HELLO! India Exclusive: How Lovebirds found its wings

There’s an ineffable ease to Gursi Singh and Amrita Khanna — the husband-wife duo and co-founders of Lovebirds, a label known for its idiosyncratic mix of eclectic prints (painterly swirls mimicking an artist’s brushstrokes), polka dots (big and small), minuscule floral embroidery, and razor-sharp silhouettes that carry the straight rigour of, maybe, an Armani suit.

Their journey to building what is now unmistakably a successful business has been a tumultuous joyride of triumphs and tribulations — rooted in a shared love for art, interior and graphic design, and a sharp eye for collecting garments from thrift shops and boutiques across India, curating a cabinet of curiosities.

Founded in Delhi in 2014, Lovebirds began as a women’s clothing label born from Amrita Khanna’s vintage store, which she opened in 2010 in Hauz Khas Village. By 2012, Amrita and Gursi were designing their own collections, gradually replacing vintage pieces with their original creations. The brand’s signature blend of thoughtful craftsmanship and timeless style captured hearts across the city—and in 2022, Lovebirds spread its wings to Mumbai with a flagship boutique set inside the iconic 19th-century Wesley Church. The brickwalled interiors and carefully curated clothes in soft crayon hues, finished with their unmistakable black-and-white aesthetics, only deepened the admiration for their quietly evolving collections, sparking a true obsession among those lucky enough to experience their world.

So, it’s no surprise that when we make our expedition to their headquarters at Dhan Mills, in the suburban Delhi neighbourhood of Chhattarpur, we encounter a similar setting. Dilapidated grey-and-white walls stand tall against rustic tables and an industrial ceiling, decorated with ovoid lampshades encased in cotton-linen fabrics. Scrolls of calico lie around either as swatches or casually draped over mannequins, while their team moves between laptops and rooms, scurrying to piece together the next collection.

Amid the chaos, their PR manager greets us, asking whether we’d like some coffee.

“Ram bhaiya [the help] is famous for his cold coffee,” she says, “but I’ll make you one.”

Her warmth was enough to put us at ease.

After our model is all bedecked, and the photographer and crew are prepped for the shoot, out walks Amrita in an indigo co-ord set. Her silver hoop earrings, red lipstick, smoky eyes, and tightly wound bun speak volumes about her taut posture — a stark contrast to Gursi, who strolls casually into the main office space, dressed in a crisp white shirt, baggy jeans, and patent leather brogues.

They pose with the model, who wears a bias-cut dress in bubblegum pink and blue stripes.

“Let’s add a bow to her hair!” Amrita instructs.

We aren’t surprised. Bows have long been a Lovebirds signature. In fact, past collections have featured silk satin ribbons tied like bows, paired with T-shirt dresses that cut just below the knees — printed, of course, with polka dots, another recurring Lovebirds motif.

As the shoot transitions into its final look inside the designer duo’s office, we pause. Fashion can often feel daunting, but the couple — and their brand — radiate approachability. Their office carries no air of ambassadorial gentility. Instead, the space buzzes softly with the pitter-patter of torrential rain. There’s no industrial styling, no modish succulents, and definitely no treadmill desk.

A piano and a tiny wooden chair — with a star carved into its back — discreetly give the family game away — they belong to the couple’s two daughters. The piano wasn’t bought for them, but one of them plays it; the chair, though, is unmistakably theirs.

The glass door on the back wall diffuses the room with silvery light, bouncing off the Dhan Mills compound outside. Framed photos of the couple sit beside a tray of trinkets — pencils in a holder, a sharpener, a bottle of water, a Lazzaro mug turned upside down, and an almost-finished hand cream from The French Note. Just behind the designers’ desk hangs a photograph by Bharat Sikka — an image of a Japanese vending machine, stark and graphic in composition, gifted to Gursi on his birthday and now quietly presiding over their workspace.

When we ask how Lovebirds began, their answers are refreshingly candid.

“I wish we were smarter,” Gursi laughs. “Maybe just one PowerPoint, just a PDF to send. We didn’t even have that. We just started as two people wanting to create something together.”

Amrita adds: “I had studied fashion in London, returned to India, opened a vintage store in Hauz Khas, and named it Lovebirds. That’s how it started.”

The first collection? A spontaneous, graphic-led line of clean silhouettes, inspired by Amrita’s personal wardrobe. They had rummaged through obscure markets for fabrics and shot a lookbook that broke conventions.

As Amrita puts it, “Back in the day, no one was shooting like that,” and Gursi adds, “It was architectural but extremely simple.”

The collection caught on. They sent it out to a few publications before leaving on a road trip across Sri Lanka. Ten days later, their inbox flooded. Lakmé Fashion Week reached out. Editors from some of India’s leading fashion publications came calling.

“It’s the moment we knew we had something,” Gursi recalls.

Since then, their approach has remained steadfast: trust in the chaos, but stay rooted in calm. Their studio, as Gursi says, “is where ideation begins. It’s chaotic, but everything starts here — the concept, the sketching, the colouring.”

That tension between calm and chaos, between Amrita’s commercial instinct and Gursi’s artistic whims, fuels their process.

“The best things come out of disagreements. You just have to pause and listen to each other,” Amrita says. Gursi agrees: “There’s always a third way of doing things. That’s where the magic is.”

And the magic, it appears, is something they pass on to their daughters — even if the girls refuse to wear Lovebirds.

“They say it’s too boring!” Gursi laughs. “We make the brightest colours for them but they still say no.”

Yet, there’s an instinctive understanding between the two. They are drawn to quiet. “We live close to my parents, who are very calm, meditative souls,” says Amrita.

“That calmness has trickled down to us and into the brand.” Even when deadlines loom, their reactions are measured.

“We react to chaos calmly,” Amrita smiles. “That’s the only way.”

The design ethos of Lovebirds reflects that restraint, as well. They avoid chasing trends and, instead, let each collection evolve naturally from the last.

“We see our work as a continuation,” explains Gursi. “A new collection is just the next chapter. What excites us is the evolution — a new technique, a new fabric, a new feeling.”

In June this year, when they hosted a dinner in London, in collaboration with Paris-based creative studio We Are Ona, it wasn’t a runway show but a sensorial experience. The space, the music, the food, the light… Everything was curated like a film and was “more about our community.”

Their community, too, keeps growing — from a handful of confident, urban women and men in Delhi and Mumbai (and now, Hyderabad, where they recently launched a new store) to a global clientele. Their recent upcycled collection for Harvey Nichols, made entirely from studio waste, proves that sustainability isn’t just a buzzword for the brand either.

“Fashion and sustainability are contradictory,” Gursi admits. “But we’re committed to the journey.”

That Indian point of view, once questioned, is now celebrated.

“We’re in talks with Neiman Marcus, Liberty, and Harvey Nichols,” Gursi says. “And they no longer question the ‘Made in India’ tag. In fact, they respect it.”

When we wonder what they have in the works, Gursi stresses: “I’m dying to present again, but this time, it has to be special.”

And on their dream-dressing list? Dua Lipa, by popular demand from their daughters. Amrita can’t help but laugh: “They told us: if you dress anyone, it has to be her! It would mean the world to them.”

So what’s the secret to Lovebirds? They both freeze. Gursi tries to stall, offering, “You can say the secret to building a great business is working hard,” while Amrita sits in thoughtful silence, muttering, “Oh God, you didn’t include that in the questions.”

The pause stretches. She says, “I’m just trying to think. Maybe I’ll text you later.” That message doesn’t arrive.

Though, if you ask us, it’s not just the hard work. It’s the harmony, the humanity, and the humility, all wrapped in quiet confidence and the curve of a bow.

PHOTOGRAPHY: ABHISHEK KHANDELWAL

CREATIVE DIRECTION: AMBER TIKARI

This story was featured in the September '25 issue of HELLO! India. For more exclusive stories, subscribe to the magazine here.