A New Dawn

On the verge of completing four decades in fashion, Rohit Bal is showing no signs of slowing down.

- Shivangi Lolayekar

Forget his wild ways. Rohit Bal means serious business when it comes to fashion. In 38 years, he’s given us many rsts: men in skirts; ornate embroidery; bright roses that weren’t limited to buttonholes but splashed across a decadent sherwani. He played up glamorous menswear at a time when a man’s vocabulary was limited to suits and a local darzi, and gave it place and prominence in the country. In turn, he asked us to step up our fashion game. Everything else you read about him put a human face to the empire – a colourful, honest character checking off the boxes of what was perceived to be an exciting designer from the Noughties. His only weakness? He let you into his boudoir one too many times.

Today, Bal is 57 years old. He strides into his Defence Colony dedicated menswear agship, wearing a polo with his collar half rolled up and white trousers skimming his moccasins. His hair, a curly cloud of salt and pepper with flecks of gold. His dark sunglasses firmly in place in the dimly lit atelier. All he’s missing is a Cubano. Bal tends to a groom-to-be, convincing him that the ornate sherwani he’s trying on won’t outshine his bride. The girl and her mother standing there think otherwise.

If Bal sought to bring menswear on a level playing field with womenswear then, he’s still its cogent spokesperson today. He dismisses a new generation of designers as being unoriginal and lazy, and believes he can take men’s fashion to its necessary peak: clothes that won’t need your mother-in-law’s approval.

Two years ago, you told GQ that menswear hadn’t evolved.