She was conscious about her weight, and wondered if Amit \Aggarwal polymer lehenga would fit her; she was egged on by a doting family – 7 of them flew from California. With D Day set for October, she had scoured through Instagram, narrowed down designers she wanted, and found wedding shopper/ stylist Vanshika Jain through social media. “Try her she is great,” she beckoned me.

“I’m taking Devika around the city, assisting with what to choose, make appointments, visit stores, help in trials… she contacted me from the US,” says Jain, who made an elaborate mood board for the family’s perusal, which took a month to get approved. This entire shopping trip can cost up to Rs. 3 lakhs for her services; she makes sure the bride-to-be is happy, offering support till she reaches the mandap (planners charge 8% to 15% of total wedding budget).

I was at Ambawatta One, 100 feet from where Jessica Lal was murdered 30 years ago, a story I covered relentlessly for a leading newspaper, as a cub reporter. The parking lot had cars worth Rs. 50 crores, Phantoms, Bentleys, BMW 7 series, Ferrari 849 Testarossa ₹10.37 crore, and Maserati New Granturismo (Rs. 3 crore); it is GDP of a small nation.

Under a sea of solitaires, miniature bags, pointy-toe princess ballerina kitten heels with diamante bows, I decided to start my story by posing as a customer of designer lehengas.

First stop Amit Agarwal’s sprawling showroom offered really uncomfortable gown saris from Rs. 1,75,000-2,75,000 (including GST), satin-chiffon, blush pink/baby blue, only medium size. If you are a big girl, just leave or wait for 5 weeks to place an order. “Pollen work is new,” beamed Mitali the salesgirl, who studied fashion from Jagannath University.

I laughed as the bride’s mom told her, “How will we wash this? I think it is plastic; soap water, sun drying will help.”

Much to her horror, Mitali exclaimed, “This is polymer. You can dry-clean the sari with winged pallu.”

In Mehrauli, haute couture can be bought on sale, but before we go there you should see pure decadence at Falguni-Shane Peacock marble palace, wooden doors as big as a building – quite imposing.

Suzy Menkes once said, “More people understand bad fashion than good fashion.” It’s a shining example of this philosophy. I was greeted rather tersely by Pranay, the store manager, who told me, “No photographs,” when my eyes popped out seeing a Rs. 38 lakh lehenga-gown.

“Is it studded with gold, diamonds, semi-precious stones?” I questioned. “No, it is hand done; took 3 months to make.”

It was so shiny that the base fabric couldn’t be seen. A MP from Faridabad bought it – a young salesgirl, visibly nervous, who was sent along with me, told me secretly. “We charge extra if the pieces have walked the runway,” she exclaimed. I wondered why? What’s the logic?

Funnily, as I was sneakily trying to take pics, I got caught. They got another salesman to “watch me”; I wasn’t dressed like the others, but tried to fit in by hanging my 70% off Abraham and Thakore upcycled denim jacket on my shoulders. I was unsuccessful – it kept slipping off that I blamed it on providence, and lack of style skills.

FSP ground floor has sale pieces. They too cost a bomb – Rs. 8,80,00. Sizes weren’t available though; they charge extra for alterations – Rs. 50,000 per piece.

I observed a middle-class girl, squeezing into it, the zipper wouldn’t go up, plus, she wasn’t comfy in a rather larger-than-life store. She left, went to younger Ridhi Mehra, adjoining the store, trading for “lesser status”, said her worried mom in a cotton kurta.

“Vicky Kaushal wore this sherwani. Kukki (I’m guessing it to be her groom) would love it; Akshay Kumar, Kiara Advani, Tamannaah Bhatia, have walked the red carpet in FSP, we can’t afford big league,” she mused. Crystals, foil, fully embroidered, to Swarovski – you name it they have everything – it is a bling train.

Carma, Ambawatta One, Kila playground of rich and famous, is also a place of aspirations.

Ekta Kaushik, who has been in the business of catering to politicians, marble dealers, rubber pipe makers, and has seen large amounts of money, running ghee business in Raipur, to supplying nail polish varnish to Lakme in Chhattisgarh, Ghaziabad, Meerut, had come to Manish Malhotra to buy a Rs. 38 lakh lehenga. She has been selling haute couture for the last 30 years – 10 in Ogaan, then Tarun Tahiliani 14 years, now Manish Malhotra. “They want to show off, tell everyone they can afford it, but fly under the radar,” she explains.

A cardiologist from John Hopkins came to MM, and got a Rs. 27 lakh lehenga. “It was her second marriage, so she wanted to splurge,” a source told me on condition of anonymity.

One thing I understood, there is no limit to money in Delhi which is OTT; Mumbai is largely understated.

A salesgirl from Gaurav Gupta told me, she has seen the way the moneyed behave with sales staff – shouting, yelling, multiple alterations, “you don’t know who we know; we will get your shop shut down; get a tax raid; get it ready in a month or we won’t pay,” are the many threats they face daily, if they are not pandered to.

Listen, fat tax exists. Ridhi Mehra was my next stop. Pratibha, store manager, had worked with Abraham and Thakore, now selling onion pink tissue lehengas, wear it as a skirt or drape — Rs. 3,54,000; they can reduce work, or try sharara for mehendi Rs. 2,20,000. “If bride is bigger, we charge per kali — in lehenga, 25,000 per kali,” says Meenakshi, store assistant, who studied hospitality and aviation, and has been working with Mehra for four years.

For bargain hunters, it is multi-designer store Evoluzione. I saw strange shapes from Karan Torani in sunshine yellow, on 70% off, as well as Rajbinder Chahal, who looked similar to Papa Don’t Preach Shubhika, at Rs. 1,25,000 for a Barbie pink lehenga. “There’s double lining and net; it won’t poke you,” says Akriti, who studied fashion design from JD Institute. Bonus of legwork journalism is free education on new labels Ohh Crow, by Aman Anand and Reeta Anand. It looked quite similar to Abu-Sandeep Khosla with its mirror work placements.

Next stop Masaba: Kashish, a sales girl who had studied psychology, told me if “your friend is a double XL, we will charge 20% more, increasing the cost of pleated salwar, zari, Anarkali by Rs. 45,000; add to its price Rs. 1,10,000”.

I decided to hop over to Namrata Joshipura, known for his eponymous jumpsuits, with a mild drizzle of sequins, the jersey sari (Rs. 80,000) will take four weeks to make.

I also got to know many facts about designer wear maintenance. Preeti, an informed salesgirl at Pankaj and Nidhi for the last eight years, told me, you can’t spray perfume on white applique long jacket – it has to be sun dried, (jacket with palazzos) – worth Rs. 1,38,000. It can be fully customised, sleeves added et al. “Try the corset for after party,” was her parting shot. Me in a corset, hell no! – Asmita is the Lifestyle Editor of NRI Focus. She is an award winning journalist who has been writing on fashion for the last 32 years