International luxury houses are reimagining Bandhani fabric, Kolhapuri chappals, mukaish embroidery, and other Indian craft traditions into global fashion statements. Their spotlight brings recognition and increases demand—but when a $5 Kolhapuri chappal becomes a $1,300 Prada sandal, or an indigenous Bandhani lehenga is repackaged by Ralph Lauren into a couture skirt, difficult questions emerge: who profits, who gets credit, and what gets lost along the way?
The hearts of millions of Indians swell with pride when one of their own claims a spot on a global podium — be it an Oscar nomination or a Booker win.
It’s no different in the world of couture. Recently, Indian fashion enthusiasts celebrated Isha Ambani’s Met Gala look, which Vogue described as “a masterclass in how fashion can carry history without ever feeling heavy-handed.” The Manish Malhotra piece, styled by Anaita Shroff Adajania, which required over 450 hours to craft, wove together 26 distinct borders, each representing a different region of India — zari work from Uttar Pradesh, Maheshwari weaves, Kanchipuram and Paithani silks, and Banarasi brocade, embellished with many traditional styles of embroidery which included gara, karchobi, aari bharat, tilla, and kantha.
This swell of pride in native textile traditions isn’t confined to one Met Gala moment. It’s visible in period, global brands’ India revenues moved in the opposite direction: Gucci India fell 17 percent, Dior India dipped 3 percent.
The big-brand price tag: elevation or exploitation?
Despite the rising interest in Indian brands and traditional craftsmanship, one wonders why, when a brand like Ralph Lauren enters the picture and repackages a Bandhani garment as a chic skirt, it elicits discomfort rather than pride. Why do Prada’s Kolhapuri-inspired sandals stir a national debate?
Price is part of it: $474 for the Ralph Lauren skirt, the native version of which sells for a little over $10 at government emporiums — and even less when haggled for on the streets of Ahmedabad. A Kolhapuri chappal goes for about `400 (less than $5) in Maharashtra; the resurgence of khadi on international runways, in the growing number of Indian weaves and crafts securing GI recognition, and in a new generation of designers building global labels around Chikankari, ikat, and block print.
(Photo on right: ralphlauren.global; Photo above: sacredpeepal.com)
The surge in Indian fashion brands is also evident in the marketplace. For fiscal year 2025, Sabyasachi brought in $52.24 million, Hermès India $44.71 million, and Manish Malhotra $32.18 million. Over the same a similar design from Prada recently sold for roughly $1,300 in Milan. A Christian Dior Couture piece featuring Lucknow’s mukaish, an ancient metal embroidery technique, sold for a staggering $174,467. Shrutika Gosavi, a Gulf-based visual artist, poet, and art educator observes, “Whether it’s Prada’s version of Kolhapuri chappals, Ralph Lauren’s Bandhani, or Gucci’s kaftans, the pattern of selling indigenous handlooms for a highly inflated price, is hard to ignore.” As an artist working directly in inherited craft traditions, she’s blunt about the scale of the markup: “I can only imagine what these artisans must feel as they watch their heritage and skills being repackaged and sold at prices sometimes far more than even 50 times their annual income, without acknowledgment or fair benefit.”
Opinions vary within the industry. Some see global brands profiteering from Indian crafts; others argue the discomfort comes from watching the West claim a premium on handicrafts that Indian brands never asserted themselves. Speaking about how Indians have long sought validation from the West, Pranita Garg, founder and creative director of Pranita Garg Studios, a Gulf-based design practice exploring Indian craftsmanship through a contemporary lens, points to a familiar pattern: a traditional style, its appeal worn into cliché at home, suddenly turns fashionable once a Western label picks it up. However, she adds, attitudes are fast evolving. “There are 1.4 billion of us. We are not ‘exotic.’ Indian creatives are tired of needing outside validation before our craftsmanship is taken seriously.”
The pragmatists, meanwhile, are looking at these developments beyond the ethical and philosophical quandaries. Why should Indian fashion remain confined to our wardrobes and runways, they argue? Western interest made yoga an international trend and turned haldi milk into the turmeric latte — so what’s the harm if Indian crafts land on a global pedestal at a price that better reflects their value? A Kanchipuram silk saree can take two to three weeks to weave, a reality even Indian brands sometimes discount. If Western demand can command higher prices for that kind of work, it could help an industry that relies on government support and local patronage — especially when it is also threatened by cheap, mass-produced replicas.
In this dynamic phenomenon of globalization of local artisan traditions, the questions are as layered as the crafts themselves, with no easy answers. We turn to designers, legal experts, and brand strategists — and the conversation quickly converges on what is lost and what is gained when a Western luxury house adopts an Indian craft.
What does the brand actually add?
Vaishali Shah, an international branding consultant based between Dubai and London and founder of Creative ID, argues the conversation needs to move past “Are these brands appropriating culture?” and toward a sharper question: “When Prada introduces footwear resembling Kolhapuri chappals, what is the designer’s contribution? Have they elevated the craft or simply extracted the aesthetic?”
“A luxury label can carry a weaver’s work to a global audience, or it can erase the weaver — de- pending on the brand’s intent and honesty in recognizing its creative source,” says Hyder Jaffari, a Dubai- based brand and creative strategist. Maanvi Sharma, a third-year LL.B. student, focused on intellectual property and cultural narratives, sharpens the distinction: “If only the aesthetic survives while the people disappear, something essential is lost. Appreciation involves collaboration; appropriation takes without acknowledgment or benefit.”
Pranita’s summary of where that leaves things: “No one owns creativity, but there is a responsibility to engage honestly, especially with cultures long overlooked yet globally influential.”
Insider, outsider — and the space between
Since Vaishali operates her businesses across two continents — Asia and Europe — but is a native of India, she wonders, “Am I an insider or an outsider? Both, depending on the moment. Proximity doesn’t grant the right to borrow thoughtlessly, nor does distance disqualify you. The question is what you do with what you take.” Broadly speaking, these industry insiders agree that distance — geo- graphical or cultural — does not prevent engagement — it simply raises the bar for the research and collaboration required.
Hyder traces his own sense of responsibility toward the rich handloom heritage to a visit to Pochampally, a historic handloom town in Telangana’s Yadadri Bhuvanagiri district, where he watched looms in action, attempted block printing, and unraveled a Bandhini saree by hand.
Pranita, an NRI, has felt the pull from both sides: “Growing up, Western aesthetics often felt more aspirational, and parts of our own identity were downplayed to fit a global image. It was only later that I began to see the depth behind what I had overlooked in our native traditions. The fabrics, embroidery, and dyeing techniques felt intelligent and intentional.”
GI tags: protecting what generations have made
Where insider knowledge can’t easily be transferred, it can at least be protected — which is where the conversation turns from aesthetics to law. “Indian crafts carry history, identity, technique, and generational memory,” Maanvi says, emphasizing the importance of Geographical Indication (GI) tags, which legally recognize products whose qualities or traditional methods are rooted in a specific region. Kolhapuri chappals, Banarasi sarees, and Kanchipuram silk, she notes, are not just products — they carry cultural identity, and “GI tags preserve authenticity and prevent misuse.” GI recognition for Madhubani paintings and Pochampally ikat has already helped artisans gain stronger market recognition.
Vaishali makes the same case in commercial terms: “If you profit from a culture’s craft, acknowledge it. Don’t bury Bandhani in product descriptions or label it ‘tie-dye multi.’ Say Bandhani. Say it comes from Gujarat. Make it visible in your storytelling.” She also questions why “Made in India” isn’t marketed with the same cachet as “Made in Paris” or “Made in Italy”: “Is it because Indian craft is genuinely less refined, or because Western brands have trained global consumers to believe that Western interpretations of Indian design are somehow more elevated than the original? When Ralph Lauren sells a Bandhani-inspired skirt for over $400, with minimal acknowledgment, it suggests the interpretation is val- ued more than the craft itself.”
Visibility is not preservation
Global luxury platforms bring visibility to Indian crafts, but visibility alone doesn’t preserve them the real question is whether artisans benefit. Seema Gujral, founder and owner of the Seema Gujral label, a modern Indian couture house that draws on the expertise of master artisans who bring techniques such as zardozi, zari, dori, mirror work, and intricate hand embellishments to life, is cautiously optimistic: “India has always possessed one of the world’s richest textile and embroidery traditions, and it’s exciting to see global fashion increasingly recognize the artistry that has existed here for centuries. As appreciation for Indian artisanal techniques continues to grow internationally, I hope the focus remains on preserving these traditions by investing in the communities that sustain them.”
Pranita believes true preservation means investing in artisan communities, ensuring fair compensation, and letting crafts scale on their own terms not just borrowing their aesthetics. She feels global exposure can sustain crafts economically and engage younger audiences, but warns of detachment when crafts are reduced to luxury aesthetics. She is confident Indian designers are already having their moment, with less need to imitate Western luxury for validation: “Our textiles, techniques, and craftsmanship already have the power to shift global fashion narratives if we trust them fully rather than diluting them.”
“These crafts survived because generations protected them,” she adds, closing the thought. “Artisans are not executing someone else’s vision; they carry knowledge many designers do not. Designers may direct, but artisans give every- thing — quite literally, blood, sweat, and tears.”
Gosavi, the Gulf-based visual artist says that brands that want to draw on these traditions should “purchase the rights to particular patterns, weaves, or art forms, pay royalties to artisan communities, give proper credit, and attach a piece of history to the textiles they sell.” Absent that, her advice to consumers is direct — “In- stead of buying from brands that appropriate culture, let’s support and buy directly from the artisans, the true custodians of these incredible traditions.
Purva Grover is an author, journalist, and the founder and editor of The Indian Trumpet, a digital magazine for expats in the UAE.
Prada’s Sandal Scandal
How a luxury runway design sparked a global fight over cultural IP
The Runway Unveiling (June 2025)
At Milan Fashion Week’s Spring/Summer 2026 menswear show in June 2025, Prada debuted open-toe, braided leather T-strap sandals.
The Look: The sandals were nearly identical to the centuries-old, handcrafted Kolhapuri chappal, historically made by leather-working artisan communities in Maharashtra and Karnataka.
The Omission: Prada initially described them simply as “leather footwear” or “leather flat sandals” with zero acknowledgment of their Indian heritage or inspiration.
The Backlash
Economic Contrast: Indian audiences, cultural scholars, and artisans quickly called out the brand. Authentic, hand-stitched Kolhapuri chappals typically sell in India for anywhere between `400 to `1,000 ($5 to $12). Prada’s version was slated to retail for roughly $1,200 to $1,800 (over `100,000). Cultural Erasure: Critics argued that failing to credit the origin community reduced a living, highly skilled craft ecosystem to an anonymous, aesthetic “trend”.
The GI Tag Complexity
Kolhapuri chappals hold a Geographical Indication (GI) tag, meaning legally, only footwear made using specific traditional methods in eight designated districts in India can be marketed as “Kolhapuri”.
An IP advocate filed a Public Interest Litigation (PIL) in the Bom- bay High Court accusing Prada of infringing on GI rights.
However, because Prada initially avoided using the actual name “Kolhapuri,” direct legal infringement under international GI frameworks proved difficult to enforce.
Prada’s Response & Course Correction
Following intense social media backlash and formal complaints, Prada pivoted to- ward active collaboration:
The Partnership: In December 2025, Prada signed a Memorandumof Understanding (MoU) with Indian state-backed artisan corporations (LIDCOM and LIDKAR).
Made in India: The brand agreed to have the sandals handcrafted directly by registered artisans in Maharashtra and Karnataka, launching a 3-year upskilling program funded by the collection’s proceeds.
[Compiled from reports by The Busi- ness of Fashion, Vogue India, Esquire India, and the Geographical Indications Registry of India.]