Meet the maharaja of quiet luxury: Ishaan Khatter’s 'The Royals' wardrobe is a fashion masterclass

There’s a new kind of royalty on our screens, and it doesn’t wear a crown so much as it owns the room. In The Royals, Ishaan Khatter doesn't just play Prince Aviraaj, he becomes him, with a presence so magnetic that plot twists feel secondary to his every movement. Whether he’s delivering a loaded line or simply entering the frame, Khatter brings an effortlessly regal energy that feels less like performance and more like inheritance. But beyond the palace politics and steamy subplots, it’s his wardrobe that tells the real story: a subtle, striking evolution from traditional heir to modern-day maharaja.

Yet it’s not just his on-screen gravitas that sets him apart. It’s his wardrobe - a masterclass in sartorial storytelling—that chronicles the prince’s evolution from palace rebel to heir apparent. Gone is Bollywood’s boy-next-door. In his place is a contemporary maharaja dressed in a quiet storm of couture.

From the moment Prince Aviraaj steps into a scene, his clothes do more than make a statement, they reveal entire chapters. His ceremonial looks are steeped in cultural legacy: think intricately embroidered sherwanis with velvet piping, jewel-toned bandhgalas adorned with metallic threadwork, and luxurious brocade kurtas that pay homage to the royal ateliers of yore. These garments echo echoes of Mughal grandeur and Rajput pride, but with a distinctively current edge.

Yet what makes his style so compelling is its duality. Between royal duties and off-duty brooding, Aviraaj slips into pieces that embody quiet luxury, muted linen kurtas, crisp Mandarin-collared cotton shirts, pleated trousers, and relaxed polos in neutral hues. The kind of wardrobe that speaks not of wealth, but taste. You’ll spot subtle nods to European tailoring and modern minimalism, a perfectly cut blazer here, an unfussy co-ord there, and at one point, a Louis Vuitton backpack casually slung over his shoulder. Understated, but undeniably elite.

Then comes that scene. The royal fashion show. A parade of OTT drama, where characters strut down the catwalk in Abu Jani Sandeep Khosla’s maximalist couture - dripping in sequins, embroidery, and unapologetic drama. It’s fashion theatre at its most flamboyant, deliberately contrasted with Aviraaj’s grounded elegance.

While others gleam like walking chandeliers, Khatter's Prince remains the eye of the storm, his fashion choices more nuanced, rooted in a story that values legacy and identity. His restrained glamour doesn’t shout. It resonates.

What lingers, long after the credits roll, are not the peacock-worthy ensembles, but the quiet, contemplative looks. Aviraaj, seated alone in his study post-scandal, riding his horse at dawn, or gazing out at the horizon in perfectly tailored separates. These scenes and the fashion within them signal a prince who is rewriting the rules of royalty.

Gone is the need to prove one's lineage with flash. Instead, there’s a sense of stillness and self-assuredness, told through clean lines, earthy palettes, and rich fabrics that whisper luxury rather than scream it. His style becomes a silent protest against the opulence around him, a wardrobe rooted in depth, not just dazzle.

In The Royals, Ishaan Khatter doesn’t just act. He curates a fashion journey. Every ensemble is intentional, every silhouette a reflection of Prince Aviraaj’s inner world, torn between duty and desire, tradition and rebellion. It's a rare moment when costume becomes character.

So, while the storyline may be peppered with betrayal, ambition, and dynastic chess games, it’s the prince’s clothes that deliver the most compelling arc. And if this is what monarchy looks like in 2025, refined, layered, and quietly powerful—consider us loyal subjects.