When does inspiration become cultural appropriation in the fashion industry?

While there has always been discourse and disagreement about what counts as appreciation, the distinction between an homage and cultural theft is far less murky than the fashion industry might have you believe

When Carrie Bradshaw walked out of her iconic, 64 Perry Street brownstone in New York City on HBO Max’s …And Just Like That in a maroon-and-cobalt blue Falguni Shane Peacock lehenga, there was an uproar on the Internet. It wasn’t the hand-embroidered checkered outfit that caused outrage. It was the casual way in which, after a conversation between her and her Indian friend Seema about the difference between cultural appropriation and appreciation earlier on in the show, Bradshaw emerges in the lehenga, which she considers a “sari”. That the conversation happens in a ‘sari’ shop (that has nary a sari in sight) hammers the misappropriation in further; it seems almost farcical to be having a conversation about appropriation amidst a deeply appropriating moment. 

This isn’t the first or the last instant of the line being seemingly blurred to the well-intentioned connoisseur of fashion and culture. The lines seem hard to draw without doing the work of recognising what constitutes either, and, when in doubt, there is a catchall phrase that tends to crop up.

“Inspired By…”

Few buzzwords have been bandied about in fashion like ‘inspiration’ has. A phrase that has infiltrated press releases and social media campaigns for luxury houses, fast fashion brands and indie designers alike, it is easy in its malleability. It can be applied to anything from paying homage to an idea to borderline plagiarism. It is also used freely, often nefariously, to its detriment.

Though some might argue a grey area exists between the two—unless a brand or maison is especially particular about the process—a lot of ‘light’ inspiration can come off as appropriation. While there certain techniques and silhouettes that are more nebulous in their origin (think the turban or head wrap that takes myriad forms across globally, or iterations of the kaftan that have their roots in everything from Persian to Senegalese and South East Asian culture), some—especially prints, embroideries and artisanal techniques—are quite culture-specific.  

Inspiration in fashion has charted one of two courses; especially in the context of ‘borrowing’ from those other cultures. The first is the insidious one—a kind of ‘theft’ that helps itself to elements of a culture’s design, craft, customs and traditions without accountability. The second is the ethical one—one that consults, co-creates and credits, from profit-sharing to working with local artisans and artists in the process of creation and making sure that inspiration is given the respect of due process. The latter (healthily) appreciates; the former is ingrained  in the industry’s bones much deeper than it would care to admit.

A Culture Of Appropriation

Examples of glaring disregard for that culture exist throughout fashion’s history globally. There are galling ones—think Dolce & Gabbana Slave Sandal (2016) or Gucci’s $790 ‘Indy Full Turban’ that caused an uproar among the Sikh community (2019). Examples, like Isabel Marant’s Fall 2020 ready-to-wear Étoile collection (which ‘borrowed’ from the the Mexican Purépecha community) or Kim Kardashian and North West’s septum rings at Paris Fashion Week (2022), received backlash and sympathy, proposing more ‘misunderstanding’ than ‘misuse’ from advocates of both Marant and Kardashian. But the common thread that runs through the spectrum is a fascination for an idea with a disregard for credit and consent.

“To us, it’s taking a cultural reference and interpreting it in a way that’s convenient to you without caring about where it comes from, or what it might represent,” says resortwear designer Narresh Kukreja of Shivan & Narresh. “Any kind of cultural element—be it an embroidery technique or reference imagery—holds a certain value and a story. So, when fashion interprets culture, it has to, in some way, uphold the values of that reference as well. Indian culture is often appropriated by the West. From embroideries to textiles and imagery, there have been too many cases of appropriation to count, nearly none comprehending the layers of complexities behind what they’re appropriating.” 

“Appropriation in the pejorative sense of the word means to ‘borrow’ without attributing the source,” designer Namrata Joshipura outlines. “When there is a use of aesthetics that economically impacts the original creator directly, such as copying a specific style, then this takes on a sinister dimension. However, broadly, the postmodern aesthetic world we live in allows for a ‘free-for-all’ approach.  Clearly, it is not a simple black and white issue; specific appropriation of ideas, or a general technique are the two sides of the coin.”

Maxilimilano Modesti, co-founder of Kalhath Institute, finds the term complex, and whittles it down, explaining “I prefer to ask—is it inspired or is it a copy? All designers are ‘inspired’ by their heritage, history, and their travels, as well as by their education and the work of designers before them. This is what is relevant to me in 2023, but has been since I started my career as a fashion designer at Azzedine Alaïa [Tunisian couturier]. Alaïa always taught me to study and learn from our predecessors; draw inspiration, but never copy. Today, copies are almost everywhere because people don't have the necessary education to know they are copying work. Or worse, choose to directly copy it from designers, local or from other countries. That is plain theft.”  

The Indian Influence

Denying India’s impact on global fashion is impossible. There is the globalisation of Indian prints; chintz, seersucker, Madras plaid, and, famously, paisley. Indian silhouettes have long been co-opted by luxury houses—the sari drape, lungi, veshti and the lehenga/’ ‘circle skirt’ spring to mind. Indian karigars and their embroidery have long been employed by many maisons for their most detailed designs. India has always been—and continues to be—the opalescent backdrop that keeps fashion aglow. But does it truly get its place in the sun?

“Our intricate embroideries, handcrafted techniques, prints and patterns that originate out of India and interpreted by the West in their own sensibilities are some of the easiest seen examples of co-opting by the West,” says Kukreja. “In terms of silhouettes, the most significant contribution has been our sari drapes. Dior, Givenchy, YSL, Karl Lagerfeld—they’ve all appreciated the importance of sari-draping styles and adapted it in their designs, thus making this the most common appropriation in referencing done by the West. And, of course, the paisley motif.” 

Both Kukreja and Tytler immediately offer Etro as an example of this, both allotting it different intentions. “Brands like Etro have been built entirely on aesthetics and have referred and reinterpreted it in their own signature way for decades now.” It’s not something Tytler deems appropriation, rather an homage. “The handprints of Indian techniques and embroidery are all over global couture now; think zardozi, pearl detailing, aari work, zari work and so forth. But Etro really is a long-standing example.” 

Modesti finds Mughal designs are co-opted most freely of all. “I cannot get over the fact that in 2023, most Indian designers and luxury brands are referring to a vocabulary created 500 years ago. When [textile designer] Brigitte Singh revamped it in the early 80s in Jaipur [also redesigning it], she was among the first to do so. Then, everybody followed suit, and till today, many couturiers use this vocabulary to ‘design’. It takes time and talent to really design and create properly, and fashion’s demanding schedule makes it impossible to propose new patterns every season. So they all get ‘inspired’,” he smiles wryly. “And don’t even get me started on paisley!” 

The Sweet Spot

While it might seem like cultural theft runs rampant in an industry unwilling to acknowledge influence and part with profits, it isn’t all quite that bleak. Examples of appreciation very much exist; concerted efforts to work with, consult and factor in communities to create fashion and art in a culturally responsible manner. Take, for instance, Rick Owens and the references to Egyptian culture in his work that involve, evoke and navigate the wearer to its origins. Or, Kerby Jean-Raymond’s tribute to Weeksville with Pyer Moss’ Spring/Summer 2019 collection featuring black artist Derrick Adams creating 10 new works especially for the collection. And, most recently and closest to home, Dior’s Pre-Fall 2023 show in Mumbai.

Almost unanimously, the show rises to the fore as an example of actual appreciation. “Dior used motifs and surfacings from Indian craft and it was done so beautifully, respectfully,” says Tytler. “I think it was one of the most fabulous shows I’ve ever seen.” Kukreja agrees, citing that “whilst traditional embroideries were used (and they have been for decades now, by most international luxury brands), the show was held in India and centred around it. Post-show releases educated Dior’s customers about these embroideries, their names and the processes that went into making them.” Joshipura adds: “Shining a light on the talents of our artisans is a net benefit to India. Luxury houses have finally started to pull back the curtain about where the hand embroideries are being produced. This show was an excellent example of this.”

Modesti is more disillusioned with the prospect of appreciation in its purest form, pointing out that it is an expensive and time-consuming prospect that the machinery of fashion will not allow for. “I don't think that the fashion industry is capable of working in a sensitive way. The business of fashion and its impossible rhythm simply cannot be honest towards communities.”

Weaving In Ethical Practices

In a post-pandemic era, luxury is booming, with a current valuation of US $111.50 billion in 2023, and a predicted annual growth of 3.39 per cent. Fast fashion is no slouch either; valued at US $1002.3 million in 2022, with an expected increase to US $1,401.5 million by 2028, with a growing CAGR of 5.2 per cent in the next six years. There is no time like the present when it comes to accountability and profit-sharing; the question simply remains—where will the industry do it? 

It’s about cutting the bullshit and taking ownership, in Modesti’s opinion. “It would be great if brands didn’t have a PR tsunami pretending to be the pioneers of something—today’s consumer knows better. There has always been someone who has done something, albeit in a different way.  Fashion and craft are both cyclical. The same techniques of embroidery stitches will appear in South America and in India, possibly around the same time. Who did it first? Nobody owns it. The first embroidered dress harkens back to Egypt another 5000 years, even before Christ. And, in this long history of textiles, India certainly deserves to be back in the centre of the conversation.” 

Kukreja suggests “building a team, or involving a specialist from that area, or culture, like Dior just did. That sort of involvement shows appreciation for the craft, making sure that the craft is evolving and getting recognition both within the country as well as globally.” He also recommends bringing guest creative directors on board so they can see to it that the craft and culture are respected through the design process.”

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