Teen Talk: The Tale of the Scandalous Scandinavian Scarf
For centuries, one way that fashion has evolved is by borrowing from other cultures—an amalgamation that has enriched our world of endless diversity. Why, then, are recent adaptations of Indian fashions by Western brands problematic?
[Left] Scandinavian Scarf—more like a desi dupatta. (Photo: Harper Bazaar)
Fashion. The word itself carries an imperceptible, magical aura. It stirs visions of rich runway carpets, designer collections, and the blinding lights of fashion shows. It is a word that instantly captivates many; but for me in particular, it is a word synonymous with Indian culture and sensibilities.
Growing up, many of my days during my India visits were spent holding my mom’s hand, walking down the bazaars of Chandni Chowk in Delhi and Linking Road in Mumbai. I distinctly remember watching the spirited attempts that the shop owners made to convince my mom to buy. The unraveling of each saree would be accompanied by an exclamation, “EK NUMBER! Original print, Madam!” While I was mesmerized by the vibrant pinks, opening my mouth and exposing my American accent came with the risk of a sudden increase in price.
Style is at the core of Indian clothing, where each garment carries significance, representing our rich history and the diverse cultural backgrounds. Rajasthani ghaghra, Gujarati chaniya-choli, Punjabi salwar- kameez, Maharashtrian Nauvari saree, and Karnataka’s Kasuti embroidery, are just a few examples. Our garments are defined by fashion and flair.
But, does the West have an appreciation of this rich legacy? Just this April, the multi-million dollar fast fashion company Reformation released a line with the hugely popular Internet influencer Devon Lee Carlsen. The collection featured classic t-shirts and dresses, but it was one look in particular that caused the release to become the talk of the town: a “low-waist skirt” meant to be paired with a matching tank top and styled with a thin, long scarf. Or, in other words, a Westernized version of the quintessential Indian lehenga.
Despite the shocking similarities, in an interview with Forbes magazine, Carlsen conveniently failed to mention the collection having any South Asian influence at all. She wanted the design to feel as if “you’re dressing up like your favorite character in a rom-com.” And in some ways, Carlsen is right. The outfit bears a resemblance to the best kinds of rom-coms: Bollywood ones.
Looking at the collection, I experienced a strange sense of déjà vu (or maybe PTSD). Only a year earlier, the fashion company Bipty referred to a classic dupatta as “very European” and "Scandinavian." Bipty officially apologized, and the controversy sparked a TikTok trend where many Indians jokingly called their dupatta “a Scandinavian scarf.”
However, this time, the pattern of “borrowing” Indian-inspired fashion ideas without crediting the source could not be simply joked away. Thousands of Indian Americans used social media to point out the lack of South Asian credit in the Western world of fashion, accusing brands like Reformation, Oh Polly, H&M, and PepperMayo of cultural appropriation. Companies were not borrowing but were, in fact, exploiting our culture, stripping away the context and history behind our pieces to generate sales.
And yet, once unleashed onto the realm of social media, the sheer magnitude of reactions quickly proved that things were not quite as black and white.
Say “Yes” to Cultural Osmosis
Historically, “plagiarism” is how fashion has often evolved. The trend of oversized clothing and bucket hats is closely tied to Black culture. “Kimono cardigans” come from Japan, and cowboy hats, vests, and belts can be traced back to Spain, Mexico, and indigenous cultures. Cultures have been taking inspiration from other cultures for ages.
Isn’t America famous for being a melting pot of cultures? Why shouldn’t those cultures be allowed to melt? Why shouldn’t fashion be allowed to evolve through osmosis? One Reddit user goes so far as to say that it is racist not to let white people or any “foreign” people partake in other cultures. “Culture,” they say, “is exactly something [that] you can take any aspect you want out of and meld it with your life,” even citing the pagan holiday Christmas and how it is widely celebrated in Japan. So, are the cries about cultural appropriation much ado about nothing? Why is it suddenly “wrong” for Carlsen to copy without credit?
I do not pretend to understand all the cultural nuances of the topic. We all have different connections with our culture, and so, who am I to define the line of cultural appropriation for you? Who is anyone? However, in my humble, 16-year-old opinion, I think we have lost the narrative in all the TikTok hashtags and clickbait thumbnails. Yes, people are right, fashion should be allowed to evolve and cross cultural lines. And yes, it was just one ignorant TikToker who coined the term “Scandinavian scarf.”
Say “No” to Commercial Plagiarism
At the same time, I think it's wrong to say that these conversations don’t matter at all. I disagree with those who say that a dupatta is just a measly piece of fabric. Unlike others, I do not think the backlash stems from wanting to gatekeep Indian fashion. Believe me, even as somebody who hates sharing, the first thing I want to do is give my non-Indian friends a salwar kameez or a lehenga for literally any occasion.
And I know for a fact that it isn’t just me. When Hollywood superstars like Zendaya and Gigi Hadid wore traditional Indian sarees to the opening of the Nita Mukesh Ambani Cultural Center, nobody criticized them. We Indians celebrated them. Because, when done right, the sharing and celebration of cultures and traditions is inherently beautiful. And by working with the Indian designers Rahul Mishra, Abu Jani, and Sandeep Khosla, both Western icons “did it right.”
Reformation describes its collection by saying that “Each piece has a story, written in glittery pen on a bar napkin.” In a weird, contradictory way, that one sentence seems to summarize the core of this issue. Each piece, especially the off-brand lehenga, does carry a story, but it's not one written in glitter. Instead, it is a story written in the fear of being labelled a FOB, one written in the embarrassment of being called hairy or smelly.
Instead of disingenuous poetic lines about the inspiration behind their collection, if they had just been honest enough to acknowledge its cultural roots, they may not have faced the backlash that they did. These stories highlight the hypocrisy we have faced our whole life—of brands selling duped Indian fashion for 600 dollars when all it got us was weird stares at Publix.
[Right] Prada’s blatant appropriation of the Kolhapuri chappal. (Photo Instagram/@nikhilmansata)
In the Western fashion industry, there is a glaring absence of South Asian models, an aversion to working with Indian designers, and frankly, not even enough respect to do the bare minimum of just acknowledging South Asian influences.
Just last month, Prada (yes, Prada) released its toe-ring sandals, which looked eerily similar to the traditional Kolhapuri chappals. And yet, there was not so much as a passing mention of the Indian artisans who, for centuries, have spent hours crafting each pair, which Prada so quickly and painlessly rebranded. Following social media outrage, weigh-ins from celebrities like Kareena Kapoor and Neena Gupta, and appropriate legal action, Prada issued a statement acknowledging the South Asian influence in the creation of their sandals. They had "always celebrated craftsmanship, heritage and design traditions,” and they were open to a "dialogue for meaningful exchange with local Indian artisans." I find it rather convenient that all brands want to “celebrate” and have “dialogue” with us only after they start to smell smoke.
The apologies by Prada and Reformation are a step in the right direction, and the onus is upon each one of us to fight for brands to acknowledge and credit Indian heritage and artisans. It is a fight we cannot avoid if we want the next generation to take pride and celebrate their culture. That is the only way we can show them that it’s alright to wear jhumkas to class and lehengas to prom. That will be a true celebration of Indian culture and craftsmanship when we can confidently walk in Manhattan with a little bit of Chandni Chowk in our hearts.
Column host Gia Agarwal is a 10th-grader who, when not crushing it in her advanced writing classes, is out there living every book lover's dream. She can be reached at TeenTalk@Khabar.com.
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