If you have ever been curious about natural dyes, Atsi’s journey proves that you don’t need fancy equipment or expertise—just a willingness to experiment, observe, and let nature guide you. “The colors were always here. We just have to learn how to listen,” says Atsi Yhoshü, Founder of ATZI studio, a minimalist design label based in Nagaland, rooted in slow fashion, cultural memory, and hands-on craftsmanship.
In an exclusive interview with Nagaland Tribune, Atsi Yhoshü delves into her passion for natural dyeing, slow and sustainable fashion, and finding one’s niche.
Nagaland Tribune: Atsi, you’re a designer by profession, but your work with natural dyes has become a significant part of your creative journey. How did this shift happen?
Atsi Yhoshü: I was trained as a designer, but over time, I felt drawn toward something quieter and more grounded. Working with natural dyes—using plants, flowers, food waste, and earth-given colors—became a way for me to reconnect not just with materials, but with meaning. What started as simple curiosity turned into a kind of devotion.
NT: You’ve described the dyeing process as almost sacred. Can you elaborate on that?
AY: I saw color in nature as a gift from God, and the process of dyeing felt sacred to me. There was a kind of prayer in the waiting, in the stirring, in trusting what the fabric would become.
NT: Your workshops emphasize creativity and imperfection. What was your philosophy behind them?
AY: I truly believed that creativity didn’t belong to a specific type of person—it lived in all of us. These sessions were gentle spaces where no one needed to be perfect, where we worked slowly, and where we allowed nature—and each other—to teach us. Often, the most beautiful things were made when we stopped trying to rush or prove ourselves.
Sustainability was always at the heart of this work.
NT: How does your approach differ from others in the field?
AY: Unlike some, I used what was already around us—fallen leaves, kitchen scraps, even rusty objects. I wanted to share simple, accessible practices people could take into their daily lives. Some steps, like preparing the cloth to receive color, were best experienced hands-on, so I incorporated them into my workshops.
NT: After years of exploring, do you feel you have found your place as a designer?
AY: Yes. After years of waiting and not quite knowing where I fit, I believed I’d found my niche. Natural dyeing and slow craft allowed me to merge creativity with care, design with spirit. It was no longer just about what I made, but how I made it, who I shared it with, and why it mattered. I was still learning, still stumbling, and often unsure—but I’d come to trust that grace met us exactly where we were. Not when everything was polished, but in the honest, messy middle. That was where the real beauty began.
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NT: Natural dyeing and slow fashion have traditional roots, yet they’re not widely explored today. What challenges did you face in Nagaland?
AY: Natural dyeing and slow fashion weren’t entirely new—they were quite rooted in tradition—but not many people were aware of their possibilities today. Even in fashion, only a small number of students truly explored this path. One challenge in Nagaland was the lack of proper equipment and resources, which sometimes made the process slower or more limiting. There was also a gap in support for local work, maybe due to awareness, access, or even a mindset shaped by outside trends. To put myself out there, I focused on sharing my process, telling stories behind what I made, and connecting with people who valued handmade, mindful work. It was still a journey, but every little connection helped build something meaningful.
NT: In a field with so many options, why did you choose this path?
AY: Honestly, I didn’t know exactly why I chose this path—it just felt like something that had always been a part of me. My younger sisters and I used to stitch little dresses for our Barbie dolls and put on mock fashion shows, inspired by what we saw on TV. Looking back, maybe that playful creativity quietly shaped what I did later.
At the end of the day, I truly believed that everything we needed had already been given to us by God—the plants, the colors, the earth, the hands to create, and even the people we met along the way. There was something sacred about working with what was already around us, and it constantly reminded me that we weren’t creating alone. I may not have had a clear reason for choosing this path, but I believed I was gently led here. I was grateful to keep discovering purpose through the work I did, one stitch, one color, and one story at a time.
NT: Tell us about ATZI Studio. What was its essence?
AY: ATZI was a minimalist design label based in Nagaland, rooted in slow fashion, cultural memory, and hands-on craftsmanship. I designed both menswear and womenswear, blending clean, wearable silhouettes with hand techniques like crochet, embroidery, and—more recently—natural dyeing, which became central to my creative process.
The heart of ATZI lay in thoughtful making, where each piece carried intention, connection, and quiet strength. Beyond fashion, I took on various creative projects, from custom work to artistic collaborations. I also held workshops for adults and children, introducing them to natural dyeing, simple garment-making, and the joy of creating with their own hands. Whether through clothes or craft, ATZI was about slowing down, paying attention, and finding meaning in the making.