How brands like Nicobar and Raw Mango are changing the way India dresses

Fashion is often perceived to be a space lit by strobe lights. But this is a story of those who came in from the penumbra and changed the lights altogether. Ten years ago, Raul Rai, who was transitioning from his banker profile, pondered over a key question: would he wear something off the ramp? More importantly, would he wear what he designed himself and carry it through the day, from desk to dancing? “There were many like me who wanted a simpler, more relaxed and effortless comfort wear. There was space for an alternative aesthetic that felt just as glamorous but with an Indian point of view, without being viewed through a Western lens or feeling overtly ethnic,” says the co-founder of Nicobar, which is one of the leading disruptors in the fashion space once dominated by legacy couturiers and their pret lines.

Before him, another finance professional, Jayashree Krishnan, who was thick into capital markets, found existing fashion brands rigid. Having worked with logistic chains of established fashion brands, she decided to break away on her own in 2009. “Even those rooted to textiles were not doing what the customer wanted. They did nothing for artisanal livelihoods so that our craft printing traditions could command a market,” says the founder of Maati Crafts, known for giving jumpsuits an Indian, free-flowing, body-inclusive look.

A train journey turned out to be the calling for Kirti Poonia, who had been working with the Tata group in 2007. As part of the corporate’s Jagriti Yatra in 2010, she travelled to Mithapur. The village was in the Okhamandal region of Gujarat, where a severe drought had farmers lose their livelihood overnight. Then Ramiben, a skilled applique artisan, took it upon herself to train women and make garments for local markets. With support from the Tatas and some training, she started Okhai in 2002, one of the first fashion brands to have craftspeople as stakeholders. When Poonia met them, she was stunned not only by their talent but their pride of owning their craft. “Everybody needed to see this craft which was at once hyperlocal and global in appeal,” she had said at the time. She created an e-marketplace with the Okhai website in 2015, got the women trained in contemporary styling and post Covid, made it a thriving online brand.

Nicobar’s contemporary and free-flowing aesthetic

A decade ago, Indian fashion largely occupied two ends of the spectrum — couture reserved for weddings and celebrations and mass-market apparel stripped of craft. Today, a growing crop of design-led labels is building an alternate space, where handloom saris can enter boardrooms, block prints can become workwear and craft can be worn every day rather than saved for special occasions. A slew of labels has frothed up, broken the elitism of fashion and become part of everyday life.

Instead of relying on the ramp, modern labels pull inspiration directly from everyday life and a deep engagement with online sub-cultures. Most importantly, they have opened up the fashion market to people whom traditional designers previously ignored — the workplace Indian, the aspirant Indian and the conversation-starter Indian.

“India’s fashion industry is not just going through disruption. It is undergoing a deeper structural transition. The shift is from designer-led, personality-driven brands to systems-driven, consumer-responsive businesses. What we are seeing today is not simply the emergence of new brands but a redefinition of how value itself is created and perceived. The rise of digitally native, scalable and sustainability-oriented brands reflects this shift,” says Prof Nirbhay Rana, faculty member at IILM University Gurugram.

But what has surprised him is the growing emphasis on karigar-focused approaches, both independent and corporate-led. “What is significant is that scale and craft, once seen as fundamentally incompatible, are now being negotiated within the same business models,” he adds.

A study by Deloitte shows the emergence of a new segment called premium apparel, typically priced between Rs 3,500 and Rs 7,000. “Premium apparel is projected to grow even faster, at over 45 per cent CAGR, driven by rising aspirations, improving disposable incomes and increasing willingness to invest in quality-led fashion,” says the report. Businesswise, these brands are catching up with the big players. Nicobar has already crossed Rs 200 crore in annual revenue without any external venture capital. Raw Mango’s has touched a little higher than Rs 100 crore. Compare that to the revenue of the Tarun Tahiliani brand, which was Rs 350 crore.

The rise of the disruptors

Industry observers say the rise of these labels coincides with the emergence of a new Indian consumer — professionals in their 30s and 40s with growing disposable incomes, strong digital habits and a desire to buy fewer but better things. They are willing to pay more than fast-fashion prices but are not necessarily looking for couture.

Prof Rana argues that these brands succeed because they solve three long-standing problems. “First, they offer thoughtfully created products at more accessible price points. Second, they foreground narratives around sourcing, production, ethics and sustainability. Third, they align with a generational shift in consumption, where buyers are not only purchasing products but subscribing to values and identities. Equally important is their ability to bypass retail constraints through direct-to-consumer models.”

Nicobar chose the anti-fit trend and ticked off the checklist of body inclusivity. “In fact, when we launched our first collection in black-and-white, many people thought we were crazy to do so in a country known for its love of colour. But we believed there was space for a more understated way of dressing. Now customers have evolved with us and have a greater openness to exploring contemporary silhouettes and ways of dressing,” says Rai, who conceived of the brand with wife Simran Lal. Now it is the cubicle-to-club favourite.

The viral linen sari by Anavila Misra

Meanwhile, Maati works on smart and crisp communication. “Chikankari has a legacy of 100 years. But look at its popularity today, which was missing even 10 years ago. That’s where communication and adaptability come in,” says Krishnan, who has contemporised block prints. And unlike designer pret lines, which are trimmed down versions of their couture lines and may not always adapt to standardised size curves or diverse body types, she focuses on where the construction of a dress has to be loosened, tweaked or cinched. She did 15 different iterations of the jumpsuit in silk and cottons. “I do fit checks across sizes, looking at how a garment is riding up when the wearer lifts their arms or moves,” says Krishnan.

The rise of a parallel market

Twenty years ago, textile designer Sanjay Garg was quite done with the embellished look of a sari as ceremonial wear. Either that or an elderly drape. He decided to challenge the sari stereotype by transforming Chanderis and Banarasis into modern, minimalist, airy silhouettes that sit as easy in a metro as in a boardroom. Earlier this year, he showed how Kanjivaram silks could be both luminescent and sedate at the London Fashion Week. “There is still a strong association between Indian fashion and a certain kind of aesthetic — heavy gold embroidery and maximalist ensembles. Indian fashion is too often quantified — it’s not seen for its innate aesthetic value but the number of hours it took a weaver to create a garment. It’s a surface-level engagement that sometimes drowns out the beauty of the weave itself,” says the founder of Raw Mango.

Designer Anavila Misra, who briefly worked on a project with the rural development ministry, realised that she needed a sari that was work-friendly in bureaucratic spaces. She worked with weavers from Phulia in Bengal to put out a line of linen saris in 2011. “This was a pristine space with no legacy to be followed. I chose to highlight design more than just craft,” she says. The result was a new clientele. Bengaluru-based marketing professional Sujata Narayan says she bought her first Anavila sari because it felt “less intimidating” and could be worn to work as easily as to family gatherings. “It didn’t feel like extra effort. It felt like me,” she says.

Although all these labels claim to be age-agnostic, they resonate with the younger crowd. Misra gets orders on borderless saris from students for their graduation day. Rai prefers to look at buyers “psychographically” and has found that they are self-assured and globally aware, “but with a strong appreciation for local brands, craft and cultural context.” Raw Mango widens the definition of youth. “Be it 20 or 60, handloom is definitely not restrained. Being young is about being open. It is an attitude and not a number. Perhaps that’s why we resonate with everybody,” explains Garg.

Besides, these labels create an alternative space far away from fashion weeks, celebrity endorsements and elite retail spaces. “The people who started working after 2005 are now mid-career. They want to look unique in their wardrobe, are hungry for a fashion edge beyond commercial labels, and are ready to pay. Luxury couture stays static for its takers, the assembly line is for the masses but this middling gap is what’s fuelling the mainstreaming of alternative labels,” says trend analyst Subhash Singh Rajput, a NIFT graduate and head of India wear at Landmark Group, which operates brands such as Lifestyle and Max.

The art of storytelling

Raw Mango defies conventional rules of fashion marketing and believes in digital storytelling. When it launched its collection Agama, featuring outerwear and saris made from mashru, mashru ikat and kantha, Garg shot a video against the backdrop of Kaushambi, a 12th-century BCE archaeological site along the Yamuna in Allahabad, symbolically linking the past to the future and threading them with the running Kantha stitch. The Kantha jackets themselves incorporate offcuts or leftover material from the designer’s studio. This constant conversation with culture and sustainability has won over a new thinking demographic.

Krishnan worked on a feedback loop with offline pop-ups and travelling exhibitions that enabled her understanding of what people wanted. “Maati had one store in Mumbai and there was a time when it was listed as a shopping destination for tourist groups. Then they made reels that amplified our arc. That real world connect helped us transition online better,” she adds. The digital interface helped Rai build an online community around a shared way of living. “This has helped us enter real lives and real homes, often in ways that are more relatable than traditional advertising,” he says. Their fortnight long Nico dress carousel on Instagram, featuring regular women in real world settings, generated not only 5X return on ad spend, but a 30 per cent lower cost per purchase. Mostly it encouraged women who had never worn a dress to wear one. And find themselves not in conflict with either their sari or workwear. “Such digital stories help because consumers then see themselves as participants rather than buyers,” explains Prof Rana.

Maati’s anytime workwear

The retail strategy

Now that disruptive fashion labels have claimed mainstream attention, people want more offline stores for the touch-and-feel experience. Both Krishnan and Misra are now thinking of expanding their footprint beyond Mumbai for the first time by curating sensory displays and backstory workshops at their new outlets. “People know Maati like a family, like a baby growing up. We will be supplementing our new store with childcare and menswear accessories, providing more value,” says Krishnan.

Garg has consciously located his stores in heritage buildings, like a 1900s Art Deco building in Kolkata or a modernist villa in Hyderabad. His pieces are kept in almirahs, glass cabinets or behind curtains to let the buyer explore, a deliberate moving away from swanky uniformity of boutique stores. “I entered for the experience first and ended up buying a sari,” says Sriparna Sarkar, a first-time label buyer in Kolkata.

In many ways, these brands have reversed old rules of the game. Instead of celebrities creating demand, demand among consumers has attracted celebrities. Actor Konkona Sen Sharma is seen posting reels whenever she wears Raw Mango while Vidya Balan, Farah Khan and Ratna Pathak Shah have been endorsing Maati. “But these are organic, not paid partnerships. I still prefer knowing each of my buyers first-hand,” says Krishnan.

The in-betweeners have not only been disruptive but split the fashion industry wide open. Big corporates like Tata and the Aditya Birla group have launched retail chains, Taneira and Aadyam, to sell handwoven Indian textiles sourced from weaver clusters. In the face of such a competitive challenge, can scale and sustainability co-exist? “We were always and will be away from noise and focus instead on ease of being,” says Rai. “Sonali Bendre once said that our saris call out to her. Till we have that, we will be around,” says Misra.