I’ve seen Nomi Ansari rise from the time when he had a little, colourful studio on the mezzanine floor of an unimpressive building in one of the lanes of 26th street. Now he has an impressive space near Teen Talwar, one that boasts hundreds of samples of his vibrant shaadi-wear. Each and every outfit is separated by a plastic laminate (to avoid embellishment snagging the fabric) and each outfit is coded and marked with a visual card. These cards often get stolen, says the man who faces the threat of being one of the most plagiarized designers in Pakistan. For that he requests me not to take close ups of his clothes.