by Mary Ellen Davis ’73
photos by Bill Hochman

Visualize an elegant home – perhaps in New York City or Seattle – as it fills with discerning women. Tables and racks spill over with rich, colorful fabrics in persimmon, turquoise, olive, silver, gold, and magenta. Models wearing sophisticated garments of embroidered fabrics, designed and produced in India, weave among the guests. Exquisitely dressed in an outfit from her line of Indian fashions, Jacqueline Lundquist moves through the crowd to welcome guests, introduce her products, and answer questions.

In a little over a year, Lundquist has hosted 15 such trunk shows across the country, giving a third of the net profits to charities in India. How she found herself promoting Indian textiles in North America starts with one love story… and finishes with another.

In 1997, Lundquist set out for India with her husband Richard F. Celeste and their three-month-old son, Sam. She welcomed the challenges of her role as the new ambassador’s wife. “Everything I ever did prepared me for this. My mother, who entertained a lot, was very proper. Our house was filled with grace and elegance,” Lundquist says.

In India, an ambassador’s wife is a celebrity, and Lundquist made the most of the opportunity. Settling in Roosevelt House (the ambassador’s residence) in Delhi, Lundquist used her status and entertaining skills to promote awareness of many issues. “I didn’t say ‘no’ to anyone. I lit candles (the traditional way to start an event in India) several times per week at events to promote artists, dancers, singers…People came to us to host events at Roosevelt House supporting causes such as AIDS, breast cancer awareness, child welfare, and the arts.”

Between official and charitable functions, Lundquist traveled widely, falling in love with the country and its people. “I was changed by India. Her people have been blessings in my life – my gurus, my teachers, my friends. I have been taught such beautiful lessons, exposed to so many ideas and have been treated with a generosity which leaves me speechless,” she wrote in the foreword to a book of trans-India images by noted photographer Shyamal Roy.

And she discovered India’s textiles and clothes, which seemed to her to be physical manifestations of the country’s magic. “When I was introduced to Indian clothing, I found what I’ve been wanting to wear all my life,” Lundquist says. She began shopping for all things Indian, from salwar kameezes (a long tunic covering loose pants, coordinated with a shawl) to dramatic saris. Soon, guests at Roosevelt House took note of the elegant ambassador’s wife and started buying Indian clothes.

‘Here’s a business opportunity,’ thought Lundquist. A year before the end of Celeste’s tour as ambassador, Lundquist started Karma, which markets the collections of five Indian designers as well as her own I’m Sari jewelry line at trunk shows across the U.S. Her showroom agent in New York City participates in the spring and fall fashion weeks, and last May, Lord & Taylor displayed fashions from Karma and I’m Sari in store windows along Fifth Avenue and sold them in a specially-constructed shop called “Into India.”

Karma’s not just a business. Lundquist hopes to use it as a vehicle to foster cross-cultural understanding and create jobs in an impoverished nation. To date, Karma has donated $30,000 to charities in India.