These days, fashion designing as a profession has become more accessible than fashion itself. Couture is bankruptcy-friendly, but all one needs to jump aboard to join its loose ranks is a copy of Asian Woman magazine and a hired tailoring henchman. Some take the trouble to acquire a perfunctory degree in design, but leave the burden of inspiration behind on their college mood boards. Yet it makes no difference: talent or no talent, the local fashion industry is an equal-opportunity employer.
That is why it is so heartening to meet someone for whom designing is not merely an outlet to dwindle away idle time; who aspires to more than just magazine mentions and has actually acquired not just the title but the techniques; someone for whom fashion really is a passion. Nida Ali is heralding the next generation of designer attire in the country, where not only the clothes but the textiles as well are conceived from scratch and available under one roof. The roof in question happens to be Nida’s unimposing little outlet, which, like a pirate’s treasure chest, is tucked away in the recesses of Zamzama.
For some time now she has been catering to women who, eschewing the brashness of media-heavy labels, are looking for an original, colourful, yet tasteful style of dressing. And the designer comes through on all counts: she houses everything from unstitched hand-woven fabrics made with natural fibres (cotton and silk) and played up with embroidery and block print, to fully stitched formal, semi-formal and bridal wear.
Nida Ali is heralding the next generation of designer attire in the country, where not only the clothes but the textiles as well are conceived from scratch and available under one roof. She houses everything from unstitched hand-woven fabrics made with natural fibres and played up with embroidery and block print, to fully stitched formal, semi-formal and bridal wear
That is quite remarkable for someone who has two toddlers at home, one aged two and another just six months old. At an age when most girls struggle to get their bearings as mothers, this 23-year-old has secured the family front and is boldly braving another less homely one in the fashion industry. But she is not swayed as she has been preparing for this for some time now.
Nida has ambition and says she had always wanted to be a designer. She embarked on a four-year programme at the Arts Council, which she proudly states has populated a number of top tier positions in media and the arts. To further hone her skills, she enrolled in crash courses at Indus Valley and Alliance Francaise. Her first professional experience was a stint at Al-Karam, but soon after she struck out on her own with a range of lawn prints under the name of Rangoli.
Her experiences have helped her attain a boldness that finds expression in her eponymous line of clothing, which sees large motifs emblazed on the most unexpected of colour combinations, such as purple with olive, and turquoise with orange. “My colour combinations are very different, but once put together they blend really well,” she says.
Indeed, her embellishments are her strong point as Nida’s designs seek to revive traditional styles of embroidery in the fashion of Faiza Sami, whose bridals she cites as her favourite. The overall look, however, is preserved as modern: “Modern cuts alone don’t excite Pakistani women. They just don’t sell. There has to be a bit of decoration to appeal to the local fashion palate.”
Along with developing a keen understanding of her clients’ needs, Nida is forging close ties with the fashion fraternity — she has leapfrogged the fashion council that has so far been crouching under the directives of important Karachi-based designers and has joined the Pakistan Fashion Design Council (PFDC) from Lahore instead. Her comments may explain why a number of new designers from Karachi have opted for the PFDC over the homegrown variety: “The people from the Karachi camp can be very arrogant — to the point of being rude. The members of the PFDC, on the other hand, are very warm and down-to-earth. They’re not preoccupied with their egos. I was made to feel very welcome,” says she.
Ungainly egos seem to pique Nida a great deal. When discussing her recent participation in the Bridal Waves show, she related the problems caused by cavilling senior designers flinging out their overbearing demands. “There were frivolous complaints about who would get which model when, in fact, it was all about teamwork,” says Nida.
For her, Bridal Waves proved to be good showcase of her wares, which is something she has started taking more seriously lately. She is not oblivious to the importance of marketing in a brand’s success, and in the past months has upped the media presence of her label with shoots for nearly all the prestigious women’s magazines in the country. At the same time, however, she is wary of media’s handling of fashion, especially when it comes to unjustified criticism. “Journalists should ask about a designer’s philosophy and then review the clothes accordingly, not just criticize for the heck of it,” she says.
But media is a necessary evil. After all, as she puts it, “It’s not just about talent.” A number of ingredients go into brewing the froth of a successful career in fashion. Another is a heightened aesthetic sense which she feels is “more important than anything else in fashion.” Nida joins the chorus of numerous other fashionistas when she observes, “There are some big names who didn’t go to fashion school, like Umar Sayeed, Rizwan Beyg, Imrana Ahmed and Nilofer Shahid, but their work is immaculate. And then there are some designers who despite having degrees couldn’t make waves because they lack vision.”
But Nida Ali doesn’t have to worry about that. Her vision will soon get a new outlet in Lahore.