With King Charles and Chanel backing British hat makers at Royal Ascot, attention turns east. Can India’s legacy of ornate headwear find its moment in the sun?
It was never just about the race. As horses thundered past the stands at this year’s Royal Ascot, the real spectacle played out above eye level. Wide-brimmed marvels, sculptural fascinators, silk rosettes teetering over linen suits and summer dresses — each headpiece a moving canvas. This year, though, something was different. Among the hats were pieces not crafted by couture legends but by students — young, unknown, and full of promise.
Their presence was thanks to a new partnership between The King’s Foundation and Chanel. One graduate received a £10,000 bursary under a 2024 fellowship, mentored by Parisian milliners from le19M, Chanel’s creative hub. For the students, it was more than an award. For Britain, it was a signal: hat-making won’t vanish without a fight.
Meanwhile, in India, the hum of a karigar’s needle often goes unheard. In a Jaipur workshop, an artisan threads zari through silk, shaping a ceremonial turban for a Rajasthani wedding. It will take him three days. His son watches silently — not just learning the technique, but absorbing the uncertainty. Will this tradition sustain them next month?
Accessory designer Dishi Somani, who works with such artisans for her label DishiS Designer Jewellery, sees immense potential — but no platform. “We have everything Royal Ascot has, except the limelight,” she says. “Craftsmanship, legacy, detail — it’s all here. But no one’s putting it on a pedestal.”
She points to India’s rich tradition of head adornments — from the Nizam’s feathered sarpeches to the intricate matha patti and passa of Hyderabadi brides. These pieces were never just embellishments; they signified lineage, mood, and identity. Today, they remain central to weddings and rituals — but without a fashion-forward platform, they rarely move beyond that frame.
“It’s not that the work isn’t happening,” says Somani. “Design students at NIFT are already exploring headpieces in experimental collections. At India Runway Week, you’ll see dramatic veils or reinvented maang tikkas. But these are moments — not movements.”
Designer Ravi Gupta of Gargee Designers echoes that sentiment. His shows often feature sculptural turbans and hybrid headpieces inspired by Mughal aesthetics. “Designers are pushing boundaries — mixing brass with fabric, adding structure to pieces once purely decorative,” he says. “But the support hasn’t kept pace. There’s no flagship event for headwear. No millinery council. No fellowships.”
There are flickers of institutional interest — the Andhra Pradesh Handicrafts Design Competition offers Rs 5 lakh across categories including ornamental ties and scarves. Craft-focused departments in design colleges occasionally showcase headpieces. But nothing comes close to the prestige — or media power — of Royal Ascot.
And that matters. At Ascot, a hat isn’t just admired— it’s archived, critiqued, written about. The Royal Ascot Millinery Collective, now in its 10th year, pairs established names with rising talents. In 2026, a student-designed hat will officially join the Collective — a rare moment when young talent is elevated to the same stage as fashion royalty. “Exquisite hats are woven into the fabric of Ascot,” said Felicity Barnard, Ascot Racecourse’s chief executive. “We’re committed to preserving and celebrating this tradition for generations to come.”
That kind of commitment — from institutions, brands, and public platforms — is what Indian accessory designers still await. Yet the appetite is growing. On Instagram, stylists are pairing saris with sculpted metallic headbands. Brides are embracing contemporary headpieces — oversized matha pattis with mirror work, minimalist maang tikkas in geometric shapes. Designers are experimenting with feathered turbans, floral cage veils, and deconstructed dupattas worn like sculpted helmets.
“The language is evolving,” says Somani. “But we need a stage where headpieces aren’t afterthoughts — they’re the main event.”
What would an Indian version of Ascot look like? Perhaps a Millinery Week in Jaipur, echoing the city’s regal heritage. Or a travelling headwear exhibition tracing regional styles — from the mandasalu veils of Andhra to the rakhis of Himachal. A dedicated grant under the Ministry of Textiles. A mentorship program pairing karigars with young designers. “We have the legacy. We have the skills,” says Gupta. “What we need now is vision. Let our artisans dream beyond the bridal box. Let them see their work not just in wedding albums, but on billboards and in galleries.”
