India is a land where fashion lives not in glossy magazines but on the streets. Where beauty is stitched into everyday life. Be it the drape of a saree in a local train, the sharp edge of a kurta at a tea stall, or the sway of a dupatta on a motorbike.
Our couture isn’t reserved for red carpets. It walks barefoot through festivals, weddings, markets, and even protests. For too long, this everyday Indian elegance has been dismissed by the West as“exotic” or worse “backward.”
But tides turn. And now, as the world bows down to Louis Vuitton’s Spring-Summer 2026 menswear collection, a poetic ode to India. One can’t help but say: We told you so.
LV’s Celebration
Pharrell Williams’ Louis Vuitton show thoughtfully collaborated with Indian architect Bijoy Jain (founder of Studio Mumbai), grounding itself in Indian crafts, texture, and intricate details while presenting India’s fashion essence with nuance and pride. Meanwhile, another luxury house faltered.
Prada’s Appropriation
Prada recently found itself in the midst of a storm. A scandal rooted in the quiet dignity of India’s Kolhapuri chappals.
For its 2025 collection, Prada released a pair of leather sandals that bore an uncanny resemblance to the traditional Kolhapuri chappal, worn in India for over 800 years. The kicker? They priced it at nearly ₹90,000 and offered zero acknowledgment of its origin. No tribute, no collaboration, no context. Just appropriation, rebranded as innovation.
Fashion critics and desi netizens alike called them out for lifting a symbol of Indian footwear heritage and white-washing it as a“minimalist summer essential.”
The Prada ‘Chappal’ (Prada)
Coachella: A Playground for Cultural Appropriation
What began as a celebration of music has slowly morphed into a runway for aesthetic exploitation. In recent years, Coachella has become a breeding ground for cultural appropriation, especially of Indian culture. Sacred symbols are stripped of meaning, traditional garments are turned into trendy costumes, and the rich heritage of a civilization is reduced to a festival“look.”
Cultural appropriation occurs when elements of a marginalized culture are borrowed (often by those in a position of power) without acknowledgment or respect for their original meaning. More often than not, these cultural markers are reduced to little more than trendy, exotic accessories.
Indian fashion, with its intricate embroidery, vibrant colors, and spiritual symbolism, has often been cherry-picked by Western celebrities for its visual appeal. But the problem is that they treat it as a game of ‘dress to impress’. Where centuries-old traditions are worn for a weekend and discarded like disposable trends.
Here are a few well-known personalities who have been called out for appropriating Indian culture at Coachella and beyond:
Vanessa Hudgens
Vanessa Hudgens at Coachella. (Instagram
The unofficial“queen of Coachella,” Vanessa has frequently sported bindis, maang tikkas, and henna body art. Her festival looks often feel like a Bollywood bridal party gone rogue.
Kendall Jenner
Kendall Jenner at Coachella. (Instagram)
In 2019, Kendall was seen in a lehenga-style skirt paired with a jewel-encrusted head chain, while her stylists referred to it as“boho glam.” The internet clapped back hard, highlighting the clear lack of any acknowledgment of South Asian culture.
Cultural Symbols as Fashion Props?
In many Western music videos and performances, Indian cultural elements like bindis, lehengas, and even rituals are often borrowed as fashion tools. These are used without context, credit, or even basic respect for the traditions they stem from. Why does a brown girl have to tone it down? Why is it called ‘minimalist core’ when worn by a non-POC, but ‘tacky’ when it’s on a person of color?
Selena Gomez
In 2013, Selena Gomez drew negative attention when she wore a bindi during her Billboard Music Awards performance of Come & Get It. While the performance gained praise for its aesthetic, many South Asians criticized the use of the bindi. An important spiritual symbol in Hinduism, as a mere fashion accessory. The lack of recognition or respect for its roots made it feel like a shallow borrowing, reducing a sacred symbol to a stage prop without honoring its significance.
Onstage during the 2013 MTV Movie Awards. (YouTube)
Iggy Azalea
That same year, rapper Iggy Azalea released the music video for her song Bounce, in which she appeared wearing a traditional red Indian bridal lehenga. And performed Bollywood-inspired dance moves, and even rode an elephant. The video was widely criticized for using Indian culture as a colorful backdrop rather than treating it with authenticity or depth. With no real understanding or respect for the traditions portrayed, the visuals felt like cultural tourism offering spectacle without soul.
Iggy Azalea in the music video for her song Bounce. (YouTube)
When Dupatta became Scarf
The flowy ‘Scandinavian scarf’ finds its origins in a Scandinavian luxury label, Totême. The styling of silky headscarves inspired influencers to jump on board without much thought to its resemblance to Indian traditions. TikTok and Instagram influencers have rebranded chunnis long worn by Indian grandmothers as a new“Scandinavian fashion trend.” But let’s be honest: this isn’t innovation, it’s stripping a tradition of its depth.
They were almost identical to the traditional headscarves worn by Indian grandmothers(naanis and daadis) for generations, known across regions as odhni, chunni, or simply dupatta. For many in India, this“trend” was deeply familiar. Something seen in every home, especially in rural or older households.
There was no credit to Indian origins, no mention of the textile roots, no respect for the culture being borrowed. Once again, the West had rebranded tradition as trend, and a cultural staple was being sold back to the world with a new label.
Dupatta becoming Scandinavian Scarf. (Elle)
Indian fashion in the global platform
There is a fine line between inspiration and imitation. When Indian fashion is celebrated with India, through collaboration, understanding, and tribute it adds beauty to both worlds. But when it’s stolen, stripped of its roots, and repackaged as trend? That’s when it becomes exploitation. So, while Prada stumbles and Coachella continues its annual costume parade, the world is learning, slowly that Indian fashion isn’t tacky.
India’s fashion was always iconic. Now, the world is catching up.
