A Particular Kind of Pink: Anushree Reddy Brings Her Pastel World to Delhi

The pink was clear in her head. Getting someone else to see it was the problem.

Shopping for her sister’s wedding 25 years ago, Anushree Reddy wanted a particular vintage pink. She described the shade, explained the outfit and waited. When it finally arrived, it was brown.

“I realised nobody understood my pink,” she recalls.

Hyderabad designer Anand Kabra eventually offered a solution, wrapped in exasperation: “You’re so irritating, you should just make your own clothes.”

At seven on an evening in Delhi’s Dhan Mill, her colours hang all around her. Soft pinks, washed-out greens, florals spreading across fabric. Guests trickle into the new store, stopping at the entrance to take in the room before moving further in. The music is soft but upbeat. At the decks, model and DJ Janhvi nods along to her set.

Reddy arrives in a mint green corset dress, another pretty pastel shade in a room already full of them. By eight, the gathering has filled out. For now, there is time to look.

Her fifth store in India brings her world of pastels, florals and intricate bridal dressing to Delhi. The flagship will carry all her collections, including limited-edition lines and prints available only at this address. Around her, the clothes give physical form to an eye she learnt to trust long before she had a label.

Born in Hyderabad, Reddy had an MBA rather than a fashion degree. She worked as a fashion editor at a city lifestyle magazine and began making outfits for friends and family with a single tailor. Word spread; the work grew into a couture house.

Through it, she held on to the colours she liked, combining soft shades and vintage florals with Hyderabadi zardozi. Formal training might have given her a vocabulary for what she was doing. She preferred to follow what she could see.

“For me, there’s no rule book to go by,” she says. “That really works to my advantage.”

Room for Her Colours

At Dhan Mill, that instinct extends to the shopping experience. There are different nooks for menswear, bridal clothes and playful prints, giving customers room to move between collections without feeling overwhelmed.

“You can experience all the clothes, pick what you like, and take your time,” Reddy says.

The address offers something else she values: neighbours. In Hyderabad, she has the familiarity of the city where she grew up. In Delhi, being among other designers makes a new market feel more welcoming, both for her and for customers.

In an exclusive interview with OPEN, Reddy talks about the pink that proved elusive, the freedom of being self-taught and what she wants a bride to feel when she walks through the door.

‘I Would Have Broken the Rules Anyway’

You’re self-taught, with an MBA instead of a design degree. What’s the one rule of fashion you’re glad nobody taught you, because you would have broken it anyway?

I feel I don’t have a sense of defined colour. A very senior buyer once told me, in one of my first buying meetings, “It’s funny, you keep telling us, ‘I will take lavender, mix it with some green and put it on another purple.’” They said, “You have no formal education, so there are no rules in your mind.”

A fashion student knows which colours you’re supposed to blend. But I think I work with colour really well because I have no rules. I’ve not been taught anything. For me, there’s no rule book to go by. That really works to my advantage. I would have broken the rules anyway.

Soft pastels and florals have become signatures of your bridal work. Did you set out to challenge the dominance of red, or did you just really like pink?

This journey started when I went shopping for my sister’s wedding. I wanted a particular kind of vintage pink. This was 25 years ago. I realised nobody understood my pink. The one outfit I described in detail, the sort of pink I wanted, ended up being brown when it finally arrived.

I remember Anand Kabra, the Hyderabad designer, once telling me, “You’re so irritating, you should just make your own clothes.”

I’ve always liked a certain genre of clothes. I just stuck to what I believed in. I had this vision of florals and pretty pastels, and I went all in without any second thoughts. I stuck to it for many years to establish it.

A New Address, A Wider Wardrobe

Every one of your stores tells a different story. Hyderabad drew from the Deccan and the Nizams. What is the Dhan Mill store saying that your other spaces haven’t said yet?

For me, the Dhan Mill store is expansive in terms of what I’ll house here. It’s my biggest flagship in Delhi, so it will carry all our collections, even the limited-edition ones, which will be just here. They won’t be with any other multi-retail design stores.

You can look forward to lots of limited-edition lines, and a couple of prints that will be available only here. That’s the exciting part.

Dhan Mill has become a design destination in Delhi. Does the address change how you think about a store?

I’m not from Delhi, so it’s much simpler for me to be part of a community here. In Hyderabad, I have my own space, which is probably not in the midst of many designers, but it’s easier where you were born and brought up. It’s just more home.

In Delhi, Dhan Mill lends a phenomenal community experience. Whoever comes, from wherever, finds it easier to shop. I’ve always asked my friends, “What do you do when you go to Delhi?” They say, “We do Mehrauli and we do Dhan Mill.” So I figured it makes the experience easier for the customer. It’s a good energy here.

Take Your Time

If a bride noticed just one detail that made her fall in love with the space, what would it be?

I think it would be the soothing effect of the store. We have lots of garments, but they won’t overwhelm you. You can experience all the clothes, pick what you like, and take your time.

We have different nooks for different people. There’s menswear, then bridal, which is totally different, then a bit of fun prints. I think brides will like the expansiveness, and an experience where the sections don’t clash with each other.

Once, Reddy waited for an outfit to arrive in the colour she had imagined. At Dhan Mill, another woman can walk between the racks, take her time and look for a shade she has in mind.

Perhaps a particular kind of pink.