The 2025 edition of the world's fanciest dress up party — the Met Gala — was historic in more ways than one. Apart from Shah Rukh Khan's debut making him the first Indian man to walk the blue carpet, this was the first time, the Met made space to celebrate Black fashion in its 77-year history with the theme “Superfine: Tailoring Black Style”.
The theme was inspired by Monica Miller's book, Slaves to Fashion: Black Dandyism and the Styling of Black Diasporic Identity (2009). Its purpose was to bring to light how style had helped form Black identities in the diaspora, especially in the United States and Europe.
Khan — arguably the world's most famous Indian film icon — arrived at the Met wearing a “floor-length elongated coat in Tasmanian superfine wool with monogrammed, Japanese horn buttons,” according to Sabyasachi Mukherjee, the designer.
He was also carrying The Bengal Tiger Head Cane crafted in 18-karat gold with tourmalines, sapphires, old mine cut and brilliant cut diamonds. What the superstar of the Indian middle class of the 2000s wasn't carrying was the spirit of Indian dandyism, and its most significant aspect: its politics.
Dandy In India
Black dandyism sprung in the 18th Century from an intersection of African and European style in the period. It was characterised by flamboyance and exaggeration, gathering prominence during and after the Harlem Renaissance of the 1920s.
At its core, Black dandyism has come to represent Black resistance against limiting identity markers and using style to fashion new political and social possibilities. It represents a challenge to social hierarchies, reflective of how it was used by the Blacks to subvert expectations of how they present themselves.
When Khan and other Indian celebrities walked the blue carpet, it was this theme of resistance that they were expected to represent. And they could have represented dandyism and fashion of political resistance from India on the world stage. After all, fashion, clothing choices and attire are deeply political in India and have served as political messaging for hundreds of years.
The Indian man, just like their Black counterparts, carries the burden of centuries of colonisation by the Whites. As much as it is political, the subjugation was of the mind and body, its manifestation often reflected in the way the colonised dressed. So, when Diljit Dosanjh paid homage to Maharaja Bhupinder Singh of Patiala with his outfit at the Met Gala, it was also a reminder of the Indian dandy, represented by the princely classes of colonial India, often characterised by over-the-top display of jewellery. For the Maharajas, it was a statement of wealth to be interpreted as a challenge to the supremacy of the colonial masters, who had plundered their land and decided themselves to be the final arbiters of culture, taste, fashion.
Diljit Dosanjh at the Met Gala
It was the same spirit that led to the legend of Dwarkanath Tagore, Rabindranath Tagore's grandfather, wearing two impeccably cut diamonds on his handcrafted shoes to a soiree of Bengali Babus and the British high society.
The loot of Bengal following the Battle of Plassey of 1757 chronicles the naked greed of the British in denuding the losing rulers and upper classes of their amassed wealth and jewels, and so a proud Dwarkanath placed nothing less than diamonds, the ultimate measure of wealth, to adorn his shoes. A sartorial challenge of the oppressed against his oppressors.
While Indian dandyism - from Nawabs and Maharajas of princely states to the Babus of the early 20th century British capital of Calcutta - cannot be defined by overt acts of resistance like Black dandyism, it did have layers of defiance and assertion in its folds.
When the educated men of colonial India embraced western fashion, it was to assert their social status and modernity. At times, western clothes were used to challenge colonial and social stereotypes while at others, it was an attempt towards inclusion.
So, we see Ambedkar, fighting the Brits and caste rules in a three-piece suit. For Ambedkar, the suit was a symbol of breaking caste hierarchies. He railed against the control upper castes exercised on life choices of Dalits. He wanted so-called lower caste Indians to dress in sprightly western wear too. Like the Mahatma's dhoti, Ambedkar's suit was a political statement against India's clothing hierarchy.
Ambedkar in his three-piece suit
Met 2025 And The Indian Contingent
Interestingly, Black dandyism has another direct India connect. Many refer to Julius Soubise, a freed slave in eighteenth century Britain, as the first Black dandy. He was an Afro-Caribbean man, who, when freed, led a life of luxury under the patronage of a wealthy duchess of England. But Soubise had to flee Britain under murky circumstances and arrived at Calcutta in 1777, where he lived till his death 22 years later.
Dandyism is about subversion and breaking boundaries, including those of gender. While the Met took 77 years to acknowledge the cultural significance of Black style and its display showcased diverse interpretations of self-expression, embodying both liberation and resistance, the Indian stars, with the exception of Dosanjh, left much to be desired. For the Indian contingent, the sartorial interpretation of the Met 2025 theme remained within the limits of fabric, motifs and craftsmanship, without transcending to the political commentary that dandyism has come to reflect.
