Somewhere around 2019 or maybe 2020 — a blurred timeline, like most good origin stories — I began designing my own loungewear. I would source out the material, sketch the designs in my head, and take them to my tailor. Not the “sleepy Sunday, borrowed boyfriend tee” kind. I mean tailored, classy, well-fitted loungewear that could easily pass off as casual daywear. The kind that walks the line between indoors and outdoors with absolute elegance.
And no, this wasn’t some brand launch moment. There was no grand plan. I just wanted to feel good at home. Look put together, even if I didn’t have to be anywhere. Eventually, people started noticing — in real life and online. Friends complimented the fabric, the fall, the fact that it looked like I could be heading to a brunch in Paris, not just padding around my flat in Bangalore.
That’s when I realized something: lounging in style isn’t vanity. It’s self-respect.
Most people confuse loungewear with sleepwear. Let’s clear that up right now. I don’t sleep in my loungewear. In fact, I sleep in just my underwear. Yeah, surprise, surprise — but this isn’t about kink. It’s about categories and comfort. Sleepwear is for the bed. Loungewear is for everything in between — your coffee, your laptop, your home workouts, your sudden grocery run, or when your friend walks in and drags you out to a pub. You should never have to say, “Wait, let me change.” Loungewear should be ready-to-wear in every sense.
My silhouettes are simple: maxi A-line dresses, structured rompers, minimal shift dresses, skirts, Indo westerns. Sometimes I throw on a jacket or a scarf. I always ensure it has pockets — because loungewear should never make you feel like you’re compromising function for style. Keys, phone, card, a little cash — and you’re good to go.
But beyond aesthetics, let’s talk fabric. This is where most brands get lazy. If your skin is going to live in something all day, the fabric better be soul-soothing. Polyester? No, thanks. Plastics in any form — polyamide, acrylics, microfibres — are a hard no. They’re not just bad for the planet, they feel artificial on the body. Sticky, itchy, and over time, damaging.
Instead, I lean into Lyocell — a sustainable, breathable, plant-derived fibre that is not only biodegradable but also feels like luxury. Or sometimes super-combed cotton, which is soft, structured, and gentle on your skin. Your loungewear should feel like a hug from nature, not a suffocation from synthetics.
Style is not just about the cut — it’s about the conscious choices behind it. What we wear at home reflects how much we honour ourselves when no one is watching.
I never thought I’d be on the verge of starting a loungewear line. It’s not up and running yet, and no, I’m not raking in money from it. But the idea is seeded. And it’s rooted in something authentic. This isn’t just a trend. This is my space, my subject, my statement. And this is where I begin again — not with struggle, but with style.