. And Hermes doesn’t offer a mass-produced product line for easy off-the-rack purchases like Coach. But, these are really only weaknesses if you compare the wrong things. 

 

Barnes & Noble actually has the strength of a staff who can offer suggestions as well as a communal gathering space, which Amazon could never provide in their model. Likewise, Hermes has a handmade, ultra-limited inventory that allows the brand to focus on craftsmanship while driving aspirational desire and demand. It’s a benefit that you can’t just walk into the store and buy a bag, because the level of handmade quality takes time. 

 

I’ve been a student of these lessons. My Austin interior design firm takes a slow and complex approach to designing interiors, much like Hermes, which allows for a slow production process to preserve quality. This could be seen as a weakness by a homeowner who wants to move into their space as fast as possible. However, I’m not interested in working to fulfill an order like that. 

 

I am more interested in providing a service around interiors and developing lifelong partnerships with my clients. This is my strength. Which, I know, is recognized as I am seeing an uptick in the slow decorating movement and an appreciation for the time it takes to properly curate and design a home. Nothing worthwhile happens overnight. 

If you feel you have a weakness in your home’s architecture that prevents you from decorating the way you’d like or in your business structure or personal development that feels like a roadblock, ask yourself if you’re making the right comparison. 

 

Because like a bleeding dye, what you feel is your greatest weakness might show up as your greatest strength. 

 

Isn’t that mad?