Tarun Tahiliani, Anita Dongre, Ritu Kumar, Rohit Bal, to Gaurav Gupta. Only the finale designers from LFW’s journey were on stage. Manish Arora, Wendell Rodricks and Sabysachi were absent.

The evening glittered with designers in “timeless couture”, the dress code for the 25th-anniversary gala of fashion weeks in India. Unlike most such events when a litany of Bollywood actors dominates runways, front rows, and parties, here designers were the stars.

Couturier Manish Malhotra wore diamante buttons the size of brooches on his black bandhgala, all from his jewellery label. Designers Ritu Beri, Rina Dhaka, Namrata Joshipura, and Alpana Mittal were sleek in style’s failsafe comrade—black. Beri and Dhaka in sexy long dresses, Joshipura and Mittal in pre-stitched saris, their skins aglow.

New York-based publicist Jessel Taank wore pearl couture for her interviews with celebrities for social media. Masaba wore a sunlight-yellow kaftan dress with hair pieces repurposed from her 2023 bridal look while Gaurav Gupta came in what he calls a “space suit”, a midnight blue number, eyes tucked behind dark glasses. Richa Moorjani of Netflix’s Never Have I Ever arrived in a sage green gown with an embroidered bodice, rather bland in its hue.

An artfully edited visual memoir on a large screen and a subjective interpretation of fashion’s evolution over a quarter century—are just a few ways to define the 25th anniversary of Lakmē Fashion Week.

Known for its long collaboration with the title sponsor, Lakmē, the event is now branded as LFW (Lakmē Fashion Week) x FDCI (Fashion Design Council of India). The council is where the idea of fashion weeks in India was first born.

The celebration began with a big party at the Lotus Ballroom of Mumbai’s Jio World Convention Centre. Guests raised a toast in a pre-show area laden with grazing tables. It was a glamourous industry reunion of sorts, especially for those who have indeed been around for a quarter century. Many were seen hugging successive generations and emerging talents.

The long-winded evening led to a runway retrospective anchored by Indian-American actor Kal Penn. He was dressed in a black suit by Malhotra, his jacket shimmering.

Nostalgia, couture and chaos

The show sashayed between the brilliant and the pedantic. In a way, it mirrored 25 years of Indian fashion—its unforgettable triumphs and its unmemorable creations.

Consider some winners: Bal’s lush velvet gowns with floral patterns; Suneet Varma’s legendary metallic breastplate, first styled as a sari blouse; Manish Malhotra’s black and gold sling for actor Shah Rukh Khan when the actor had injured himself but still walked for the designer; Rajesh Pratap Singh’s handloom garments woven with steel; JJ Valaya’s jamavars; Tarun Tahiliani’s fluid drapes; Anamika Khanna’s textural fabrics; Gaurav Gupta’s sculptural couture.

All of it unfolded as live performances—drummers, singers, artists from across genres—set the rhythm of the runway.

Oddly, the show did not follow a chronological order. For spectators, it was perplexing to understand a clear narrative, if there was any. Garments from 2004 were abruptly followed by pieces from 2001, then 2017, with no apparent logic. If there was any strategic category grouping—haute couture, luxury prêt, premium athleisure, or bridal—it all blurred together.

What the retrospective displayed was undeniably the evolution and stumbles of fashion design in India. For the way it clings to bling, its fascination with long, flowing, crinoline-pumped garments, and muchness over silhouette and form. Of course, these were finale representations, and India is the only country where a “Grand Finale” is staged with theatrical sets, larger-than-life elements, celebrity front rows, and Bollywood showstoppers. At Lakmē, the finale designer also directs a seasonal cosmetics collection—bold and big are a part of the brief. Expecting a democratic representation of fashion in this commemoration is perhaps misplaced.

Yet by focusing only on theatrical couture, the show left out some of the biggest strides Indian designers have made in the past decade—especially in prêt or ready-to-wear.

Major omissions

Choreographed by stylist Gautam Kalra, the show was emblematic of the work of 30 designers who had recreated two standout pieces each, from their past work. Only the finale designers from LFW’s journey were invited to the stage. Given the long timeline, the inclusions ranged from Tarun Tahiliani, Suneet Varma, Malini Ramani, Anita Dongre, Ritu Beri, Ritu Kumar, the late Rohit Bal, to Gaurav Gupta, Sanjay Garg of Raw Mango, Amit Aggarwal, and Rahul Mishra among others. Some big names though were missing.

Manish Arora, among the country’s first blazing designers who took fashion beyond its borders while keeping its cultural chaos intact, wasn’t represented. So was the late Wendell Rodricks, a pioneering visionary of this platform and a longtime mentor to GenNext debutants.

Both Arora and Rodricks had been finale designers, as had Sabyasachi Mukherjee. Not a word was uttered about him. Insider accounts suggest he might have declined to send representative garments, having been estranged from Fashion Week bodies for years. But acknowledging the only Indian designer to have successfully built a globally recognised luxury brand wouldn’t have undermined the industry’s collective wins on its silver anniversary.

Real star power

It would be remiss not to acknowledge the grace that some of India’s past and present fashion models brought to the evening. Among the 60 who walked were actor Lisa Ray, once the face of Lakmē, and Lakshmi Rana, who still holds her starry presence on the ramp, along with Lisa Haydon, Carol Gracias, Indrani Mukherjee and Sarah-Jane Dias. On the other hand, some of the icons who helped define Indian modelling through sheer personality—Milind Soman, Madhu Sapre, Arjun Rampal, Mehr Jesia, and Lakshmi Menon—were absent from the gala.

A nostalgic AV with photographic flashbacks to the early years was the best part of the show. Some designers admitted as much. Meanwhile, the otherwise sharp Kal Penn struggled to resonate with the culture and context of India’s peculiar creative journey. His attempts at witty banter didn’t quite work, but he was rescued by actor Kareena Kapoor Khan, dressed—almost predictably—in a white lace lehenga-ensemble by “friend” Manish Malhotra.

Kareena announced her return as the face of Lakmē after a four-year break. Khan, who had previously represented the cosmetics giant for many years, smartly ignored the teleprompter. She said she wanted to speak from the heart. So, she did, paying homage to fashion’s “real stars, the models waiting in the wings” and some other oft-forgotten gems of an industry still on the rise.