The Dhaakad collection isn’t just a wardrobe for a film—it’s a visual manifesto. From the moment you see the blood-red dupatta draped over a leather-clad shoulder, you know this isn’t your typical Bollywood action flick. The collection, built around the character of Agent Agni, strips away the usual song-and-dance gloss and offers something rawer: tactical vests, distressed denim, and boots that look like they’ve kicked through a dozen brick walls. It’s a world where fashion serves function, but also screams attitude.
How the Wardrobe Shapes the Character
I remember watching the trailer and pausing on a single frame—Kangana Ranaut standing in a monsoon-drenched alley, her black tank top soaked, a chunky silver chain catching the rain. That image stuck with me because it wasn’t glamorous. It was real. The Dhaakad collection leans into that grounded feel. The costumes aren’t designed to make you look pretty; they’re designed to make you believe she can actually fight. The heavy boots, the multiple holsters, the frayed edges—every piece tells a story of survival. In one scene, her jacket has a bullet graze mark. That attention to detail is rare in commercial Indian cinema, where heroes often change into fresh outfits mid-explosion.
Breaking the Traditional Action Heroine Mould
For decades, the Indian action heroine was either a damsel in distress or a brief side character in a man’s story. The Dhaakad collection shatters that. Here, the clothes don’t just support the action—they are the action. The heavy denim and leather resist tearing, the boots grip uneven ground, and the accessories (like that metal gauntlet) double as weapons. I spoke with a costume assistant who worked on the film, and she mentioned how they sourced actual military-grade fabrics for the stunt doubles. That authenticity bleeds into every frame. You can feel the weight of the costume, the sweat, the dirt. It’s a love letter to the gritty action films of the 1990s, but with a distinctly Indian soul.
The Colour Palette: Red, Black, and Dust
There’s a deliberate lack of colour in the Dhaakad collection. The palette is almost monochromatic: charcoal greys, dusty browns, and deep crimsons. Red appears sparingly—usually on Agni’s lips or as a streak on her dupatta—and it always signals danger or rage. The absence of bright colours isn’t a flaw; it’s a choice. It mirrors the film’s tone: unflinching, dry, and unforgiving. The dust is real too. The costumes are often caked in dirt from the Chambal valley sets, and the production team refused to clean them between takes. That grit is part of the story.
Why This Collection Matters Beyond the Screen
Fashion in Indian cinema has always influenced street style, but the Dhaakad collection does something different. It challenges the notion that femininity and ferocity can’t coexist. You’ll see women in Mumbai’s indie music scene now pairing leather jackets with traditional jhumkas, or wearing combat boots with silk skirts. The collection has sparked a micro-trend: utilitarian chic with a desi twist. Designers are taking notes, incorporating chunky hardware and raw hemlines into their lines. But more than that, it validates a certain kind of anger—the kind that women are tired of hiding. The Dhaakad collection gives that anger a uniform.
Behind the Seams: Crafting the Dhaakad Look
Building this collection wasn’t easy. The costume designer, in an interview, admitted they went through fourteen iterations of the iconic leather jacket before settling on one that allowed full range of motion for fight choreography. The boots were custom-made with reinforced toes because Kangana kept breaking standard pairs during rehearsals. Even the jewellery was chosen for sound—the clinking of chains during a fight scene adds an auditory layer to the violence. Every decision was practical, yet deeply aesthetic. That’s the magic of the Dhaakad collection: it never sacrifices believability for style, or style for function.
The Dhaakad collection will likely be studied by film students and fashion enthusiasts alike for years to come. It stands as a testament to what happens when a film respects its characters enough to dress them for their battles, not just for the poster.