Think Alia Bhatt in the ivory Shantnu Nikhil sherwani-and-draped-skirt ensemble at her friend’s wedding, or Prateik Babbar’s fluid custom Tarun Tahiliani silk shirt and dhoti co-ord at his own nuptials. Wedding wear is shedding its gendered confines. Brides, grooms, and guests are joyfully blurring the masculine–feminine divide, embracing androgyny as both rebellion and return. In Indian couture, gender-fluid fashion is emerging in silhouettes that marry structure with softness.
Like most trends, this isn’t new—especially not for Indian couture. “Terms like gender-fluid and genderless may have found popular vocabulary through contemporary wear, but in Indian couture, the boundaries of gendered dressing were never rigid to begin with. Men in Mughal courts often wore flared garments that resembled anarkalis—known then as jamās—with yards of fabric, tight bodices, and a generous flare. Rajput warriors wore ghagras (skirts) under armour for ease of movement and often paired them with angrakhas and kamarbandhs,” explains Rimple Narula, co-founder and managing director at Rimple & Harpreet.
The quiet revolution
Narula, who often channels India’s stately past into contemporary couture, points to their RAH Man collection—featuring kalidars and angrakhas for grooms—as proof that androgyny isn’t novelty, it’s nostalgia made new. “Today’s occasion wear celebrates emotion, individuality, and ease, rather than conforming to a ‘uniform’ of festivity,” she adds.
This move towards sartorial freedom is especially potent in the wedding space, steeped as it is in custom and symbolism. And it’s being led by a generation that dresses by instinct, not instruction. For Kunal Rawal, this evolution isn’t a trend. “From day one, our atelier has treated androgyny as a core design principle,” he says. “I’ve always crafted silhouettes that slip between lines: a bandhgala that doesn’t care who’s wearing it, a collar detail that works just as well on a blouse or kurta, and surface work like zardozi and resham without gender bias. Our pieces aren’t performatively masculine or feminine—they’re simply about owning the craft.”
Despite being celebrated as a menswear designer, Rawal’s creations have been championed by the likes of Sonam Kapoor Ahuja. Most recently, Khushi Kapoor turned heads in a gilded bandhgala from his label. In his ‘Sehra’ presentation, women walked the ramp in traditionally masculine pieces—bundis, kurtas, and even the titular sehra. “It looked exactly as it should: strong, effortless, and honest,” he says.
