At Anamika Khanna's ICW 2026 Opener, Regal Galas Meet Poetry Under The Moonlight

It has been the season of change everywhere. Bombay's rains have changed. Creative directors in major global fashion houses have changed. Change has reached the India Couture Week, too. Which is why, for the first time in its eighteen-year history, the opening show of India Couture Week has moved beyond the borders of the national capital and into the halls of the Taj Falaknuma in Hyderabad. And who better to lead this change than Anamika Khanna, the first Indian designer ever to have an international label in her name, and a mainstay of Indian fashion weeks ever since the first Lakme Fashion Week in 1999?

Khanna has never been one to be intimidated by the new, and her opening collection for India Couture Week reflected this philosophy. For her latest collection, the designer looked into the history of traditional designs in the country, and looked to give them a life beyond their historicity. Aptly titled Moonlit Palace, the collection saw models stride down the runway in ensembles that dipped between the excesses of an evening gala and a soft midnight rendezvous.

Models walked down the runway in tulle and sheer details. Pitch-black Jodhpurs with metallic threadwork were present alongside delicate lacework in white. Heavy zardozi work and references to Klimt popped up ever so often. Tailcoats were replaced with tulle peaking out of the sides and backs of sherwanis. Boots with wide, upturned toes, an exaggeration of the kind you see in Mojaris and Punjabi Juttis, were worn with flowing satin trousers. Overcoats were embroidered on the front with singular figures, like, say, a dancing woman or animals with heads of men. One look had a model walk down the ramp with the cape pulled to the front and brooches below the chest, forming a mystical cocoon-like silhouette, like the shadows of the night were engulfing the wearer.

The second act, inspired by the rich colours of Barmer, the Rajasthan town Khanna was born in, featured heavy mirrorwork catching every flash of runway light (this is where the Klimt-isms showed up aplenty). Gold foil detailing reflected sparks of its own, 

This was swapped for softer details in the third act, Kalighat, named for evenings spent among Kolkata's riverside artists. Softer silhouettes and gentler lines asked you to look carefully into the cord-like lines connecting different looks. Proportions became soft, almost romantic in an ode to the stillness of the city Khanna grew up in.

Light did more than just illuminate the runway. Bits of mirrors and braided ropes caught each beam, and let it go with every step, turning the runway into a moving gallery of texture and shadow. Khanna's version of craftsmanship behaved like a living thing, shifting shape with every angle of light.

The finale circled back to where the night began, pairing traditional silhouettes with contemporary cuts in a sequence built to mirror the opening walk. 

What held the whole night together, more than any single silhouette or embroidery technique, was the sense that clothing remembers. Every look on that runway carried traces of hands, histories and identities passed down long before Khanna sketched a single sleeve. Moonlit Palace treated its lost civilisation as something never truly gone, waiting in thread and mirrorwork to be found again. And standing at the centre of that rediscovery were the embroiderers, dyers and hand-painters across generations, whose skill and intuition kept these stories alive long enough for a runway inside a century-old palace to tell them all over again.