Indian Designer Kanika Goyal Is Giving Mickey Mouse Lungi Checks And Paisleys

Nostalgia and novelty–oscillating between the two is in fashion. Holding the two in tension, clutched tightly–now that’s Kanika Goyal’s style. And for Disney fans from India, she comes bearing some good news. Cultural reclamation just got cooler with her latest collection, which is a bold reimagining of Disney iconography filtered through a distinctly Indian lens. 

Her latest offering merges the cherished familiarity of Disney and the lived textures of Indian sartorial sensibilities. This rebellion boasts of intelligence if you ask me. Enter skilful hand embroidery, lungi checks, and Mickey Mouse in tow. The thing about Goyal is that she’s unafraid to subvert, remix, and reimagine. There’s defiance, there’s appreciation. And a whole lotta sentimentality.

Read our chat with the designer below.

ELLE: Were you ever worried about ‘playing’ with icons so tightly held in the Western imagination?

Kanika Goyal (KG): I grew up with Disney characters—like so many of us, their world was deeply embedded in my imagination. But so was the vividness of my own surroundings. There’s a certain poetry in reimagining these global pop icons—so rooted in Western culture—through an Indian lens. The collection uses deconstructed tailoring, upcycled denim, and hand embroidery to create a layered, dreamlike mapping of identity. It’s nostalgic, but with a twist. Maybe the point was exactly that—to play with what feels sacred, and reframe it through a more personal, culturally fluid lens.

ELLE: Would you say contradiction is your design language?

KG: Absolutely. KGL thrives on paradox—bringing together visual languages that aren’t meant to sit side by side and making them work intuitively. This collection is a conversation between two worlds: Disney’s bold, playful universe and our own aesthetic, which leans into deconstruction, soft grunge, artisanal detailing, and strong graphic storytelling. We didn’t dilute either voice—we allowed Mickey’s silhouette and vibrant palettes to live alongside our signature elements. Chillies became amulets of protection, paisleys stood for continuity, temple gates hinted at portals to alternate realities. That tension—between familiarity and disruption—is at the heart of what we do.

ELLE: Who are you designing for — the girl who watched Disney, or the woman who outgrew it?

KG: For both. The collection holds space for nostalgia, but it’s never naive. It’s layered with symbolism and memory, where childhood playfulness meets grown-up perspective. There are pieces with bold graphics and irreverent energy—for those who still connect with the characters. And then there are subtler interpretations, for the woman who has outgrown the fairytales but still remembers the feeling. It's about offering both—the whimsy and the weight.

ELLE: How do you navigate the tightrope between cultural representation and fashion exotica?

KG: It’s something I think about a lot. The collection isn’t a checklist of ‘Indian’ symbols—it’s a collage of memories, encounters, and cultural layers that have meaning for me. The chillies aren’t props—they’re protective talismans. The temple gates aren’t just decorative—they’re architectural forms that shaped my visual vocabulary. It’s less about representation and more about lived experience. The intention is always to create from a place of respect, emotion, and story—not to aestheticize for the sake of visual appeal.

ELLE: What would you say to those who still think fashion rooted in Indian craft must look a certain way — beige, block-printed, export-friendly?

KG: That notion feels reductive—and a bit tired, honestly. Indian craft is incredibly diverse, and it's not confined to muted tones or traditional motifs wrapped in nostalgia. We’ve always tried to approach craft through an unconventional lens—whether that’s our take on Phulkari or combining hand embroidery with unconventional materials like upcycled denim or faux leather. It’s not about rejecting tradition, but about refusing to flatten it into something palatable or expected. I think the power lies in recontextualising, not replicating.

ELLE: You’ve been part of this wave of new Indian designers who’ve moved beyond the bridal complex. Was there a moment you realised KGL wasn’t going to play by the old rules?

KG: The entire reason for starting KGL was to do things differently. From day one, we wanted to challenge ideas of what design could be. Our visual language is built on paradox: refined tailoring meets irreverent humour, craft meets concept, tradition meets youth culture. As a brand born in India, we see our heritage as a resource—not a boundary. It fuels us, but it doesn’t define the limits of what we can imagine. We’re here to make work that’s culturally resonant but not boxed in by expectation.

ELLE: Who do you think is doing truly original work in Indian fashion right now?

KG: ‘Original’ is a complicated word in fashion—we're all drawing from something. What moves me is when designers take those references and interpret them in ways that feel both intentional and emotionally resonant—when there’s a certain rawness beneath the polish. I’ve always found John Galliano and Glenn Martens' work compelling for how they use deconstruction not just as a visual tool, but as a means of storytelling and Miuccia Prada of course for how she draws inspiration from art, history, and politics, challenging traditional aesthetics while pushing cultural boundaries. In India, I see that same spirit emerging in younger designers who aren’t just remixing heritage, but dissecting it—reshaping the narrative thread by thread. The work feels alive, unpredictable. And that, to me, is the most exciting kind of originality. Redefining what Indian fashion can be, and it’s exciting to be part of that conversation.