The Voice of Fashion
Alia-Ranbir’s Ivory Chest Wedding
Among the gleaming gems of Alia Bhatt and Ranbir Kapoor’s wedding are the khandaan’s women and their old Bombay elite appeal
The bride with her forever young adult demeanour and the groom with his forever brooding-romantic look rode into the sunset together on April 14. Tied by the matrimonial knot symbiotic with foreverness. Bollywood actor Alia Bhatt set aside her makeup kit to go with a nude lip and a tiny maroon bindi. Yet she went all out with bridal jewels. A multi-layered jadau necklace clinging to her elfin neck. Stacks of thick kundan kadas and delicate red-maroon chooda bangles on her arms. Her lavish hair ornaments styled beautifully on her no-jooda, no gajra open hairdo. No mangalsutra on display and her mehendi didn’t bleed into her elbows. Her husband now, actor Ranbir Kapoor, scion of Bollywood’s first family, the Kapoor khandaan left behind all his Dilliwali girlfriends, “tod-tadoeing” all signals to scoop his bride in his arms and carry her over the threshold.
Bridal couture by Sabyasachi (who else?) brought spring to the summer wedding. The bride’s ivory and gold sari worn with a delicately embroidered gold tissue veil was as charming as her seeming nonchalance towards her clothes. She didn’t let her rather beautiful sari define the look in her eyes, her joy or her smiles. She stood out as the chirpy-cherubic, dimpling Alia India knows and loves. Off white sherwanis aren’t yesterday’s discovery among Bollywood grooms. But Ranbir’s almost feminine, diaphanous, chikankari dupatta-drape worn over his intricately woven bandhgala with dainty white and gold buttons (also by Sabyasachi) added to the fluidity that resides in his manner. It is an exceptional offset against his brooding, restrained body language.
Alia and Ranbir. Two brilliant actors, among the best in their generation wrote their happily ever afters on the balcony of Vastu, Ranbir’s Bandra home where they have often “shared wine, Chinese takeaways and movie nights” (unofficially borrowed excerpts from Alia’s Instagram post).
For us looking into our Instagram windows around sunset yesterday, the wedding opened an ivory chest. Full of unsolicited gems. One, it showed an elegant side door out to the insanely opulent red lehengas that have overtaken most celebrity weddings which start twirling as synonyms for bridal bliss prettiness. This writer has tried many times to disentangle the beauty of the brides from the prettiness of their lehengas, and to argue for them separately. With zero success. Now, there is an example to cite.
More than that, the white-gold-pastel dress code for guests, mothers, mentors, family and friends that soon became apparent gives us reason to raise a toast to taste. Not something celebrities can always be accused of.
Taimur and Jeh, Kareena’s sons arrived in soft pink coloured kurtas and white churidars. As did their dashing nawab father Saif Ali Khan. All three looked ‘epic’ as bloggers of this genre might term it. Not to mention that Riddhima Kapoor-Sahni’s daughter, Samara, the niece of the groom, too arrived in the same shade of soft pink. A light and easy frock, just right for a girl of her age—no opulent child lehengas or prematurely hung maang tikkas to copy her glamorous aunts.
Kareenaji herself, self-conscious and waist swaying (unintended of course) without any background Bolly number, came in a soft pink silver embroidered sari by Manish Malhotra. Her jewels may have reminded some of the resplendent turnouts in Bridgerton. Luxe Regencycore, you think?
Karisma, the other Kapoor sis, always impeccably groomed arrived minus her usual trans-seasonal accessories Malaika and Amrita Arora. Though Karan Johar made up for it. Karisma wore a white embroidered sari with an orange Banarasi blouse by Manish Malhotra. She aced her younger sister in sophistication and photo posing scores.
Father of the bride, Mahesh Bhatt, did not get noticed for his clothes, but for his mehendi that read “Ranbir” on one hand and “Alia” on the other. He deserves mention for the fact that he really tried hard not to scowl. Now we know why he never made it as an actor. Partner Soni Razdan, mother of the bride, didn’t try as hard. Her rather unamused expression eclipsed her sari and gave serious competition to her disproportionately long and big necklace.
Now for the icing on the cake. If a Kapoor Women special were to be written, mother and daughter Neetu and Riddhima would be the jewels of the piece. Riddhima looked resplendent in every outing around the wedding, from a slinky sequinned sari worn a day before to the Abu Jani-Sandeep Khosla gold gown dress for the nuptials. Not incidentally, she is a jewellery designer and owns a line called R by Riddhima. Among her necklaces was an unusual piece by Dedhia Jewellers that she paired with her sequinned sari. Slender, smiling, unruffled and sophisticated. A Kapoor by any other name will look as sweet.
But it is the mother of the groom, dulhe ki ma, Neetu Kapoor, who merits a standalone story. For the way she has absorbed herself in work as a senior actor after the passing of her husband Rishi Kapoor. And for her now rather noticeable style that defies her age yet honours it. That holds up her verve. Her necklaces at her son’s wedding functions seemed to be made of duck egg sized uncut diamonds, perhaps a reminder that she and her daughter Riddhima once modelled for Mumbai’s Notandas Jewellers. But Neetu wore her smile the best. Her clothes were well-chosen too. Draped by well-known sari draper Dolly Jain for the mehendi ceremony in an embroidered Abu Jani-Sandeep Khosla sari, she looked happy, unstressed and buoyant.
That said, if there is a story in this ivory wedding, it is of the collective worth of the Kapoor men and women. As jewellery endorsers, as fashion horses (even if their clothes are sponsored from time to time), as a stylish bunch of women who mix the old sophistication of elite Bombay with the new swagger introduced by fashion and beauty stylists. The Kapoor women are individually and separately worth their properties, their inheritance, their earnings, their poster value, Bombay kitty party appeal and filmi networks. Those who have taken up acting among these have given their colleagues a run for their money. When they walk as fashion showstoppers, we stop, stare and applaud. Some for our ingrained fondness for this large and lovely clan of Prithviraj Kapoor. Often out of respect for their men—lost and found—Raj, Shammi, Shashi, Randhir, Rishi and Ranbir. How can we forget that even the global-local theatre talent Jennifer Kendal was a Kapoor? That an extraordinary highlight of contemporary Indian theatre, Sanjana Kapoor, is also from this clan?
The ivory chest, the sandook now has one more gem in the form of Alia Bhatt Kapoor. “Be and it is” dear Ranbir for your bride and yourself. Or, “Kun Faya Kun” as you sang in Irshad Kamil’s words for Rockstar.
Banner: Alia Bhatt and Ranbir Kapoor pose for pictures at their wedding in Mumbai on April 14. Photograph: Sujit Jaiswal/AFP.
