100 Years of Maganlal Dresswalla: From 'Mughal-E-Azam' To 'Mission: Impossible' and More

On a bustling road in Mumbai’s Juhu, between an ethnic wear store and a designer boutique, a metal signboard reads ‘Maganlal Dresswalla’. An unassuming alleyway leads to a dimly lit staircase, where blue walls are lined with posters of movies such as Mughal-E-Azam (1960) and Alam Ara (1931), alongside a framed Limca Book of Records certificate. It firmly establishes that this is India’s oldest costume supplier.

At the end of the staircase, amid a swan-shaped palanquin, bear costumes, swords, royal livery and heavy armour, Sarika Dresswalla, the third-generation custodian of these rarities, steps out of her cabin, leading The Hollywood Reporter India into what could only be described as her chamber of curiosities.

Turbans to Tinseltown

This is not the brand’s first store in Mumbai. Sarika’s grandfather, Harilal Dresswalla, and his older brother Maganlal, used to make turbans in Dhaari, Gujarat, before they came to Mumbai before Partition, and received an offer to make film costumes. “One day, my granddad went to a production house and he was made to sit outside for hours,” Sarika tells THR India, sitting on a wooden bench in the middle of her store. “They said, ‘Woh tailor ko bulaao andar (call the tailor inside)’. But he got up and said, ‘Mai tailor nahi hoon, mere neeche itne saare tailors hain (I’m not a tailor, I’ve got many of them working under me). I’m a dresswalla.’”

And with that, Maganlal Dresswalla was born — formally established in 1926.

Since then, the company has outfitted everything from black-and-white classics such as Jewel Thief (1967) to period dramas including Jodhaa Akbar (2008) and B.R. Chopra’s Mahabharat (1988). They’ve even designed costumes for Hollywood films such as Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977), Life of Pi (2012) and Mission: Impossible – Ghost Protocol (2011).

This legacy was forged by her grandfather Harilal, and cemented by her father, Suresh Dresswalla. And along with a piece of 30-kilogram iron armour (most likely worn by Prithviraj Kapoor in Mughal-E-Azam) it was passed down to Sarika to preserve and carry forward.

A Reluctant Heir

When Sarika had graduated from Mithibai College in Mumbai with a degree in commerce, almost 25 years ago, she had no intention of joining the family business. But at her father’s insistence, she agreed to spend some time at the store, just to see if it might be for her.

At that time, Khull Ja Sim Sim (2001), a wildly popular weekly game show, required 52 costumes every week. “That became my first assignment,” she says.

So, at 21, with no formal background in fashion, Sarika took on the challenge. “But I had grown up watching my father and grandfather work. I spent my childhood running around the store,” she says. “That project went really well — and it was life-changing. I knew this was the place for me.”

She had already witnessed first-hand the intensity of her father’s work: designing costumes for Mahabharat (1988) often working late into the night, and for Bharat Ek Khoj (1988), a series that changed eras — and costumes — every 10 days.

“I remember how, for two years, there were karigars (artisans) constantly working on set,” says Sarika. Every evening, the designer would arrive post-shoot and brief the team about the next day’s requirements. Nothing was planned; it was all last-minute, so they had to adapt. Costumes were altered, reused, reimagined. So, years later, when she was asked to create 500 costumes in just 10 days for the 2020 Amazon Prime Video series, The Forgotten Army — complete with detailed ageing, badges, and historical accuracy — she knew she could do it. For the most part, in the Indian film industry, the art production works ahead of time, while costumes are left till the last minute. But if there’s one thing her father and grandfather taught her, it’s this: “There’s always a solution. That is the mindset you need to have while making costumes in this industry,” she says. “We are as they say, jugaadu (resourceful).”

Innovation and Tradition

Sarika, however, doesn’t just rely entirely on inherited resourcefulness — she takes it a step further through continuous innovation and experimentation.

Walking over to a row of costume helmets and armour, she picks one up to demonstrate just how light it is. “This is made from fibre and papier-mâché, with a rubber base,” she says. “Back in my father’s time, these were made in iron — 30 to 35 kilos! It was quite crazy,” she says, referencing the iconic armour worn in Mughal-e-Azam. The same philosophy applies to jewellery. What was once heavy, ornate metal has now been reimagined in fabric and embroidery and was recently worn by the apsara (angel) in Atul Satya Kaushik’s stage production, Ishwar.

Earlier, everything used to be made in-house. Sarika vividly remembers the Bhuleshwar store of her childhood where it all came to life. “Near my dad’s cabin was this tiny entrance that opened into what looked like a cave. Inside, there were hundreds of craftsmen: cobblers, jewellers, welders. One guy was soldering. It was amazing,” she says.

But as the scale of projects has grown, so has the need for collaboration. Today, Sarika works with artisans across the city — fibre moulders, leather workers, silicon fabricators — and sources materials from across India to meet the diverse demands of modern productions.

She walks around the basement, pointing out a section reserved for Bollywood-themed rentals. Here, costumes from iconic films are preserved and replicated in painstaking detail — Madhuri Dixit’s violet saree from “Didi Tera Deewana,” Hrithik Roshan’s trench coat from Krrish (2006), regal outfits from Jodhaa Akbar, and Ranveer Singh’s intricately embroidered attire from Bajirao Mastani (2015). Every piece is handcrafted to match the original down to the last thread.

She makes sure to draw a clear distinction between couture and costume. “This isn’t couture. Costumes are more dramatic, more specific, larger than life itself.”

Sustainability is a growing concern. While she’s begun selling some pieces, rentals remain the core of the business, which calls for a vast storage space and a concern for the environment.

“In my dad’s time, he would repeat and reuse costumes with small changes. It was much more sustainable. But now it’s not like that. [Production houses] are so specific about their colour palettes. I mean, even if the costumes are aged, they want it made new and then aged,” she says.

Expanding the Empire

Period films have long been the brand’s specialty, but Sarika is now steering it into the future. She’s slowly digitising their archive and preparing to sell them online. “The brand name carries a legacy and 90 per cent is through word of mouth,” she says. “But in our 100th year, I want to reach out to those whom we haven’t yet.”

Across the room, two mannequins dressed in costumes for a Persian king and queen stand beside a giant macaw — a striking costume created for a carnival-themed roadshow by the Shri Swaminarayan Mandir in Ahmedabad this December.

Since expanding into mascot creation, Sarika now designs mascots for Manish Malpani’s entertainment parks across India, as well as for brands such as Discovery, Laughing Cow, and Hamleys — the latter with a dedicated in-house team.

From film costumes — for English, Hindi, German, Australian, and Chinese productions — to temple attire for deities, carnival wear, mandap decorations abroad, stage jewellery, and even outfits for the prince of Uganda’s royal wedding, there’s little she hasn’t done. But a small yet vital part of her plan for this landmark year is to change the signboard outside the Juhu store to match the logo they’ve used for a long time now. “The lion has always been a part of our logo,” she says.

“My grandfather chose it because it’s our national animal. Things that were made in India made him proud and he passed that down to me.”

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