In the high-octane universe of Dhurandhar, amidst the gunfire and the box-office-breaking adrenaline of a ₹150-crore opening week, a moment of quiet, museum-grade sartorial history has slipped onto the screen. While the internet memes Ranveer Singh’s “funky” off-duty persona, the film’s wedding sequence, set to the track “Shararat,” unveils a costume that is less a piece of cinema styling and more an act of archival resurrection. This is not merely a groom’s sherwani; it is a meticulously researched reinterpretation of a 19th-century Patiala khillat—a royal robe of honor—brought to life by costume designer Smriti Chauhan and the heritage label Divani. By decoding this ensemble, we uncover a fascinating intersection where Bollywood’s massive commercial reach meets the dying art of princely textile diplomacy, signaling a shift in how Indian masculinity and power are visualized in the modern age.
Beyond the Blockbuster: Decoding the "Shararat" Ensemble
To the untrained eye, the ensemble Ranveer Singh wears as the character Hamza in the celebratory song “Shararat” is a triumph of wedding-season aesthetics—opulent, layered, and commanding. However, a forensic analysis of the costume reveals a narrative depth that far exceeds the typical requirements of a masala action-drama. The look is anchored by a statement Shaneel (velvet) jacket, a fabric historically reserved for the nobility due to its weight and rich pile, which absorbs light to create a sense of gravitas rather than the reflective shimmer of cheaper synthetics.
The construction defies the current trend of slim-fit, Western-cut indo-western silhouettes. Instead, Chauhan and Divani have opted for a long, layered sherwani-style coat that mimics the volume and drape of traditional courtly attire. Beneath this heavy outer layer lies a handwoven taupe kurta paired with moonga silk trousers. The choice of moonga—a wild silk known for its durability and natural gold luster—speaks to a "stealth wealth" approach. It is a texture that whispers privilege rather than shouting it, aligning perfectly with the film’s earthy, dusty palette.
The visual impact is created not through Swarovski crystals or neon hues, but through the density of the surface ornamentation. The embroidery utilizes dapka work—a technique involving coiled wires—and zari paani, where gold or silver threads are treated to look like liquid metal. This is paired with traditional zardozi that is "hand-filled," a labor-intensive process where artisans fill the motifs with thread to create a 3D, embossed effect. The result is a garment that looks heavy, armored, and ancient, effectively grounding the character of Hamza in a lineage of power that predates the modern spy thriller context of the film.
The Archival Deep Dive: Resurrecting the Patiala Khillat
The true genius of this costume lies in its provenance. Reports from Vogue India and confirmation from the Times of India Lifestyle desk indicate that the design is a direct translation of an archival 19th-century Patiala khillat. In the lexicon of Indian royal history, a khillat was not just a gift; it was a ceremonial robe of honor presented by a ruler to a subject or a visiting dignitary. To receive a khillat was to be metaphorically clothed in the King’s authority. It was a political tool, a marker of rank, and a tangible symbol of favor.
By referencing a specific piece presented to the Patiala royal family, the design team has tapped into the rich cultural heritage of North India’s princely states. The defining feature of this recreation is the "Tree of Life" layout. In textile history, the Tree of Life (or Vriksha) is a motif that transcends cultures, symbolizing growth, connection, and eternal life. On a khillat, however, it takes on a more dynastic meaning—representing the stability and reach of the ruler’s power.
The decision to use this specific motif for Hamza is a masterstroke of costume storytelling. The repeating, dense patterns of the Tree of Life on the velvet jacket serve a dual purpose: aesthetically, they provide the texture needed for the camera; narratively, they signal that Hamza, despite his role as a mole, possesses an inherent, perhaps borrowed, nobility. He is "clothed in honor," even if his true allegiance is hidden. This level of semiotic detailing is rare in mainstream commercial cinema, which often favors generic floral arabesques over historically charged symbolism.
Craft as Character: The Semiotics of Hamza’s Style
Fashion in cinema is never accidental, especially when the lead actor is Ranveer Singh. The discourse surrounding Dhurandhar has been dominated by a viral Instagram reel—highlighted by entertainment portals—where Ranveer’s character is seen in a store reaching for neon, funky shirts, only to be steered toward a black leather jacket by his co-star Sara Arjun. Fans have jokingly labeled this the "moment actors stopped acting," referencing Ranveer’s real-life maximalist fashion choices.
However, the "Shararat" wedding look stands in stark opposition to this "funky" persona, and that tension is where the character of Hamza comes alive. Hamza is described as a mole—a chameleon who must adapt to survive. The khillat ensemble is his camouflage. By donning a garment that signifies established order, tradition, and royal sanction, he deflects suspicion. The earthy browns and antique golds of the outfit allow him to blend into the "raw" aesthetic of the film’s world while simultaneously elevating his status above the other characters.
This is "Power Dressing" in its most literal sense. The weight of the zardozi and the stiffness of the velvet force a change in posture—one stands straighter, moves slower, and occupies more space. For an actor like Singh, who is known for his kinetic energy, the costume acts as a restraint, channeling his performance into a mode of simmering, controlled intensity. It is a visual cue to the audience that in this scene, Hamza is playing the role of the patriarch, the protector, and the dignitary, regardless of the chaos that surrounds him.
The Business of Heritage: Divani’s Strategic Play
From a business of fashion perspective, this collaboration is a textbook example of high-value brand placement. Divani, a label known for its cinematic associations and dedication to heritage craft, has effectively turned a film costume into a global campaign. With Dhurandhar grossing over ₹150 crore in its first five days, the visibility of this single outfit exceeds that of any runway show or print editorial.
The strategy here is "Heritage validation." By linking their brand name to a specific, museum-quality historical reference (the Patiala khillat), Divani distinguishes itself from the crowded market of commercial wedding-wear designers who churn out trend-based collections. They are positioning themselves as custodians of culture. This appeals to a growing segment of the luxury bridal market that values "storytelling" and "provenance" over mere bling. A groom wearing a Divani sherwani is now not just wearing a designer label; he is wearing a piece of Patiala history, validated by a blockbuster film.
Furthermore, this move subtly promotes the sustainability narrative, albeit implicitly. The use of handwoven fabrics and natural moonga silk, combined with slow-craft techniques like hand-filled zardozi, positions the garment as an investment piece—heirloom luxury—rather than fast fashion. While the current media coverage hasn't fully capitalized on the "eco-friendly" angle, the foundation is laid for future marketing that highlights the low-carbon footprint of artisanal production versus industrial textile manufacturing.
Timeline: From Royal Courts to the Silver Screen
- 19th Century: An original khillat (robe of honor) featuring the Tree of Life motif is created and presented to the royal family of Patiala, signifying rank and favor.
- 2010s: The Indian wedding market explodes, but menswear largely drifts toward mass-produced, crystal-heavy designs, distancing itself from authentic royal craft.
- 2024 (Production Phase): Costume designer Smriti Chauhan and the Divani team access archival references, selecting the Patiala khillat as the blueprint for Ranveer Singh’s character in Dhurandhar.
- December 5, 2025: Dhurandhar releases. The film breaks box office records. The "Shararat" song sequence exposes millions to the heritage look.
- December 2025 (Current): Vogue India and Times of India break the story of the costume’s historical origins, sparking a conversation about craft revival in cinema.
Future Forecast: The "Museum Groom" Era
The cultural ripple effects of this single costume choice will likely be felt in the upcoming wedding seasons. We predict a pivot away from the pastel, floral sherwanis that have dominated the last five years (the "Virushka" effect) toward a darker, earthier, and more texture-heavy aesthetic. Call it the rise of the "Museum Groom."
Designers will increasingly look to specific historical artifacts—not just vague "Mughal" inspirations—to ground their collections. We expect to see more khillat-inspired silhouettes: longer lengths, heavier velvets, and motifs that tell a story (like the Tree of Life or hunting scenes) rather than simple geometric repeats. The color palette will shift toward sepia, coffee, charcoal, and antique gold—colors that look expensive and timeless.
For Ranveer Singh, this role cements a new facet of his fashion identity. He is no longer just the jester of maximalism; he is a serious patron of the arts. Brands will likely leverage this duality, casting him in campaigns that require a blend of avant-garde edge and deep-rooted cultural authority. Ultimately, the Dhurandhar khillat proves that in the digital age, the most forward-thinking fashion statement one can make is to look back—150 years back.
Written by Ara Ohanian for FAZ Fashion — fashion intelligence for the modern reader.
