More than he seams: A Wknd interview with designer Akshat Bansal

The Delhi-based Bansal, 31, is the man behind the fashion label Bloni. It’s only five years old, but featured prominently at the recently concluded Paris Fashion Week, where his collection, Preamble, was showcased alongside collections by Balenciaga (whose models walked through a muddy pit, as a metaphor for digging for truth and being down to earth), Dior, Saint Laurent and the Parisian brand Coperni, of the now-famous liquid-polymer spray-on dress worn by Bella Hadid.

“I’ve always envisioned Bloni as a global brand and the showcasing on an international platform gave this dream a huge kickstart,” Bansal says.

At the Paris event, Bansal showcased heat-sensitive polyester dresses that change colour in response to temperature changes; glossy rubber jackets in geometric silhouettes; recycled PET mesh trousers; and bodysuits made of econyl or regenerated nylon sourced from fishing nets.

“I do not make simple clothes for everyday wear. Every piece is born from an ambiguous thought, a challenge to myself, and from an opinion that I want to share with the world. I don’t think one should become a fashion designer if one does not have a strong point of view,” Bansal says.

His collections seek to take the concepts of emotion, art, nature and a technology-driven world and translate them into apparel that is size-agnostic and gender-fluid.

His latest collection, a continuation of Preamble, comprises 40 looks that explore the post-pandemic emotions of separation liberty, constructive lethargy (a sense of achievement in feeling languid) and neo-narcissism. Separation liberty, which celebrates the sorrow and exhilaration of letting go, is reflected in garments such as a tube dress that can be reversed into a pair of trousers, and trousers that can also be worn as sleeves. Neo-narcissism (the idea of embracing your digital self) is reflected in kimonos made of rubber that coddle the wearer. The concept and research for this collection was done in conjunction with Theory & Ego, a culture research and development firm.

“Today we feel a lot more than just angry and upset at the world and I wanted to weave all of those extra, unaccounted-for feelings into my designs. The word ‘sustainable’ has been overused and there is so much greenwashing that’s happening. I would like to define my brand philosophy as being future-friendly,” Bansal says.

Born in Hisar, Haryana, to a homemaker and a successful sari-shop owner, Bansal says he spent more time with karigars or craftspeople, playing with beads and lace, than he did out in the field playing cricket. “I was fascinated by the different fabrics my father sourced from across the country. By about 12 I could easily tell a Kanjeevaram, Banarasi and Paithani apart,” he says.

He knew then that he wanted to be a fashion designer. He was so convinced, he got his parents to take him to the National Institute of Fashion Technology (NIFT) in Delhi, to see if he could get an early start. “I didn’t see why I had to waste my time studying anything else if fashion design was all I wanted to do. However, the dean Vandana Narang patiently explained that a 12-year-old couldn’t possibly handle a graduation course and I’d be better off opting for it in the 11th and 12th standard as an elective first,” he says, laughing.

He eventually made it to NIFT in 2008, aged 17. He soon set his sights on his next target: London’s art and design school, Central Saint Martins (CSM). “By my third year at NIFT, a gnawing restless began where I wanted to push myself into unfamiliar, uncomfortable spaces again. I thrive under pressure,” Bansal says.

While he prepared for CSM, he interned with Delhi design labels such as Dolly J and Lecoanet Hemant, and eventually with Tarun Tahiliani. He would work with Tahiliani for three years, from 2013 to 2016. Then came a year at CSM, and a different kind of hustle.

The competition was exciting, Bansal says, with students from Italy, China, Europe, Africa and North America bringing their rich cultural traditions to the sewing table. Classes were challenging and feedback from tutors and peers was detailed.

“In India, not many people understood the concepts I was trying to play with. We rarely went beyond the syllabus,” Bansal says. Alongside classes, he managed to secure an apprenticeship with Cad & the Dandy on Savile Row. Here, every tailor spends the day dressed in an impeccably tailored suit and bowtie, on their feet in a sparse space with a work table for each man and just two machines in the entire atelier.

“This is where I learned the importance of discipline and precision,” Bansal says. “Everyone was assigned a specific task, be it making arm holes or sewing pockets, and they excelled at doing just that until the end of their stint at the company. Everybody was an equal here. And we worked in suits because we made clothes for executives who have to wear them for hours every day.”

In 2017, Bansal returned to India and launched Bloni (drawn from a family joke, ‘Be like Loni’, Loni being Bansal’s nickname). He had one clear aim, he says: to make gender-inclusive clothes that would make heads turn and leave an impression.

In the Indian market, even couture must be functional and utility-driven, so Bansal’s biggest sources of revenue are the UK and US. “In India, sales are low and fairly scattered. We can have a single sale worth ₹3 lakh and then no sales at all for a week. But I am comfortable knowing I am taking a big risk. It’s all worth it to me,” Bansal says. “If I wanted stability I could have helped my dad run the sari shop, but here I am instead, chasing another difficult dream.”