Rohit Bal (1961-2024): Fashion’s Showstopper

IT WAS 1989. There was a new talent in town, Rohit Bal. His first show at the multi-brand store Ogaan in Delhi, dedicated entirely to men, with sherwanis, angrakhas and kurtas with subtle surface ornamentation, was a dream collection in shades of ivory. It sold out within 20 minutes to an India hungry for its own design sensi­bility. It also set the template for Indian menswear designers for posterity.

A history graduate of St Stephen’s College, Delhi, trained at the National Institute of Fashion Technology, Bal was one of the first wave of designers in the country, along with the late Rohit Khosla, Tarun Tahiliani, Suneet Varma, Ritu Beri, and Abu-Sandeep. With an aura larger than his pixie self, a swagger born of innate confidence, and a love of the good life, Bal not only defined high fashion, he also ruled Delhi society in the days when Page 3 was still prized real estate.

Bal was one of the interpreters of liberalised India, who was able to blend the richness of Indian textile traditions with Western silhou­ettes. He gave men the courage to wear light linen suits, embellished sherwanis and translucent shirts. His friend, who often took the same U-Special bus to St Stephen’s College, Tarun Tahiliani, says it was a time of fearlessness, “It was a time of unbridled creativity, when business did not dictate what we did.”

Bal, known as Gudda to even those he did not know, was a one-man spectacle, a mischievous maverick who was the life of the party and the showstopper of every fashion show. No one could have been a better ambassador of Kashmir than Bal. The Srinagar-born designer was part of the generation that redefined Indian fashion, taking it out of its home­made handloom phase into a sharper, smarter, easier to wear silhouette, but infused with the country’s rich heritage.

Other designers still struggle to create something that stands apart from that format of ornamentation and opulence in fabric and embellishments. He gave men the confidence to wear an Indian label, and women the comprehension that Kashmir was not merely the source for kani shawls and jamawar jackets.

Raghavendra Rathore, a designer who continues Bal’s legacy of constructed menswear, says he was a force of life, a man whose magnanimous heart and boundless energy touched all who crossed his path. He says, “I recall watching him in awe during my first show in Jodhpur in 1994 as he guided and cho­reographed supermodels with an elegance that defined him. His legacy is woven into the fabric of Indian fashion—a testament to glamour, grace, and showmanship that will live on.”

Designer Rina Dhaka, who first met Bal in 1990, calls him the only designer in India with a movie star charisma, and perhaps it stems from his family’s roots in cinema. His family, Punjabis domiciled in Kashmir, owned cinema theatres Regal and Amresh Talkies in Srinagar and ran a garment export business where Bal first cut his artistic teeth. As he said to a magazine once: “I started work with my brother, and in no time textiles, fabrics, patterns and designs took over my life. It made me realise that this was my calling.” For eight years, he said, he slogged away, 18 hours a day, learning everything there was to learn about a garment: “I sat with our master tailors, button-makers, fabric-cutters, braiders and embroiderers. And maybe I am technically more sound than a lot of designers who spend four years in a design school. I was learning from within and without.”

Bal’s family, punjabis domiciled in Kashmir, owned cinema theatres Regal and Amresh talkies in Srinagar and ran a garment export business, where he first cut his artistic teeth

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As much as his design was about attention to detail, the show was about spectacle. Designer Madhu Jain still recalls the 1993 Ensemble fashion show in Mumbai where Bal made a young Arjun Rampal and Milind Soman walk sensuously down the ramp, with Mehr Jesia, a supermodel who later married Rampal, begging Bal to dial it down. That embodied his playful spirit, says Jain.

But as much as his work was about light and love, his per­sonal life was always chaotic and controversial. The noughties fashion scene was one of excess of all kinds and Bal was its head priest. Arguments, fallouts, name-calling, and conspiracy theo­ries were common, as were addictions and indulgences. Page-3 cameramen often caught Bal in action, with a champagne glass in hand, and a few beautiful people of both sexes by his side. That was the era where hedonism was good for a luxury brand. And soon his brand was everywhere, into accessories, interiors, restaurants, even innerwear.

His passing truly marks the end of an era for many. Says veteran publicist Neeta Raheja, “He belonged to a generation of designers who had a distinct voice of their own and were appreciative of design and aesthetics around them. I first met him in 1993. The fashion scene those days was very selective and niche. The designers, many of whom are the doyens of to­day, saw their contemporaries as friends and colleagues and not competition. There existed a healthy dialogue among them, and they were equally passionate about their dissent. They all grew together to where they stand today—each distinct in their fashion vocabulary and style. In that sense, he truly was perhaps the last few of his league who respected his colleagues for their creativity, forged deep friendships, acknowledged good design and yet, did not hesitate twice before making his opinion known.”

Nandita Abraham, dean, BITS Pilani Design School in Mumbai, says Bal’s contributions have been pivotal in bridging the gap between trans-generational craftsmanship and modern fashion. “His work not only celebrates the rich heritage of Kashmir but also highlights the importance of preserving and promoting Indian design on a global scale. Through his in­novative approach, Bal helped to sustain the artistry of Kashmiri craftsmen and ensured that their skills are recognised and appreci­ated in the contemporary design landscape. He worked with pash­mina and woollen textiles, often collaborating with craftsmen and emphasising the value of techniques like zardozi and sozni,” she says.

Much before designers got bought by rich industrialists and became handmaidens to Bollywood stars, there was an artist, one of a handful, who took the best from Indian textile traditions and made the rich look good, and those who wanted to be rich aspire to look better.

He embodied classy extravagance. Recalls Dhaka, “I first met Gudda when we were very young. I was in school, he had this mane of curly red hair and he made every place fun with his presence. Boring places got animated if he walked into a party and no one left until he did. He epitomised cool.”

But Bal’s health was fragile and though his professional star was always on the ascendant, it didn’t necessarily translate into a state of grace in his private life.

With his gold tinted hair, his outsize lifestyle and his undeni­able brilliance, he created a legacy over 35 years. He didn’t always walk a straight line, but then which outlier does?

About The Author

Kaveree Bamzai

Kaveree Bamzai is an author and a contributing writer with Open

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