Are Indian men dressing sexier?

Tej Pratap Khurana can’t decide between three colours: beige, light blue and mud brown. The 29-year-old project manager at an electronics manufacturing company in Noida is at a menswear store in south Delhi, shopping for a linen blazer for a presentation with a foreign delegation.

His mother, on a video call, votes for the “safer” beige blazer. His brother, on the same call, urges him to go with brown—a “more unusual colour” that will also help “hide” his belly. The store attendant, like any good salesman, insists all three look good, adding that Khurana should try a linen blazer-trouser co-ord set—the current hot seller.

“What do you think?” Khurana, dressed in a red polo-neck tee, brown cargo pants, and matching sandals, asks when we meet at the store on a Saturday afternoon. He’s looking for something “casual but not too casual”. “It should say I mean business, but not too business…. not like I’m trying too hard.”

Khurana has zeroed in on four shirts he plans to wear while the delegation is in India. One is white with a strip of floral print running along the placket and cuffs. Another is plain butter yellow. Then there’s a black shirt with big white-black checks confined to the chest pocket, and a fourth with small, contrasting blue-white-red checks across the front and back.

“I can always do the usuals (referring to his go-to plain white/black shirt, black/blue pants), but I always do them. I’m going to be 30 soon; I’m trying to experiment a little (with style). Should I go for a linen co-ord set?”

Khurana is not an outlier. His desire to move beyond safe, buttoned-up dressing reflects a gradual evolution in how some urban Indian men, especially post covid-19, are approaching their wardrobe, both within and beyond formal wear. Gone are the days when most male shoppers, raised on staples of kurta, button-down shirts, straight-leg trousers and athleisure, chose clothes that only helped them stay invisible.

More people today want to be seen, a want shaped by rising disposable incomes, heightened social media exposure, and evolving gender norms that make self-presentation a sign of self-awareness. At the same time, fashion designers as well as retail brands, including Kardo, Kartik Research, Tasva, Westside, Zara and H&M, are offering everything from casual to occasionwear across price points—a kind of wide offering that didn’t exist a decade ago.

This year’s Lakmē Fashion Week, too, felt like a pivot point: menswear, rather than womenswear, took centre stage, underscoring how decisively designers are reimagining the category.

Being stylish is no longer a pursuit reserved for a small set of discerning men willing to spend big bucks on how they look.

The Indian menswear market is expected to reach $42.4 billion by 2034, according to consulting firm IMARC Group, up from $21.9 billion last year. The women’s apparel market though remains significantly larger, projected to cross $121 billion over the next eight years, from $95 billion in 2025.

Yet, there is a noticeable shift in men’s shopping behaviour, according to designers and heads of retail brands interviewed for this story.

Younger consumers in particular are less inclined to outsource shopping decisions to mothers or wives, or default to yet another iteration of the plain or the striped shirt that they have seen their fathers and grandfathers wear like a uniform. The tailored black suit or kurta-pyjama, once a standard choice for weddings, is now sharing closet space with versions in varied colours, patterns and silhouettes—shrunken, roomier, double-pocketed, even embellished.

Mood dressing, too, is beginning to dictate choices for parties, bar meet-ups, movie outings and date nights, signalling a move away from purely functional dressing towards something more expressive.

This is not to suggest that most Indian men are suddenly dressing differently or looking chic everywhere. A glance around an office, inside the Metro or a shopping mall still reveals a sea of neutrals and familiar silhouettes. But among, say, 10 men, chances are at least one will be wearing something that gently pushes the boundaries—whether it’s a stack of steel chains or bracelets, an untucked baby-pink shirt with polka dots peeking from the collar, a Mickey Mouse watch, sneakers with mismatched laces, or even a co-ord set.

It is, at best, the beginning of Indian men’s quiet desire to elevate their style game.

There’s no formal research to map the shift in men’s dressing, but it is visible on the ground. For this story, I spoke to 40 men aged 20-60 across Mumbai, Delhi, Bengaluru and Chennai—at local tailoring shops, retail stores, offices, speakeasy bars and colleges as well as colleagues, friends and acquaintances—to understand whether they were seeking, or at least aspiring for, a trendier wardrobe. These aren’t hardcore fashion enthusiasts, nor do they track trends as closely as women do.

Most echoed what Khurana said: a willingness to experiment, as long as it stays within the broad boundaries of traditional menswear.

More than 50% admitted to buying, in recent months, something that marked a departure from their usual style. An architecture student, 21, in Bengaluru, for instance, bought printed jeans ( ₹1,999) after seeing his favourite influencer wear a similar pair to an event. A Delhi-based engineer, 42, invested in black formal shoes ( ₹12,500) with a cherry-red accent at the tip for a friend’s wedding, inspired by actor Ranveer Singh. In Mumbai, a consulting firm’s senior executive in his 50s chose a washed-denim bandhgala ( ₹45,000) for a friend’s 60th birthday celebration in Spain, because he “instantly liked it”. Last month, Khurana ordered a “fun” multicoloured check-patterned pocket square ( ₹900) after he saw an Instagram ad.

To encourage such behaviour, brands are actively trying to reshape the very act of shopping. Just like women’s trial rooms have evolved into experiential spaces, men’s changing rooms are being redesigned to feel like personal dressing lounges. Raymond, the century-old menswear brand focused on tailoring, recently opened an appointment-only 11,000 sq. ft store in Mumbai for casualwear, occasion wear, formal wear, fine jewellery, fragrances and watches in what looks like a private salon. Newer labels are experimenting with AI-driven virtual try-ons, allowing customers to visualise how something like a military green kantha shirt might look on them before they commit.

“Men are looking at themselves much more now. Earlier, the popular idea was that men aren’t supposed to think about themselves, especially what they are going to wear. The ‘Who cares?’ attitude about men dressing is fading away,” says designer Tarun Tahiliani, when asked why the fitting rooms of Tasva, the affordable traditional wear brand he started in 2021 with Aditya Birla Fashion and Retail Ltd, have mirrors lined on all four walls, with additional mirrors placed in the waiting area outside. “India has always had the discerning male customer who wanted the sharp bandhgala or the well-fitted kurta. Post covid, more people don’t want to dress ordinarily even on an everyday (basis). The focus on the self is increasing.”

Both externally and internally.

The Indian man has changed, declares Umashan Naidoo, head (customer and beauty) at Westside, which sells clothing, accessories and beauty products across 200-plus stores for men and women. Men and women account for roughly a 50:50 split in its customer base; when Naidoo joined the firm over a decade ago, men’s sales were “negligible”. While Westside still offers the staples of men’s dressing, like crisp formal shirts and tailored trousers, it has also expanded into softer, more expressive territory: relaxed co-ords, oversized silhouettes, crochet shirts, pearl necklaces, stacked bracelets, tote bags and gender-fluid separates that blur the lines between masculine and feminine dressing.

“There’s a new idea of masculinity that has a certain disarming softness to it. It’s no longer so rigid and unreflective,” Naidoo says. “You can be the macho man, but you can also openly be soft, dependable, vulnerable, and dress the way you want. That’s a green flag today.”

THE UNBUTTONED LOOK

Contrary to popular belief, Indian men have long had a strong style sense. History offers several instances of maharajas and nizams commissioning houses like Cartier, Hermès and Louis Vuitton for bespoke luggage and jewellery, while working closely with master tailors to source and craft garments from the finest fabrics.

And this instinct for self-expression existed beyond royal courts. Whether it was the nomadic communities, pastoral groups or artisans, the men used—and many still do—their embroidered garments, distinctive turbans and jewellery to signal community, craft and identity.

Towards the end of the 19th century, during British rule, men across social classes adopted Western suits and ties. By the early 20th century, these codes of dress had filtered more widely into professional life becoming markers of professionalism, bureaucracy and modernity.

While designer menswear in India began gaining visibility in the late 1980s—the late Rohit Bal was the first to present a dedicated men’s collection on the runway—it remained largely confined to tailored occasionwear and wedding-wear. Casual menswear, when it did exist in the designer ecosystem, often leaned towards the theatrical, turning men into peacocks and dandies.

The mainstream retail market, on the other hand, stayed firmly anchored in function over flair, with most brands concentrating on officewear staples like shirts, trousers and suits. Bollywood, too, didn’t push style experimentation for male actors as much as it did for women, reinforcing a narrower visual vocabulary for men’s dressing.

For a long time, men were prescribed looks, says Jaspreet Chandok, group vice-president of Reliance Brands, which has a wide menswear portfolio including Armani Exchange, Hugo Boss, Rahul Mishra and Brooks Brothers. “The clarity of decision-making began much later on in life, once a person had ‘arrived’. (But even then) Men’s fashion was largely binary, for office or for a wedding event,” says Chandok. “Today, you see much greater confidence in defining personal style as early as school, which only sharpens with age. That’s why you see some very well turned out first-jobbers.”

It won’t be a stretch to say that perhaps the biggest influencer on how everyone dresses today sits in their hands: the phone. Even if you’re not actively chasing trends or consciously noting styling ideas, the constant scroll across social media platforms makes it hard not to register what others are wearing and how. Over time, this passive exposure has begun to shape preferences. The selfie is the reason for the “cultural shift we’re seeing today”, believes designer David Abraham of the three-decade-old brand Abraham & Thakore that started offering menswear just over two years ago. Men’s sales now make up close to 50% of their business.

“Do you know anyone who doesn’t take a selfie? We all want to look great from all angles. Looksmaxxing (slang for maximising one’s own physical attractiveness) is for everyone. The average guy never really thought of style 20-30 years ago. Now, he is. Have you seen the guys (male shoppers) coming out of Zara? Many of them are so chicly dressed.”

Such attention to dressing up and wearing one’s personality is playing out globally as well. A tech bro like Mark Zuckerberg is showing a more conspicuous interest in fashion. He was recently spotted in the front row at a Prada show, wearing a long-sleeved tan polo with cigar-brown trousers, signalling that his grey T-shirt days are well behind him.

Through their choice of clothes and jewellery, personalities like Timothée Chalamet and Lewis Hamilton have pushed metrosexuality into a new phase, one where self-expression through fashion is no longer coded as niche. It is increasingly accepted as a mainstream way of being.

The shift is visible closer home, too. Last year, during his meeting with Prime Minister Narendra Modi, entrepreneur Nikhil Kamath chose to wear a roomy, casual tangaliya shirt (a centuries-old embroidery form from Gujarat) paired with handspun denim trousers from homegrown brand 11.11 / eleven eleven. Meanwhile, Ranveer Singh’s shoulder-grazing hair in Dhurandhar: The Revenge (2026) sparked curiosity—social media was interested in his haircare routine.

Shantanu Agasti of 50-year-old tailoring brand Madhav Agasti in Mumbai, who believes “more money has made men more conscious of how they dress”, recently designed a linen shirt-pant co-ord set in shades of canary yellow, royal blue and earthy beige for a politician who had a clear idea of what he wanted his outfit to reflect. “He wanted to appeal to the young as well as the old voters. So, we added some bright colours and old-money colours, and minimalist trims, like his monogrammed initials, some prints on the button placket,” says Agasti. “A strong look, but approachable and soft.”

This “softening” of masculinity is also evident in the growth of the men’s grooming market, currently pegged at ₹10,000 crore. At Westside, tinted moisturiser for men is among the top-selling cosmetic products. “We haven’t even started marketing it yet,” Naidoo says. “Botox, laser hair removal—men are doing far more today to take care of themselves. The ‘self’ phenomenon has become so significant that leading the average Indian man to fashion is hardly the challenge it once was.”

WHEN FASHION LISTENS

The first time Chandok noticed a shift in menswear was 15 years ago, while waiting for a flight at an airport. He spotted several Indian men in coloured trousers. That’s what he refers to as “experimentation within a trusted silhouette”.

Today, he says, that instinct has been amplified by the current retail and D2C (direct-to-consumer) landscape, “where brands are pushing variety and novelty while still operating within familiar, accepted silhouettes”, making it easier for men to experiment without stepping too far out of their comfort zone.

You can see this play out across categories. For a basic royal blue bandhgala (about ₹45,000) from Rajesh Pratap Singh, there’s another in butter yellow—the colour of the season—with a slim bright red line running down the back. If Rahul Mishra offers floral-embroidered kurtas (over ₹2 lakh) , Gaurav Gupta has Nehru jackets ( ₹75,000 onwards) featuring sculptural wing embroidery, in big and small proportions, around the neck or the cuff, or Abraham & Thakore has ₹8,900 trousers printed with crushed newspaper text.

At Zudio, where clothes start from less than ₹100, a mannequin suggests pairing a white tee with a sky-blue floral shirt and white cotton trousers with blue stripes, while Zara layers balloon-style cargo pants (more than ₹3,000) with a check shirt (over ₹2,000)and a denim jacket finished with a Chinese collar and metal fireman clasps (close to ₹6,000).

Each rack inside 2013-born brand Kardo’s first store, in Delhi’s Lodhi Market, has clothes that illustrate what experimentation within “accepted silhouettes” looks like. Bush shirts, tees, trousers, shackets and Mandarin-collar shirts (the range starts at ₹4,000) are elevated with traditional embroidery, craft and design interventions in ways that feel subtle yet distinct.

A military-green four-pocket shirt features tonal kantha embroidery that looks almost like a print from afar. Right next to it sits a lightweight mauve shacket, where textile waste has been stitched into the fabric to resemble the imprint of a multicoloured flower.

When Rikki Kher started Kardo in Shahpur Jat, hoping to make craft “cool” in menswear, many struggled to understand why a vintage shirt or jacket with traditional handwork would cost a few thousand rupees. At the time, casual menswear as a category lacked the energy it carries today. Zara had just entered India, with more focus on womenswear, and Fabindia and Anokhi were among the few branded go-tos for men seeking something traditional and different in terms of prints and more pastels.

Kher, born and brought up in the UK, chose to take the brand international instead, eventually building its presence through its own website and platforms like Mr Porter, Beams and FWRD, along with multiple retail outlets worldwide. It continues to be available globally. “Foreigners and NRIs buy a lot from us, but last year I realised the need for an India presence, because the consumer here seems interested,” says Kher. “Back in 2013, I used to see men in Gucci loafers, LV belts… I see them now too, but there’s this new category of men who want something else. That’s my guy.”

When asked what the average profile of this new category is, Kher doesn’t give a specific answer. Nor does Bengaluru-based Mani Shanker Singh, the founder of Son of A Noble Snob, who presented elevated casualwear, including a rugby stripe shirt with fraying, at the FDCI (Fashion Design Council of India) India Men’s Weekend 2026, in March in Jaipur.

Singh, instead, says there are “micro clusters”. “Everyone wants a slice of everything, including the Gen Z who are spending their daddy’s money. There are now far more occasions to go to than there were 10 years ago. You are going to movies, for dinners, for parties, for drinks. So that’s one reason they want more clothes, or at least styles. They want a bit of grunge/streetwear, formal, floral, beach-y, traditional. They want utility, like they always did, but they are also seeking something that helps them stand out, a bit.”

So, are they looking at trends when buying? Not as many as women. The old-school rules of comfort-first dressing, feel-good fabrics and long shelf life still apply.

Pranchal Srivastava, chief business officer for luxury multi-brand store The Collective and ABFRL’s international brands portfolio, including Ralph Lauren and Hackett London, points to what’s trending now: the “cool dad” archetype. Elegance and comfort remain key. “Sweatshirts and sweatpants are not cool anymore, but people still want the comfort. So while men want to dress up again post-covid, they prefer looser blazers, lighter shoulder pads and more unlined jackets. Bottom wear has become roomier, too. Even in footwear, loafers have regained some of the ground they lost to sneakers—but they’re softer now, in suede or supple leather,” says Srivastava. “Consumers are no longer dressing for their age, but for their identity energy. And they are making their own decisions.”

FINANCE BROS KNOW WHAT THEY WANT

To grab a snapshot of what men are wearing and learn whether their shopping behaviour has changed, I parked myself two Fridays outside Connaught Place and CyberCity Hub, office-heavy hubs in the National Capital Region.

As men stepped out for coffee at Blue Tokai Coffee Roasters or took cigarette breaks before heading to The Big Chill Cafe or Saravana Bhawan for lunch, their clothes felt current, at least in terms of silhouette. No trousers were skinny, no shirts overly snug. Shirts ranged from crisp whites to big and small checks, many of them worn untucked. Shoes were a mix of formal blacks and browns and casual Converse/Onitsuka types.

“What am I wearing?” Suraj, 35, an employee of one of the Big 4 consulting firms, repeats my question. He refuses to share his full name. “This is Louis Philippe (a white shirt with tiny floral embroidery all over), pants are Uniqlo (light brown, straight fit), shoes are adidas (flat brown Sambas), belt is Tommy Hilfiger (same colour as pants).”

Did you buy them with someone’s advice? “Nope. I shop alone. And I style myself on my own. Sometimes my wife shares some influencer or actor Reels for inspo, but do they influence me? Not actively.”

Like many other officegoers interviewed or spotted, Irfan, 31, a bank worker, wears what catches his attention first in his wardrobe. The day we meet, he is in a dark blue shirt from Zudio, Pantaloons jeans, tan brown shoes and a matching belt. “I matched the shoes and the belt so it looks more formal,” says Irfan, who, too, didn’t want to share his full name. “Office wear has become more relaxed after covid. Earlier, we never used to wear jeans on a Monday.”

While there weren’t many visible high-luxury labels on display, what stood out was how men were dressing up more when stepping out in the evening—often changing out of office clothes for after-work plans. As Suraj put it, a drinks night with friends calls for a complete reset. “I change to something cool and casual. Men also want to look good, you know.”

Does this mean men are getting better at styling themselves? It will take time, Kher says, adding that it is the job of brands and designers to educate the customer.

That’s what Bengaluru-based Ladeesh P.C., director and co-founder of Estilocus, a four-year-old ready-to-wear brand with presence in south India, tries to push while putting together his clothes for display. While curating collections, he deliberately designs shirts with an eye on what kind of trousers they will pair well with, and vice versa.

“That kind of training is needed. We still don’t really have a sense of what suits our body, colour and size. Men might be taking matters in hand when it comes to shopping, but they still ask their wives, mothers or friends for advice when making outfit combinations,” he reiterates Kher’s point. “They still need validation.”

After an hour, Khurana opted for beige and light blue. Beige because his mother said, and he too thought, it would have more repeat value. Light blue? “It just suits me.”