If there were ever a jewellery metaphor for an Indian woman, that might lie in the little nath or mookuthi. It’s something you might remember the most about your grandmother, an aunt or just a lady who passed you by on the street, not too long before you read this. That’s the Indian nose pin for you; it’s transcended time, age and purpose, finding resonance in so many social settings. Which only makes one thing clear: the nose pin Indian has been witness to both change and tradition, on an equal footing.
In Sarath Selvanathan’s designs, the mookuthi is the runway carrying a collection of the prettiest motifs and designs, but also emotions and memories of people and little parts of South India, that he grew up in. From Athangudi tiles to Kondai flowers and everyday geometry, it’s like a little postcard of South Indian history and culture. Over the last two years, he’s watched women across the country pick up his mookuthis, in a bid to remember their own home, identity and find their own voice and purpose.
In a heartfelt chat with Manifest, ex-engineer by profession, Sarath, shares how Mookuthi came to be, the joy in seeing someone find their sense of rebellion and freedom and more.
In 2013, I reached a point where I wandered and tried my hand at a few things, and jewellery happened. From there, curiosity got the better of me. Interestingly, engineering helped through the lens of form, function, movement and precision, but also with the larger conversation of building a brand, organizing, optimizing, and streamlining. It was interesting, and I could apply these concepts to design effectively. Mookuthi is, in many ways, an embodiment of my curiosity getting the better of me. It began with a feeling that refused to leave. In November 2015, Supraja asked me to make her a quintessential South Indian Yaellu Kallu nose ornament. At the time, it felt like a straightforward commission, as it wasn’t technically demanding or particularly elaborate. In fact, it was probably the smallest piece of jewellery I had to make.
My first collections feel so special- the first was inspired by South India’s architecture, the second came about from Athangudi tiles (from my neighbouring village) and my third, a tribute to iconic South Indian nose ornament designs.
A lot of the inspiration comes simply from paying attention—to people, places, spaces, and the little details around us. There is always a deep-rooted connection to the South, but I’ve realised that inspiration doesn’t always have to come from another piece of jewellery. It can come from a tile beneath your feet, the geometry of an old doorway, a window, a temple, a figure, a craft technique, or even something you notice in passing. I think, for me, it comes from two worlds that constantly meet. The way I see things, the music I listen to—all of these are shaped by a sensibility I grew up with. South India has an extraordinary visual vocabulary hiding in everyday life—old homes, temple architecture, brass objects, floor patterns, textiles, jewellery, doors, tiles and even the geometry of shadows. Over time, they become part of the way you see and respond to the world. At the same time, you cannot escape the influences of the world around you today. Education, travel, friendships, technology, architecture, fashion and the way we live have all brought in new perspectives.
To each person at Mookuthi, it might be a different piece. But for me, personally, it goes back to 2017 — when I was in the thick of exploring what Mookuthi, the college project, could be. I was still prototyping designs, curating, speaking with artisans, speaking with women with nose piercings and trying to understand how to build a brand around something so specific. I had very little exposure at that time, in business or in design, but I was just obsessing over nose ornaments. But somewhere in that uncertainty, I had this idea of creating a series inspired by Athangudi tiles — simple, tile-like motifs within a one-square-centimetre frame. I didn’t know where to begin, but I knew it needed colour & detail. That led me to Meenakari. And that meant going to Jaipur.
I don’t think I can claim to design for something emotionally heavy. The meaning isn’t built by me—it’s built by the wearer. By the mother, the daughter, or simply by someone who’s lived a life full of feeling. A person is remembered for what they’ve done, what they’ve stood for, and how they made others feel. And when a nose ornament becomes a way to hold that memory—to pass it from one person to another—it’s incredibly moving. All those intangible strengths, all that quiet power, somehow find a form in this small piece of jewellery. I can only be honest in the way I craft, the way I obsess over the smallest detail. But this isn't for me to build. That’s personal.
Absolutely. That's one of the things I find most exciting about it and I’ve always been fascinated by how it becomes part of the wearer. I can only speak from what I've witnessed quietly at Mookuthi. The nose ornament carries something far beyond adornment. Especially when inherited, it becomes a vessel of memory.
There’s a particular sparkle in the way someone talks about a nose ornament passed down from their grandmother or mother. It’s not just a piece of jewellery—it’s like borrowing that person’s identity, carrying them with you. Wearing their strength, their softness, their story—quite literally, on your face.
For each person at Mookuthi, it might be a different piece. But for me, personally, it goes back to 2017 — when I was in the thick of exploring what Mookuthi, the college project, could be. I was still prototyping designs, curating, speaking with artisans, speaking with women with nose piercings and trying to understand how to build a brand around something so specific. I had very little exposure at that time, in business or in design, but I was just obsessing over nose ornaments.
The nose ornament wasn’t a lucrative canvas — it demanded time, effort, precision. But somewhere in that mess of uncertainty, I had this idea of creating a series inspired by Athangudi tiles — simple, tile-like motifs within a one-square-centimeter frame. I didn’t know where to begin, but I knew it needed colour and detail. That led me to Meenakari. And that meant going to Jaipur. I didn’t know the language nor the technique. I gathered knowledge, some sketches and some hope and left for Jaipur. Through a friend who translated for me, I met a master Meenakari artisan from a family that’s been in the craft for generations. His father, nearly 80 at the time, still sat at the bench. There was so much pride in that room — in the work, the lineage, the storytelling through enamel.
When I showed them the tile-inspired sketches and explained that I wanted these made as nose ornaments, they were intrigued. Especially by the fact that the Meenakari would be on the front of the piece — not hidden at the back, as is traditionally done in jewellery. “It’s going to be seen?” Harminder asked. And something about that — about an invisible art finally being visible — struck a chord.
When the first pieces were ready, he called me back to Jaipur. And I remember holding it in my hand for the first time — and just… feeling something. I don’t know if I cried. But I do remember being overwhelmed. Not because I’d made something beautiful, but because something beautiful had happened. That piece — that whole journey — quietly set the tone for Mookuthi.
We put that piece up for sale when we launched in February 2018. It sat on the shelf on the 16th and 17th. And I secretly hoped no one would buy it. I told myself: if it doesn’t sell these two days, I’ll keep it. Well, I still have it. It holds everything for me—the chaos & the clarity with which I built Mookuthi. It’s not just an object. It’s memory, effort, and meaning — all folded into that one square centimeter.
Yes, our journey involves conversations with the artisans because craft and technique are central to Mookuthi. Every time we sit with an artisan, the conversation begins with what their years of experience make possible, and how those capabilities can find expression within the design constraints we set for a collection. That’s where the work begins to feel like it sits between traditional craftsmanship and a very contemporary design language. Each collection poses a new question for craftsmanship to respond to, allowing age-old techniques to find expression in objects that belong to the lives we live today. In many ways, it expands the vocabulary of a craft, of a craftsman, while remaining deeply respectful of its/their essence.
Over time, I'm tuned into seeing large influences or everyday elements around me as a nose ornament — whether it’s a motif, a gemstone, a restaurant’s logo, the handle of an old armchair, a knob on a radio, or broadly nature itself. On the other hand, I’m constantly observing noses around me. At a bar, at the salon, on a flight, or while picking cake — I notice noses, their shapes and begin visualising forms that would be interesting on her, on her nose. I guess I'm always caught between these two ends: the nose and everyday inspiration. I haven’t thought about designing for Gen Z specifically. That’s never been the intent. We just put our heads down and try to make things that feel meaningful, well-crafted, beautiful, and ergonomic. That’s about it as far as the design process is concerned.
I see traditional jewellery becoming more personal, versatile and less bound by occasion or convention. The idea is to let these traditions evolve with you while keeping the stories and memories that make them meaningful.
Definitely. I think the current generation has a very different relationship with tradition, and they are not necessarily interested in wearing something just because they are told it is traditional. They are deeply self-aware and do not shy away from being themselves or expressing themselves. They have a different way of understanding, interpreting, and making it their own. I feel Mookuthi works beautifully within that mindset because it's about expression and what resonates with you. Also, we are noticing that the conventional idea of weddings is changing and so is the bride. A bride today may not necessarily want a large, elaborate traditional nose ornament. She may want something more architectural, minimal or personal. That creates an interesting space where heritage and contemporary bridal styling can coexist.
We recently opened our new flagship store in Chennai and are excited about the overwhelming response and love. To be honest, there’s still so much more to explore within the nose ornament. That’s what keeps Mookuthi exciting: the depth of possibility inside this tiny, specific form.