Wills India Fashion Week 2012
Today I visited Wills India Fashion Week today for the second time in last one week since its begining. Tonight was a Grand Finale by famous Indian Designer Ritu Kumar who is known for her extensive use of indian hand crafted textiles, embroidery and ethnicity explosion in her designs.
However, before reaching the Finale one had an option to sit through other designer exhibits as well which is a mix of many young and talented pink blood.
The Fashion Week in India is almost a decade old concept now and it was picked up to mirror the marketing and business model of fashion industries of other countries. Its primarily managed by FDCI which is the promotional body of indian fashion in India and abroad. If India was still a socialist country, you could very well call it the Labour Union of Indian Fashion. However, it relies heavily on designers and thus has quite weak legs of its own. Its format of fashion week is not unique. Its a copy of western style fashion weeks format. It goes like this: 5 weeks. Almost 5 designers every day. One Title Sponsor (thus instead of India Fashion Week or Delhi Fashion Week, its called Will India Fashion Week thus the commercialization of the whole concept is right at it top, even before its name). One manually glamourised venue (it takes place in a govt. trade fair space called Pragati Maidan i.e. Progress Ground where one giant hall is designed aesthetically for 5 days). To cut the long observation data short and join the juicy clips, lets fast forward to the experience.
As you began hovering down at the whole event the first thing you notice from up high in the sky like an eagle, is how colorful, cheerful and free the dotted crowd appears from there. There are beautiful models, fully made-up and dressed in skimpy clothes smoking confidently among the dull, brown-grey-dark crowd of water guys, labors, rehri-walas and boring amber light of delhi’s public spaces. They shine in that environment, a promise of hope, spectacle and positivity in this corruption ridden, poverty ridden land, you fly around young boys dressed up themselves straight from the Coldplay videos wearing Red, Green, Yellow, mustard trousers with brown belts, white shirts and donning a detective’s hat like Jason Miraz; slipping out from the main gate like papers in a xerox machine one after another like photocopy of Gap ads from 90’s. There are security guards proudly guarding the mecca of higher society and pumped up high on testosterones with so much glamour. They are drenched in that temporary power which gets bestowed upon them by this position. you see that look when these gym hitting town-youths are employed on weekends to guard privilege venues like high profile clubs, pubs, concerts and fashion events. To be continued…