My First: Varun Bahl On The Firsts That Shaped His Fashion Journey

As Robb Report celebrates its first anniversary, we decided to take a trip down memory lane with trailblazers across various streams of art, culture, fashion and lifestyle. Designer Varun Bahl is known for his innovative craftsmanship and design sensibilities, which bring a seamless blend of traditional and modern sensibilities to his evolving, ingenious collections. He has come a long way since his debut fashion show in 2001, and was one of the first Indian designers to showcase his collection at Milan Fashion Week in 2004, where he was recognised as one of the most promising young designers.

Varun broke the mould of the bridal design market by rejecting the heady and restrictive nature of wedding attire and giving it a more avant-garde, lightweight and non-conformist sensibility. From championing comfort couture, his signature aesthetic is rooted in delicate and intricate floral stories, vintage motifs and upcycled patchwork embroideries. Rewriting the codes of menswear fashion, he upended the idea of stark, minimalist and rigid structures with his open-front sherwanis, wide-leg trousers and embroidered bomber jackets.

Fondly called the 'Floral Couturier,' his designs and creations have been worn by Priyanka Chopra Jonas, Deepika Padukone, Madhuri Dixit and Karan Johar.

Robb Report India (RR): What is that special first you still remember, and why? Or what was your first professional win and what did it mean to you?

Varun Bahl (VB): There have been many firsts, and all of them have been incredibly special in their own way. From the first garment I ever made to presenting my first collection in India, seeing my work on the runway and having it appreciated by people I greatly admired — Sabina and Anil Chopra, Tina Tahiliani, Rohit Bal, Prahlad Kakkar, Isabella Blow and others — each of those moments gave me a sense that perhaps I was on to something.

Then came Milan. Showing our Spring/Summer 2004 collection at Inside White was a very different kind of experience. I was very young, and suddenly seeing my clothes being looked at and appreciated in a completely different fashion environment was incredibly meaningful. I was voted the best among the designers showcased there, and the collection went on to attract orders from stores across Europe.

What made Milan particularly special was that it wasn’t simply a launch. It was a validation of the instinct I had been following. I had taken a somewhat unconventional route, but I had simply gone with the flow and trusted what felt right.

Looking back, those moments gave me a sense that the instinct I had trusted might have taken me somewhere beyond the world I knew. It made the world feel a little bigger.

RR: How did you celebrate your firsts?

VB: Quietly, with a smile, gratitude and a sense of achievement. But for me, achievement has always been more about motivation than celebration.

I have never been someone who feels the need to make a big ceremony out of every milestone. In fashion, one achievement very quickly becomes the starting point for the next challenge. You finish one collection, one show, one project, and almost immediately you are thinking about what comes next.

So I think I have always celebrated firsts by taking a moment to acknowledge them, enjoying the feeling, and then getting back to work. The people around you, the conversations, the recognition — all of that stays with you, but the real excitement is in seeing where that first can take you.

A first opens a door. What matters is what you do once you walk through it.

RR: What’s the next first you’re looking forward to?

VB: Of course, we look ahead. After more than two decades, there aren’t that many obvious firsts left, but I think the most exciting ones are often the ones you don’t see coming.

At this stage, I am less interested in doing something simply so I can say I have done it for the first time. I am more interested in experiences that have a reason behind them — something that challenges the way I think, takes the work somewhere unexpected or allows me to see my own language differently.

The Kashmir show was a good example of that. It was not something I had been waiting to tick off a list; it happened because the opportunity and the moment came together. Those are the kinds of firsts that excite me now.

There are still some surprises to unfold, and I rather like that. I don’t think you should know everything that is coming next. Some of the best things happen when you leave a little room for the unexpected.

RR: What first lesson did this special first teach you?

VB: It taught me that you have to develop a point of view before you develop a reputation.

When you are starting out, there is a temptation to look around and understand what is working — what people are buying, what the market wants, what other designers are doing — and then respond to it. But fashion has a long memory. If you spend your career responding to the moment, you eventually disappear with it.

The first real lesson was to trust my instincts, even when they weren’t necessarily the easiest commercial choice. Over time, I learnt that people don’t only come to you for a garment; they come to you for a perspective

RR: Who was the one to believe you when you achieved this first? Or who was the first person to open a professional door for you and how did it change your life?

VB: My family gave me something more valuable than a professional opportunity — they gave me the freedom and support to take the risk. My brothers, my mother and my father were all incredibly important in those early years. Their moral support and encouragement gave me the confidence to keep going, even when there was no certainty about where the journey would lead.

When you choose a creative career, particularly at the beginning, there is a lot of uncertainty. You don’t have the comfort of knowing exactly where it will lead. Having people around you who don’t constantly ask you for a five-year plan is quite liberating. Although, eventually, everyone does start asking for one.

And professionally, my brother Vishal Bahl was fundamental. Without him, all of the above would not have been possible. Building a fashion house requires you to wear many different hats. You remain a designer, but you also have to become a businessman, a problem solver and someone who understands everything that happens behind the scenes.

I was fortunate to have my brothers Vishal & Vivek alongside me through that journey, along with the support of my family. Looking back, I realise that while the first step may be yours, you rarely take the entire journey alone.

RR: What were the first challenges and how did you overcome them?

VB: The first challenge was that I was trying to build something at a time when the idea of the Indian fashion designer was itself changing. A handful of us were going outside India and showing on international platforms at a time when Indian designers were still a relatively unfamiliar presence in that world. We were very much ahead of the curve, and honestly, none of us really knew what we were doing. We were learning as we went.

There was enormous craftsmanship in India, but the conversation around it was often very traditional. I wanted to retain the richness of that craft without allowing it to dictate the entire aesthetic. I wanted the clothes to feel Indian without having to announce that they were Indian.

Those early international experiences could also be intimidating. You were entering rooms where India wasn’t necessarily being looked at with the respect it receives today. But we were selected through a process to show on these international platforms, and that itself was a significant opportunity.

Then there was the less glamorous education of running a business. Production, people, cash flow, clients, deadlines — none of those things care how creative you were feeling that morning.

You overcome those challenges by learning to wear different hats. You remain a designer, but you also become a businessman, a problem solver and, in my case, I was fortunate to have Vishal alongside me through that process. The important thing is not to lose the curiosity that made you start in the first place.

RR: Do you remember your first big failure? What did it teach you?

VB: I’ve had enough of them to know that they are actually quite useful.

One of the early lessons was understanding that more is not necessarily better. When you’re young, you can become very excited by technique. You want to put everything you know into one piece — another embroidery, another texture, another detail. Eventually you realise that the best result often comes from knowing when to stop.

It also taught me not to take rejection personally. A collection can fail, a garment can fail, an idea can fail. None of those things mean that you have failed as a designer.

The next collection is always waiting for you, which is both the problem and the great thing about fashion.

RR: What is that one professional first you would want to experience again and why?

VB: I would love to experience the excitement of showing somewhere completely unexpected again.

The Kashmir show was particularly special because it wasn’t simply about putting a runway in a different location. It had cultural, historical and personal resonance. After almost four decades without a fashion show taking place there, the setting itself became part of the story.

For me, it was also deeply emotional because Kashmir is where my family comes from. Its beauty has subconsciously been a source of inspiration for me for years — in colour, in flowers, in the sense of place — even when I wasn’t consciously thinking about it.

I like when fashion has the ability to create a moment that people remember for reasons beyond the clothes. A beautiful collection is wonderful, but if you can attach it to a place, a feeling or an experience that stays with someone, it becomes much more powerful.

RR: Which first changed you the most?

VB: The first time I understood that longevity was more valuable than relevance.

Fashion is designed to make you look at the new constantly. There is always another collection, another trend, another person everyone is talking about. When you’re younger, it’s easy to mistake being talked about for being successful.

Over time, I became much more interested in building a body of work that could stand on its own. I want a woman to look at something I designed years ago and still want to wear it today. I want someone to find an old Varun Bahl piece in their wardrobe and feel that it has aged well.

That, to me, is a far more interesting definition of luxury than simply being new.

RR: What was the first time you surprised yourself?

VB: I think it was when I realised that I could keep changing without losing the DNA of the house.

Florals have been such a recognisable part of my vocabulary for so long that the obvious thing would have been to keep making them bigger, louder and more elaborate. Instead, I became interested in doing the opposite — making them quieter, more abstract, more like a texture than a motif.

And perhaps that is one of the hardest things about Indian bridal couture. People sometimes reduce it to a few colours, a few silhouettes and a lehenga, but a wedding is an entire world that a woman wears. To keep reinventing that world, while still making it unmistakably your own, is incredibly challenging — and deeply satisfying.

That surprised me because it made me realise that evolution doesn’t always require reinvention. Sometimes you take the thing people know you for and look at it from a completely different angle.

After more than two decades, I still find that exciting.