The Story

The Iraghi cap often feels incomplete without the jewellery that comes with it. The silver ornament hanging across the front is commonly called silsila in Gilgit, Hunza, and Ghizer. In Baltistan, you’ll also hear the term tumar.

It usually includes linked silver pieces with dangling chains and small drops that frame the face. What makes silsila special is that it often isn’t “new.” Many families pass it down, grandmother to mother to daughter, so it becomes family memory in silver.

A light note on wider regional echoes

If you’ve seen mountain dress traditions outside Pakistan, you may notice visual cousins: similar cap silhouettes, similar forehead ornaments, similar “silver against colour” styling. It’s best to treat this as an influence and an echo rather than a hard claim of origin, mountain regions have been connected through movement, trade, and shared craft habits for a long time.

How an Iraghi cap is made

A traditional Iraghi cap is slow work. Depending on how dense the pattern is and how many hours the artisan can give daily, a hand-embroidered cap can take around two months in some cases, and closer to three or four months for more elaborate pieces. That isn’t because anyone is slow; it’s because the embroidery is careful, colour by colour, stitch by stitch.

Many artisans do this work alongside household responsibilities, fitting in a few hours a day. That rhythm, small daily sessions over weeks, is part of what makes the cap feel personal.

A craft under pressure

The hard truth: this craft is under pressure.

Hand embroidery takes time, and time is expensive. That’s why machine-made versions are now common in some markets. From far away, they can look similar. Up close, the depth is missing, the stitches look too uniform, and the cap often feels “printed” rather than built.

The bigger worry is skills transfer. If fewer young people learn the older styles properly, complex motifs can fade. Supporting local makers isn’t just “nice”, it helps keep the tradition alive.

How to spot handmade vs machine-made (quick checklist)

If you’re buying an Iraghi cap and want the real thing, use this mini-check:

• Flip it inside: handmade pieces often show tidy but human thread paths; machine embroidery can look overly flat or fused.
• Look for tiny variation: handwork has micro-imperfections (the good kind). If every stitch looks cloned, be suspicious.
• Feel the texture: hand-embroidered caps usually have a slightly raised, dimensional surface. Machine work often feels flatter.
• Check motif edges: hand stitching tends to have crisp corners but not “laser-perfect” borders.
• Ask who made it: genuine sellers can usually tell you the artisan, village, or at least the district. Vague answers aren’t always bad, but detailed answers are a good sign.

Pricing and authenticity: what to expect before you buy

Pricing depends on three things: time, materials, and who gets paid.

• A cap with dense, original hand embroidery will cost more than a lighter pattern. 
• Caps sold with silsila/tumar jewellery will cost more than caps alone.
• Tourist-heavy markets sometimes mark up prices; direct-from-maker purchases can be fairer.

A practical way to buy without feeling awkward

If you’re buying in-person, a respectful way to ask is simple:

• “Is this hand-embroidered or machine-made?”
• “How long did it take to make?”
• “Is the silsila silver, mixed metal, or costume jewellery?”
• “Does the price go to the maker directly or through a shop?”

You’re not interrogating, you’re showing you value the craft.

Where and when the Iraghi cap is worn today

For many families, the Iraghi cap is a key part of bridal dress. Worn with bright traditional outfits, it turns the bride’s face into the centre of attention, especially once the silsila falls into place.

Beyond weddings, you’ll see Iraghi caps during festivals and regional celebrations, and often at cultural gatherings where traditional dress is proudly displayed.

Cultural days and “Cap Day” context (with a quick clarification)

Gilgit-Baltistan has also promoted the idea of cultural identity through headwear, there have been reported “Cap Day” observances in the region. That public conversation is usually centred on the men’s traditional cap, but the underlying point still supports why women’s caps like Iraghi carry such weight: headwear here isn’t “just fashion,” it’s pride.

Everyday identity (and how it’s shifting)

In some villages, especially among older women, you may still see the Iraghi in daily life. Not everywhere, and not always, but it happens. For many younger women, daily wear is less common now, yet the cap has not disappeared. It shows up whenever there’s something worth celebrating, or whenever someone wants to represent the region properly.

Iraghi cap vs other caps of Gilgit-Baltistan

One common confusion is mixing men’s and women’s headwear.

The Iraghi is primarily a women’s cap, structured, cylindrical, and heavily embroidered, often paired with silsila/tumar jewellery. Men more commonly wear soft wool caps (often referred to as khoi in some local usage), which are rolled, flexible, and sometimes styled with a feather.

Women in some areas also wear Balti caps or simpler velvet caps depending on tradition and occasion. Even with all these options, the Iraghi remains one of the most widely recognised and celebrated styles, especially in Hunza and Ghizer circles.