Make way, skinny jeans, you’ve got no chance here — a retro diva is in town, extravagantly swathed in many a yard of princess-ly fabric.

The Farshi Shalwar is not just a piece of personal drapery; it’s quite a bold statement, a protest against minimalist fashion and South Asia’s go-to “notice me” standout piece. With its regal heritage and over-the-top drama, this dress commands respect — but are we dressing correctly?

A jaunt through history

Long before today’s social media stars practised their slow-motion spins, Mughal nobility were making dramatic entrances with their Farshi Shalwars. These garments were so long that they brushed the palace floors.

Moving in a Farshi plays out like a part of a special, heavenly ceremony, filled with the elegance that goddesses have — making the clothing a symbol of social status and just a stylistic statement.

Imagine, while ordinary folk were minding their everyday businesses, the aristocrats in their palatial spaces were gliding through their sumptuous lives, skirted by textured tides of luxurious textiles.

The traditional Farshi is an unparalleled piece of clothing known for a style of its own. This garment is painstakingly crafted to be both enduring as well as comfortable, featuring a lot of fabric that flows heavenly. Accomplished seamsters would dedicate days, if not weeks, to perfecting every fold and drape, ensuring the garment moved just right. Unlike everyday apparel churned out by tailors at large, Farshi is a piece of art, requiring master craftsmanship to create.

From high street to haute couture

Now, what wonders us all is who would have seen the scandalously body-hugging shirts and voluminous Farshis from those iconic 70s wedding photos coming to become today’s hottest revival? The trend has got the better of every tier of fashion, proving its versatility that has glamorously endured across generations.

Contemporary high-street brands have also launched their ready-to-wear versions in vibrant prints and solid hues that maintain the silhouette’s drama while being surprisingly wearable for everyday occasions.

These accessible interpretations have become wardrobe staples for well-rooted millennials looking to give their personal effects a flair of heritage.

At the couture level, designers have breathed new life into this revival, taking it in fascinating directions. While Karachi’s established houses like Sania Maskatiya and Nida Azwer may have looked away, Farshi flourished elsewhere.

Star Hania Aamir recently made some serious Farshi waves in a breathtaking Rizwan Beyg creation, while Lahore’s Hussain Reyhar has become one of its most unapologetic ambassadors. Meanwhile, HSY has advocated the democratisation of the look, insisting that “Farshis aren’t just for tall, slender figures.” His inclusive approach introduces practical adaptations — longer shirts for curvier frames, breathable cottons for everyday wear, and customised draping techniques for different heights.

The most exciting adaptations, however, may be coming from smaller ateliers testing boundaries. Designers like Zohra Alam, with her fluid, unstructured takes and Farnaz Mustafa through her elegant embroidered versions are exploring Farshi possibilities. These innovators honour the garment’s regal DNA, mutating it with youthful energy — whether through surprising fabric choices, modern embroideries, or clever styling twists that make the centuries-old silhouette feel freshly relevant.

Mastering the art of wearing Farshi

Carrying yourself in a Farshi is like orchestrating a symphony of flowing fabric, where every step sets the rhythm and every movement commands harmony. If you are not careful while slumping down anywhere, you’re suddenly swept away in a textile tsunami. Move a bit lively, and you might audition for a slapstick comedy. Descend a staircase? Congratulations, you’ve just been cast as the tragic heroine in a period drama about poor life choices.

The secret to nailing the Farshi lies in honouring its heritage while making it work for modern life. The fabric you’ve chosen for your Farshi also decides a lot of things — seek out flowing lawn that breathes, liquid silk that cascades, or airy georgette that moves with you, not against you.

Here’s where most go wrong: that awkward length where the top meets the pleats. Too short and you risk what we’ll delicately call the “Farshi faux pas”—pleats bunching up in ways that would make your grandma blush. Too long and the silhouette is gone entirely. The sweet spot? Just below your behind, where the fabric cascades gracefully without venturing into the socially, culturally, and morally questionable territory.

When it comes to length, let the name be your guide: a true Farshi should kiss the floor, with just the barest hint of footwear peeking through — delicate heels for drama, kitten heels for elegance, or sneakers for those delightfully rebellious moments. And for those worried about proportions, softer drapes flatter petite frames (skip those stiff painchas or ankle cuffs), while longer tops balance curvier silhouettes beautifully.

The style prejudice

Let’s unstitch it. You have just discovered that you are sick of Farshi without even trying it. Another existential crisis? No, it’s just style prejudice, the sartorial equivalent of refusing to watch a blockbuster just because everyone else loves it. Your Instagram explore page is a Farshi apocalypse — an infinite scroll of over-animated influencers moving in a reeling zombie-verse with their wide ankle cuffs sweeping up enough dust to trigger allergies in at least three time zones.

Post after post, there is another #OOTD featuring the same pose: one hand delicately clutching at the pleats, the other holding a cup of fifteen-take-old cold chai.

Another problem is that the market has been deluged with cheap, mass-produced variants. Too many “designer” versions that look like someone reused old hotel curtains have unfurled chaos. The pleats fall apart so easily that you think twice before taking a lively stride to save yourself a wardrobe malfunction embarrassment. These clothing items are often made from polyester, and they crinkle like those bags of chips when you even if you tread on eggshells, miss the mark on elegance. Some are so badly scissored that what should be a graceful Farshi ends up looking like a shapeless sack, making the wearer appear more like a pile of laundry than Mughal royalty. The worst ones are the “affordable” versions, where the tops and bottoms don’t match, and the colours are so bright they could give you a headache just by looking at them from afar.

Then there are the tinkering tailors — reluctant recruits in the Farshi renaissance, stitching for dear life as the trend tears through the realms of fashion, clumsily struggling to skill up in their craft with every pleat and hem.

Reels of irate darzis cursing under their breath as they grapple with odd pleats is a comedy niche unto itself. “Main nay lifetime mein yeh nahi banaya!” one laments, brandishing a half-done disaster that resembles a deflated balloon animal. Another looks glumly at a client’s Pinterest reference pic before letting out a sigh and saying, “Beta, yeh to Photoshop hai“—the poignant reminder being that not everybody can resemble the picture-perfect Sanam Jung photoshoot, minus the requisite eight hours sleep, personal hairstylist and glam squad, of course.

Let’s consider how many individuals feel that anybody can pull off a Farshi. Owning this elegant piece of clothing is an undertaking in itself, just like taking care of an attention-intensive pet. Then comes a trend in which everyone feels that they can dress up as stylishly as Mahira Khan using a small amount of fabric and a dramatic staircase. But the truth is that if the outfit doesn’t fit right, you’ll look less like you belong in a royal court and more like you crashed into a fabric store. Therefore, it’s necessary to have the correct size and proportions to make this look work for you.

Let’s consider this: all those headwinds might just end up filling the sails of the new showboat. When a trend gets too goofy, it usually poofs off without a trace in no time. The Farshi is currently gathering a lot of girth, pushing out the half-hearted and less serious versions.

What will last forever? The great ones — the ones that have drapey fabrics, flattering designs that suit regular human beings, and craftsmanship that lives up to the rich heritage of the Farshi style. So don’t get tired or lose faith in this trend: the Farshi is not going anywhere; it is simply evolving. Perhaps the one that’s just right for you is out there, hiding in plain sight amongst the counterfeit polyester ones and Instagram revelations.

Final verdict

The Farshi Shalwar isn’t just any other wearable fashion — it’s history in perpetual motion. Before pooh-poohing an imitation, remember what the real thing represents: heritage, craftsmanship, and bold self-expression. It’s not about whether you should wear it, but whether you can do it justice. Worn right, a Farshi doesn’t just turn heads — it leaves a legacy.

Salima Feerasta is a freelance journalist and editor-in-chief of style blog karachista.com. She posts on X @karachista

Header and thumbnail illustration by Geo.tv