SATYA PAUL: LIQUID ASSETS
Prasad Bidapa, John Abraham & David Whitbread

Satya Paul reinvented his oeuvre with a collection that ran the gamut from the sari to the kameez-as-dress. He’s always been known for the tactile fluidity of his fabrics, and in the past has done clothes known also for their print design. Now, house scion Puneet Paul takes over the reins. Strong imagery en hommage to Mondrian and maybe Klee were block-printed on saris and the black and white border made a good connector to sarees that when draped became abstract overlays of a nicely balanced palette – like frost pink and clear lemon teamed with orange and ochre.

The kameez-as-dress was a smart idea, paring it down by losing the churidar and dupatta. It fitted snugly, slinkily revamping the Paul style.

Jewelled saris toyed with ornamentation, sometimes stripping the fabric of adornment and sometimes allowing the palla to become the jewelry, garnishing it with stones and winding it around necks, draping it cowl-wise. Jacquard weaves provided more texture, and the cholis were definitely adaptable, just waiting to be worn with low-slung jeans. But Paul’s interpretation of prêt is calibrated to allow niche buying into the collection, thanks to its being organized into specific stories – something a lot of the other collections’ rather random sequencing seem to make difficult.

RITU KUMAR: MOCASUAL KUMAR

Ritu is a tower of strength rather like the traffic warden or the Boy Scout who help kids and old ladies cross the road. She keeps the uncertain young trousseau-shopper and the women-of-a-certain age from being run over by fashion’s hit-and-run drivers. She’s bang-on clear about whom she’s dressing, a customer who (or whose mother) probably grew up wearing Ritu and wouldn’t dream of migrating elsewhere.

At Fashion Week, she firmly but kindly showed them how to crossover from trad to trendy with her opening of embroidered denim, indigo-dyed & distressed. Helping them along were African prints, all in narrow but wearable shapes.

There was a brown line and a white line, both with mokaish, both of which were as safe as suburbia. But very high-end: Ritu really was the first and there’s no denying the experience and the expertise that inform all she does.

Her finale – trousseau and festive – was from her new Ri label, cloth of gold with zardosi, and patterned with paisleys. It was lavish, reliable, and will sell like hot mokaish. Sorry about that, again, but when else can the inner punster play the giddy goat most except at Fashion Week?

ANSHU ARORA SEN: ONE SHOE OFF AND AN SHU ON

Clever girl, Anshu, and very, very talented. So forward-thinking, the shapes, the fabrics, such purity of expression, such austerity of line even in Nirula’s strawberry milkshake and Rooh Afza pinks. It’s people like her who Fashion Week showcases best. Even if the opening dress, lovely, directional cut, had a dodgy collar in white, Anshu beti, kya soch rahi thi?

This is design that’s reflective, contemplative and quiet. The collection was tightly edited, with great blouses. Some were bias-cut, some had tie-ups, others were backless and one had an interesting flap detail. For some, she did beaded edging and ruching on side seams. Stretch lace Ts were over-embroidered: another effect that’s going to be influential. Linings added jolts of bright colour as in a long black sheath with detachable sleeves which had turquoise for its own lining.

Cutting on the bias was used for skirts and handkerchief hems too. One stood out for its crisp white lace waistband. There wasn’t much outerwear in evidence, but we have to single out a jacket with Naga-inspired embroidery. For definition, cords tied up silhouettes like parcels: edgy and savvy. And her shoes were killer-point bedroom slippers that were definitive, if apparently a trifle difficult to keep on.

MALANI RAMANI: TRIPPY, HIPPIE, AND STILL HOT TO TROT

The maturing of Malani: shock just doesn’t do it anymore and she knows this. Her Fashion Week collection was a jolt to the system, yes, but there was also elegant colouring, cutting and detailing. The jolts were the cheeky graffiti: Panjim Princess, Beach Bitch and Chokri, just to let us know that there’s still plenty of Page 3 voltage in the girl yet. Good thing, too. Hippie rules, from Ibiza to the Ramani studio: from head-to-toe, starting with her mirrorwork headscarves down to the psychedelic hemming and trippy edging on her mostly calf-length skirts and generously boot-cut pants. Sonali Rozario came out as a glitter milkmaid complete with pail in gold-tinted sari with leather tassels: the dairy as club. Perilously sheer jumpsuits, fitted as tight as she could make it, had animal print panels running wild. Chikan work made several, vivid appearances: what would ladies at SEWA have to say?

She then moved into Resort, with sequined breastplate and panty under a sheer beach wrap. There was rainbow bandhni as lush as anything in the jungles of Bali, were followed by more flora and fauna imagery. And a tropical bride in a hothouse lily white skirt that should have even the toucans panting.