Essay · Culture & Dress Codes
From school ties in Delhi’s heat to the quiet confidence of a Pathani salwar—an exploration of formality, comfort, and the company we keep.
From School Ties to Pathani Comfort
“What’s in a dress?” The question sounds simple, but for many of us, it has been a lifelong lesson.
In Delhi’s sweltering summers, schoolchildren sweated through tightly knotted ties, collars choking in 45°C heat. Later, in offices, those same ties became unbearable—ending my jobs faster than deadlines or bosses ever could. That was the first sign that what we call “formal” often has little to do with dignity and much to do with a colonial habit of conformity.
The Colonial Hangover
Dress codes in India have long carried the weight of colonial imitation. Suits, ties, and blazers became the benchmark of respectability, while Indian formals—kurta-pyjama, dhoti-kurta, sherwani—were treated as second-class. The irony is striking: the very attire that leaders wore while shaping India’s independence was later excluded from the halls of elite clubs.
Yet, over time, even Delhi’s colonial-era clubs have had to acknowledge reality. Today, the Gymkhana and other old institutions do recognize kurta-pyjama, dhoti-kurta, and Pathani salwar kameez as national dress—and therefore, as formal. The rules have changed on paper. But in practice, mindsets often remain stuck in the past. A kurta is “ethnic night” chic but still not “boardroom” formal.
Comfort as Confidence
I discovered long ago that real dignity doesn’t come from a necktie. It comes from being comfortable. That’s why I’ve chosen my Pathani salwar as my go-to attire. Simple, rooted in tradition, and dignified without being stiff, it works everywhere—from Delhi’s clubs to international forums.
“When you’re at ease in your clothes, you project confidence. And confidence is the most formal accessory you can ever wear.”
Company Over Costume
Formality isn’t only about what you wear—it’s about how you come together. An evening of laughter with friends will always feel more dignified than an evening of discomfort in three-piece suits.
“It is the warmth of company—not the weight of a collar—that makes any gathering feel worthy.”
Redefining “Formal”
If colonialism made us believe that dignity hangs on a hanger, it’s time to unlearn. “Formal” should mean neat, respectful, appropriate—not suffocating. Whether in a blazer or in a Pathani, formality lies in conduct, not costume.
“Because ultimately, comfort + company are the only real dress codes worth following.”
Author’s note: This essay reflects lived experiences across classrooms, boardrooms, and clubrooms—and a belief that India’s national dress deserves not only recognition in policy but pride in practice.
Shamshir Rai Luthra
Veteran broadcaster and editor, he has shaped India’s radio and television for over four decades. As Founder and Chief Editor of Ashirvachan, he curates voices from art, literature, and civic life. His work bridges media, culture, and community with a vision rooted in conscience and creativity.
