You may have seen the recent debates involving the scarf dress, which includes a fabric that hangs on the neck and shoulders with its two ends flowing freely at the back.
The style was promoted by Reformation and Oh Polly for the summer, and formerly misinterpreted by Bipty, in a now highly chastised and deleted viral video. Although all parties have responded to criticism with a verbal commitment to acknowledge and respect the cultural influence of South Asian culture, the trend still raises the culturally steeped question: Can a piece of fabric ever truly be just that, and can one really appreciate clothing without understanding its long and layered history?
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A dupatta, according to a quick Google search, is a long scarf or shawl-like piece of fabric typically worn by women in South Asia, that was also sometimes worn by men. It is often draped over the shoulders, head, or waist, and can be adorned with embroidery and beading. It serves as a religious symbol of modesty, respect, and grace, with its history dating back to ancient times.
But it is also so much more than that. It is what shrouds your head in humility when you enter a place of worship. It’s what mothers use to wrap and cocoon their new-borns – the muslin as close to that of human touch. The warp and weft of this fabric also carries the learnt skill of millions of South Asian artisans who practice the region’s long-lasting craft traditions. And on a more personal note, it’s the finishing flourish I have seen my mother, grandmothers, great grandmothers, add to traditional outfits for years before me.
A swipe of the drape across a salwar kameez, sharara, churidar or lehenga. A simple ritual that never goes missed before leaving the house.
You can understand then, why the South Asian corner of the internet combusted when Bipty called the dress over trousers and scarf draped like a dupatta look, a “very European trend”, and when Reformation failed to acknowledge its roots beyond that of “inspired by John Galliano” — a visionary designer who often handpicked India as an aesthetic for his mood boards and collections, but never quite moving beyond that comfort zone of the surface.
Don’t get me wrong, Galliano is and will always be one of the best visionary designers the industry has seen. But how radical would it have been if he had collaborated with an Indian researcher, or an expert voice to add the footnotes and context to his collections that fashion so easily forgets? We seem to be amnesiac when it comes to origin stories, especially when they’re not written in the West.
Brands and designers are now rewriting this narrative. Maria Grazia Chiuri, former creative at the helm of Dior, pointed all eyes in the direction of India when she collaborated with Chanakya School of Craft in Mumbai for the Fall 2023 collection, giving credit where credit was due.
More recently, Nike collaborated with Delhi-based independent brand NorBlack NorWhite for a collection of trainers, clothing and a bag in the Indian traditional bandhani technique of tie-dye print-making. Researched and executed by Indians in India, it was a welcome link-up that validated the South Asian voice beyond an aesthetic, as an authority.
Controversial, yes, and it certainly won’t win me any points with the South Asian aunties, but I loved the Gucci x Bollywood actress Alia Bhatt ‘sari’ moment at the Cannes Film Festival, last month. The brand’s official ambassador since 2023, Bhatt described the look as Gucci’s version of a sari. Technically speaking, it was a lehenga skirt paired with a bikini-style blouse (not unlike the kind Alia often wears to Indian red carpets), and a dupatta-style drape that flowed behind her on the carpet. And of course, as if on cue, online fury broke out. “It’s not a sari!” commenters enraged. A post I made in favour of the look that felt so modern and appropriate – styled by an Indian stylist, worn by an Indian actress with 80+ million Instagram followers and a shelf full of awards – got pretty divisive in the comments.
Sometimes, I wonder if us South Asians tie ourselves in knots. We’re angry when we’re ignored. We’re angry when they try. So what if Gucci wanted to call it a “gown” in their caption? They’d like to sell it to the rest of the world too, and make it commercially viable – and sometimes words matter. Would a non–South Asian from anywhere else around the world feel entirely comfortable purchasing a garment called a sari, with its layered and loaded history and appropriation vs appreciation debate? Probably not. Instead of being on the defensive back foot, I would urge us South Asians to instead educate from our place of power.
As someone who has made a life move to a different culture and country in their 30s, I often feel out of my depth. Learning, here, has become an everyday ingredient. My British husband still occasionally pauses in disbelief –“Wait, you never watched this growing up?” The reality is: cultural knowledge isn’t innate. You have to be curious enough to learn. Ask questions, listen, and digest.
It requires a certain amount of brushing aside of the ego and be prepared to be hand-held through the process. Rarely does not knowing come from a place of malice. And this has been evident in the apology that followed the Bipty TikTok or the recent dupatta-debate that ensued on California-resident Abby Treece’s TikTok. To all the negative comments about appropriation, she responded: “I am thankful I am able to be educated on such an important cultural matter. But I think some of [the comments] have gone too far.”
As I told a journalist last year: admiration is welcome – I don’t want people to fear touching our clothes. But it must come with understanding. So yes, wear the dupatta dress this summer. Just know where it comes from. And maybe, ask someone who’s worn one before – or better yet, support a South Asian designer keeping the craft alive. Appreciation, after all, looks chicest when accessorised with context, credit and community.
Here are some of my favourites if you're looking to support South Asian designers.
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Akanksha Kamath is a London-based writer and former fashion features director of Vogue India. She contributes to titles including FT HTSI, FT Weekend, BoF, and runs LSS (Like, Share, Subscribe) – a Substack publication exploring internet culture alongside her musings on fashion, beauty and lifestyle.
