There’s something oddly difficult about shopping for your mother.
Not because there aren’t enough options, but because nothing ever feels enough for someone who has spent most of her life giving without keeping count. How do you really wrap gratitude? Or nostalgia? Or all the versions of comfort she has been for you over the years? I think a lot of us first understood beauty through our mothers. I know I did.
My mother loved dressing me up when I was little. She would sketch tiny midis and skirts for me, pick fabrics she liked, and then get them stitched exactly the way she imagined them. I think that was probably my first introduction to fashion and not through Bollywood, magazines or runways, but through her excitement over details that she’d so fondly worked on.
And then came her dupattas. Every dupatta in the house somehow became my sari. I’d drape them badly, pin them unevenly, and walk around the house feeling impossibly grown up. Years later, I finally wore her actual sari for my grade 10 farewell, which felt like such an important moment at the time.
But despite all of this, there was one thing she would never let me wear: red lipstick. Not anymore, though. She still doesn’t love it, I can tell. But now, she lets me wear it anyway. And somehow, that got me thinking about Mother’s Day.
About how strange and emotional it is to buy something for the woman who unknowingly shaped your entire understanding of style, femininity, and self-expression. Because gifting your mother is never really about the gift. It’s about noticing her. The colours she always gravitates towards. The jewellery she wears most. The bags she carries till the straps wear out. The flats she chooses because comfort always wins eventually. It’s about knowing the difference between what she’ll politely accept and what she’ll genuinely love. Maybe that’s why I always find myself leaning towards gifts that feel personal and lasting.
A beautiful handbag, for instance, feels like something she’ll actually use every day. If your mother enjoys pieces with personality, Aisha Rao has embroidered bags that instantly brighten up even the simplest outfits. If her style is more understated, Payal Khandwala creates structured bags in rich colours that feel timeless rather than trend-driven. And for mothers who value comfort just as much as elegance, Aprajita Toor always gets that balance right.
The same goes for footwear. Because if there’s one thing mothers deserve more of, it’s comfort they don’t have to compromise on. Fizzy Goblet brings this playful charm to everyday footwear, while Aprajita Toor makes the kind of handcrafted juttis and flats she’ll keep reaching for long after Mother’s Day is over.
Jewellery, though, might always be the most emotional category. Maybe because mothers rarely buy it for themselves. Maybe because jewellery becomes memory so easily. A pair of earrings she wears every festive dinner. A ring she reaches for every morning without thinking.
For mothers who enjoy statement pieces, AK|OK Anamika Khanna creates bold, sculptural designs that feel artistic and modern. And if your mother prefers quieter elegance, Meroh has delicate, minimal pieces she’ll wear effortlessly every day.
Then there’s fine jewellery, which somehow says the things we struggle to articulate. Pieces from Candere by Kalyan Jewellers and Zen Diamond feel timeless in the way all meaningful gifts should.
And honestly, clothing might be the easiest way to say: I see you. I see what makes you comfortable. I notice the silhouettes you always return to. Whether it’s the handcrafted richness of Archana Jaju or the soft, understated comfort of Anavila, the best gifts are usually the ones that feel considered.
I think that’s what mothers remember anyway. Not how expensive something was. But whether thought went into it.
Whether you noticed.
