Once upon a time, not too many seasons ago, I wrote how every fashion designer worth his sewing machine was aching to be in Bollywood. Last week, my pal Wendell Rodricks and I sniggered to each over the phone: Every actor worth his pancake wants to be on head-ramp. “It’s vengeance,” we laughed.

When a snootier-than-moi editor of a fashion zine gossiped with a failed-actress-turned-trying-socialite at India Couture Week’s VIP lounge saying: “Why all this Bollywood on the ramp? Is this couture? Is this fashion?”, I found myself disagreeing. Her latest issue (a wedding issue, if you please) had actress du jour Katrina (in black!) on the cover. Last month had Kajol and Shah Rukh Khan (“They haven’t posed together in nine years,” she diligently informs me), while former covers have included Kareena Kapoor, Priyanka Chopra, Bipasha Basu and practically every other half-decent looking actress.

Kareena has graced every fashion magazine cover at least once; while Harper’s Bazaar’s latest face is the mug of Sussane Khan whose only claim to fame is being Mrs Hrithik Roshan.

While every fashion watcher has naysayed the invasion of actors on the runway, I’m happy to have Salman Khan enthrall me with his sweet smiles and tush-shake. Akshay Kumar, the highest paid actor, loves to come on the catwalk and flirt uxoriously with his gorgeous wife on the front-row before playing to a field of shutterbugs.

Even smaller designers are getting smaller actors from their front rows to their head ramps for a photo-op. And that’s all that it is; a photo-op. If we stopped publishing and televising the actors’ pirouettes, and only focused on the lapels of a jacket or a modernised use of the kantha stitch, no designer would bother with showstoppers. But then, the great masses wouldn’t watch their shows or read their reviews either.

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