There’s a pulpy mango juice on the table—made at home and delicious—and two sisters trying not to talk over each other. They mostly fail. Isha and Shreya Namburu, five years apart and still finishing each other’s sentences, are settled into the living room of their palatial family home in Jubilee Hills, Hyderabad.
The two stylish siblings are part of the city’s elite social set—Isha recently returned from New York where she spent years working in marketing while Shreya, the elder one, founded Tiltrade, a chemicals trading platform, two years ago and is already eyeing international markets. Their wardrobes, much like the rest of their lives, are both entirely their own and somehow also shared—and if Shreya borrows something and forgets to return it, Isha has learned to simply show up and collect.
Growing up, the sisters never fought over clothes, because the dynamic had already been decided. Shreya was the shopper, the one poring over every September issue of Vogue since she was 13, cataloguing Seventeen and Tiger Beat like research material. “I still have every copy,” she smiles. Isha, younger, simply helped herself. “I always wore her clothes,” she says plainly. “She was more interested in fashion growing up, and I just borrowed.”
Over time however that relationship to clothing has evolved. While Shreya describes herself as, “a hoarder. If I like a piece, it stays forever. I have clothes from 15 years ago and I’m not sorry about it. I literally feel like I’m thrifting from my own wardrobe,” Shreya laughs. Isha, on the other hand, runs a capsule wardrobe with the detachment of someone who finds joy in the editing. “I donate when I’m done,” says Isha.
Two wardrobes, one green dress
Their styles, they’ll tell you, have converged—but only up to a point. Shreya gravitates towards the feminine and flowy, anchored by really good tailoring. She’s devoted to French labels like Sézane and Soeur and on a recent trip to Spain discovered Sissel— a brand made entirely in India but tailored with a very European hand. Her wardrobe staples come from Australian brands like Bénni and Dissh, who she is drawn to for their languid, understated appeal. “Both brands are targeted towards a very specific kind of woman,” she explains. “It’s easier when you find a brand that gets you and you just go there. I don’t want to be shopping somewhere that's trying to cater to five different types of people.”
Isha, by contrast, spent her New York years dressing for work first and everything else after that. The result is a closet that’s still chock full of brands like Frame, Aritzia or The Frankie Shop, for pieces that could go from the office to dinner, all of it anchored by statement jewels from Alexis Bittar. “She dressed up a lot in New York,” Shreya adds about her sister. “In the office, everybody around you was dressed up, but always in tailored suits and blazers.” Isha shrugs. “I got away with more fun clothes because I was in marketing. But yes, you always had to look nice, nice.”
The clearest illustration of how their wardrobes are shared yet divergent is a single green Bénni dress—fitted and flowy, with the kind of ease that photographs well anywhere. Shreya bought it. Isha borrowed it and wore it to a bridal shower. “I would wear it on vacation,” Shreya says. “She took it somewhere completely different.” Each styled it differently too: Shreya added a belt, a chain, and a full stack of bracelets for a beachside-ready look. Isha, kept it more minimal, reaching for a statement belt or a single piece of jewellery, just enough to elevate the dress for a special occasion. “I accessorise a lot,” Shreya says. “She does one thing and somehow it’s enough.”
