By 2.30 pm in Pune, the summer sun has a way of making women disappear.Only the eyes and fingers are visible as Sujata Khilare crosses the Hirabaug chowk near Shukrawar Peth, her face wrapped in a colourful dupatta and her green sari hidden beneath a white lab-coat-like lightweight jacket dotted with blue flowers. She is heading back to Dhayari, an hour away by bus, after her daily shift at the cash counter of Amit Misal. “I bought this suncoat years ago and wear it every March,” she says.Like the familiar house nightie, the suncoat is both practical uniform and invisibility cloak for women in the arid parts of Western Maharashtra — an affordable armour against heat, dust and the gaze of the street.Across cities like Pune, Nashik, Satara and Kolhapur, it has quietly become part of the semi-urban female landscape. Once seen mainly on women navigating scooters and buses, it is now also worn by office-goers, sweepers, delivery workers and homemakers alike.Rahul Jagtap, owner of ‘Goodluck’ Shree Swami Bags, which began making suncoats in 2016, says the firm now manufactures between 4,000 and 6,000 units a month during peak summer, with numbers often doubling during heatwaves. Prices range from Rs 120 to Rs 499 depending on fabric and features.“Customers prefer suncoats because they offer full-body protection without the need for reapplication, unlike sunscreen,” says Jagtap. “Compared to scarves, they are more convenient, secure and provide better coverage during travel.”At Shoten (BodyTop), a tiny, missable shop in Sadashiv Peth, director Sachin Ratan is keeping pace with this shift. Three piles of what he calls “crush cotton” suncoats are strewn across his glass counter on a scorching Wednesday afternoon.“It is made by a unique process of scrubbing and bubbling,” he explains, even as Sunita, who runs a shop on a parallel street, places an order for 18 of them. At Rs 350 to 400 a pop — GST included — these are not exactly cheap, but “people are tired of the old plain cotton variety,” he says. Anuja Upadhye, a walk-in customer who recently took home a fresh pair of crush cotton suncoats, has yet to use them. But as a longtime consumer of the floral suncoat, she knows what she’s after.“It is lightweight and doesn’t stick to the skin,” she says.In households where schools remain open through late April, mothers dropping children on the back of their scooters have made it a near-uniform — a quick pull-on before the school run that doubles as armour for the rest of the day.Often referred to colloquially as an “apron,” the suncoat has also been quietly evolving. On quick commerce platforms, newer versions arrive in ice-silk blends that feel cool against the skin, with touchscreen-compatible fingertips so a woman never has to pull off her glove to check her phone. UPF-rated fabrics and moisture-wicking linings are becoming standard in the mid-range segment, turning what was once a purely functional garment into something closer to protection.Designs have expanded from plain whites to floral prints, dot patterns, frilled sleeves, zip-front styles and pastel shades like pista green, peach and baby pink, though white remains the most popular.Every now and then, the local corporator, Ratan says, places an order for the old-school versions meant for municipal workers.“But the budget in this case is usually very tight,” adds Ratan.He points to a poster on the shop wall showing a woman fully covered, cap and mask attached to her suncoat.“It negates the need to wear a dupatta or scarf,” he says .
