Textiles and crafts are more than heritage objects — they are living carriers of memory, identity, and community knowledge. Often tied to personal rituals, regional aesthetics, or collective values, they reflect how culture is made tangible across generations. But in many parts of the world, textile traditions are increasingly at risk — due to industrial reproduction, cultural disconnection, or changing lifestyles. As global interest in heritage grows, one question becomes more urgent:
How can textile and craft practices remain visible, meaningful, and valued — especially to broader or younger audiences?
One potential answer lies in creating new forms of encounter — not only through exhibitions or archives, but through shared experiences where people can engage with heritage in personal, embodied ways. In this space, creative tourism has become a compelling approach. Rather than observing from a distance, visitors are invited to participate — to listen, learn, and make. These experiences don’t just showcase textiles as cultural products; they position making as a form of dialogue between past and present, host and guest, tradition and transformation.
Craft and textile practices hold cultural, historical, and emotional weight. They involve techniques that are often passed down informally, through family traditions or community practices. In many cultures, a cloth is not just fabric, it’s a symbol of status, identity, blessing, memory, or resistance. Participating in the act of making — even for a brief moment — allows someone to engage with those layers of meaning. It invites reflection. It slows things down. It turns the abstract idea of “heritage” into something tactile and relational.
In a global context where so much travel feels fast and detached, this kind of encounter becomes valuable — not only for visitors, but also for makers seeking new ways to share their work.
During my time in the Netherlands, I visited a textile workshop inviting participants to experiment with batik, an Indonesian techniques and reflect on their cultural meanings. The group was diverse — some had Indonesian roots, others had traveled there, and some were simply drawn by curiosity.
What I witnessed went beyond craft.
People came to connect: with family stories, diasporic memory, forgotten skills, or shared questions. The materials sparked conversations that ranged from personal identity to postcolonial history — all within the framework of hands-on activity. Participants later described feeling more emotionally connected — not just to the cloth, but to the culture it represented. The act of making created a space for cultural exchange that felt safe, active, and grounded in shared experience. It was a reminder that textile is not just something we look at — it’s something we can learn through.
In this context, creative tourism is not the end goal, but rather a method. A way to create access points between traditional practices and new publics. Its strength lies in participation, dialogue, and the co-creation of meaning.
Craft- and textile-based tourism can take many forms:
Community-led workshops that introduce guests to local techniques
Seasonal residencies that invite makers to collaborate across cultures
Traveling exhibitions with live demonstrations or hands-on stations
Diaspora-focused programming that reconnects people with heritage skills
Partnerships between cultural institutions, artists, and tourism stakeholders
These formats support local economies, sustain artisan knowledge, and generate a more relational tourism model — one that’s slower, more responsible, and more rooted in place.
For heritage professionals, cultural policymakers, or destination planners, there’s growing potential to support textile craft through well-designed, collaborative experiences. The demand is already present: travelers — especially younger ones — are increasingly seeking authentic, values-driven, and meaningful experiences. Craft traditions offer just that — and more. They create moments where people don’t just learn about culture, but start to care. Whether it’s weaving in a remote village, dyeing cloth in a city pop-up, or co-designing a textile narrative across borders, these experiences offer new ways of relating to heritage — not as something frozen in time, but as something living, dynamic, and deeply human.
Textile and craft are not only expressions of culture, they are invitations.
Invitations to slow down, to notice, to ask questions. When shared through meaningful experiences, they become more than traditions: They become conversations. And in a time where culture is often consumed quickly, that kind of slow, thoughtful connection might just be one of the most powerful things we can offer, and receive.
References:
Munawar, F., Munawar, R., Tarmidi, D., The Impact of Perceived Coolness, Destination Uniqueness and Tourist Experience on Revisit Intention: A Geographical Study on Cultural Tourism in Indonesia.
Richards, G. (2021). Developing craft as a creative industry through tourism. Brazilian Creative Industries Journal, 1(1), 03-22. https://doi.org/10.25112/bcij.v1i1.2671
Richards, G. (2020). From cultural to creative tourism: Sharing the material world through craft. the World Crafts Council Europe webinar on Craft and Tourism.
Soemardi, A. D. (2024). Understanding ‘Batik Belanda’ in Dutch society via Co-creation experience of creative tourism practice. Journal of Visual Art and Design, 15(2), 165-178. https://doi.org/10.5614/j.vad.2023.15.2.6
Tao, Q., & Yan, H. (2016). Reflection on cultural development based on the theory of cultural self-consciousness. Proceedings of 2016 5th International Conference on Social Science,