Illustrations by Vinita Chand

Every kid on the street wanted what I had designed for Hrithik Roshan in Kaho Naa…Pyaar Hai. The clothes and styling played such a big role in the success of this film that the recognition rubbed off on me too!

- Rocky S

Ah India. On the one hand there is the world of Limited Edition, be it a Fendi or LV handbag, a Cynthia Rowley Barbie doll, or simply, a Yaguruma vintage Mikimoto clip. Then, there is the world of Bollywood. Free for all and cheap as chips. One is exclusive, the other intrusive, but both are aspirational, notwithstanding the fact that one dreams in Saharanpur and the other in uptown Malabar Hill. Bandana Tewari unspools the changing story of Bollywood style and discovers its new crop of contemporary stylists

For generations, Bollywood has been a kaleidoscope of our changing times, our fashions and styles. Its sheer temerity has allowed itself to tide against a deluge of elitist hangovers that has seen Bollywood ridiculed since the time Jeetendra began wearing his white shoes and Govinda his truck-driver vest with a ‘Rani’ pink scarf.

There was, however, an era in Bollywood which once saw ’50s Dev Anand styled as impeccably as Gregory Peck, Madhubala’s Hollywood-esq grandeur and Geeta Bali’s casual ‘western flair’ in frock-style kurtis. And, of course, Sadhana’s cinematic fashion was so formidable at that time, she could easily have produced one of the finest look-books of ’60s Indian glam.

The ’70s hippie bohemia was best represented by Zeenat Aman, the actress who brought to Bollywood the image of the ‘westernised’ and ‘modernised’ woman. She wore sun hats and skimpy bikinis and swayed her hips with a lustful allure, an assertion of sexuality that got processed beyond recognition by her successors. The stars became larger than life while mere mortals who idolised them penny pinched and jostled for living space. But dreams continued to be woven for the masses as Dimple Kapadia in Bobby whitewashed our woes in the shortest of skirts in tartan checks and Lolita-esque ponytails.

Then the ’80s happened and ruined the fun. Film fashion in the ’80s was at best trailer-trash cool and, at worst, a fancy dress party gone horribly wrong. There was a surfeit of tacky leather, nauseating colours, rib-crunching tops, ugly bustiers and love for everything padded – shoulders, bums and boobs.

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