Fashioning India For The Olympics
We examine whether the backlash directed at our contingent’s ceremonial uniforms is in fact wholly valid — and ask whether we should be discussing their visual appeal rather than focussing on the challenges and concerns of the athletes

I write this opinion piece on the state of India’s ceremonial uniforms while patiently watching our esteemed athletes compete in the Paris 2024 Olympics. As the world’s most populous nation, India’s medal tally at Olympics past and present falls short of our country’s untapped human potential.
Yet signs of our ability to excel exist on many global platforms, fashion being one of them. Many of our designers — who have made Indian crafts, be it handlooms or embellishments their signature trademark — are celebrated at global fashion weeks. A handful have won the prestigious International Woolmark Prize and most recently in 2023, designer Rahul Mishra received the insignia of Chevalier de l’Ordre des Arts et des Lettres (Knight of the Order of Arts and Letters) from the Ambassador of France on behalf of the French government for his contribution to fashion and commitment to Indian craft. Our textiles — khadi, Madras check, jamdani, ikat, to name but a few — are valued and recognised the world over and are currently highly fashionable among artisanal fashion connoisseurs. Closer to home, these same textiles, especially those that come under the umbrella of handloom and khadi, are preserved, celebrated, exhibited, and lectured upon at a multitude of events — and on days like the National Handloom Day. In addition, the Indian government has set numerous schemes to uplift the makers of these textiles. Many of our weaves have been given GI (geographical indication) tags in an effort to promote their production.
In this context, the ceremonial uniforms designed by Tasva, a menswear label from Tarun Tahiliani in partnership with a large corporate house, for the 2024 Olympics come as a surprise. Designed to dress “our champions on their most special day”, the men’s outfits consist of a “classic kurta bundi silhouette…modernized with panel detailing, safari pockets, and rolled-up sleeves, enhancing both style and practicality”. The women’s sari features “a pre-pleated design for convenience and ease of wear”. The sari is made of viscose crepe, a semi-synthetic material; using a chemical process, the fibre is extracted from wood pulp. The base colour of the uniforms is a natural white while the green-and-saffron-patterned panels, stitched to the edges of the garments, are “ikat-inspired” digital prints. Taken together, this palette echoes that of the Indian tricolour flag. Tahiliani’s design team noted that the uniforms were designed to live up to the prestigious setting they would be showcased at — on our athletes sailing down the Seine — while also ensuring they were comfortable at all times.
The critiques for these uniforms have been swift, continuous and cohesive across all platforms, barring perhaps the Indian fashion press and design fraternity that has remained largely silent. Countless news articles and social media posts have called the men’s styles average and akin to the uniforms issued to hospitality staff in restaurants and hotels. The use of semi-synthetic textile and digital ikat prints for the saris has received the most heated critique especially from the sari-wearing community on social media (check out Vijaylaxmi Chhabra and Pritha Dasmahapatra’s Instagram accounts for the most eloquent summaries and deep comment sections).
Such critique may be considered valid by those reflecting on the intriguing narrative of craft and self-reliance that thrives in India and the way traditional garments like the sari lend themselves to exciting and innovative drape explorations as seen in the works of contemporary fashion designers like Rimzim Dadu, Gaurav Gupta and Rashmi Varma. The unremarkable gold Banarasi brocade sneakers were unable to rescue public opinion about the uniforms and seemed to be overlooked in these reviews. It would however be relevant here to mention that Tahiliani has showcased what he, in fact, has been credited with initiating in the world of fashion. He was amongst the first to showcase the pre-stitched concept sari from the very early 2000s while state-of-the-art digital printing on fabric has also been said to be his innovation that now has become a mainstay of design. However, the impact of the Olympic ceremonial uniforms was diluted since today, grabbing eyeballs on different platforms has become a competitive sport in itself.
Tahiliani is known for his signature opulence and exquisite wedding couture that blends Indian crafts with traditional silhouettes. He is undoubtedly a pioneer in this space and has played a critical role in the establishment of India’s fashion identity. He is, however, a confusing choice for such an occasion — to design uniforms for our top sporting contingent, ones that require functionality and cutting-edge style, that would embody our athletes’ aspirations and striving for success.
The ace couturier has defended his design decisions by stating that the Olympics are no place for bridal couture that involves painstaking embroidery and elaborate garments. Did the designer go a bit too far perhaps in reigning in his normal elaborate design aesthetic at a time when we, as a country, have come into our own in the modern world in various ways? The investment in design from other sporting nations — the United States, Great Britain and even Mongolia — tells us that this is indeed a platform where high fashion and style enhance the teams’ presence and their aspirations to win.
Tahiliani’s design team’s statements to the press (of which there are many) speak of comfort and compromise. Comfort being their main consideration for designing garments that are not high on innovation. (It is interesting to note that comfort has been a major consideration with Tahiliani who has worked ceaselessly to allow his brides to be able to dance at their own weddings in all their finery.) The latter (compromise) due to the short time frame accorded to designing and delivering the uniforms which affected their choice of materials and ability to commission handwoven textiles.
Comfort for the athletes is a given though some may argue that they should not get so comfortable that they forget there is a competition at hand. Perhaps the room for innovation was limited and the comfort factor took precedence over putting more thought into the “looking like a wow” visual statement that the contingent was perhaps expected to make at the inauguration ceremony. It does seem valid that as far as the Olympics and competitive sports go, the country’s priority should be in training, supporting and validating the athletes in the best way possible while the time to leverage India’s soft power that lies in its rich textile and artisanal heritage is perhaps yet to come.
But this was a place to show our self-esteem and national pride — not just our heritage. And maybe Tahiliani thought that the tricolour was the most impactful way of doing this.