A Dupatta by Any Other Name

The first time I heard someone say ‘Scandinavian scarf’ was on a Saturday evening while I was mindlessly scrolling. Call it naive, but I thought it was some new design where scarves were inspired by the actual country it was named after. You know, Scandinavia. Imagine my surprise (and horror) when I see a dupatta being labelled a ‘Scandinavian scarf’ by some clueless influencer. I thought I was mistaken. Maybe not wearing my prescription glasses was catching up to me. It really was a dupatta, wasn’t it? 

I tried to give the creator the benefit of the doubt. Maybe they did wear scarves in Scandinavia. It’s a cold place, after all. But the scarves they wore showed no resemblance to what the creator was showing. Was the media really rebranding the cloth my culture had worn for thousands of years? 

It wasn’t just one time, no. Do you really think they’d stop at the dupatta? Jhumkas, Kolhapuri sandals, kurtas, ‘boho chic’ cotton wrap skirts, the drapes of the saree and lungi. I even saw someone referring to henna/mehndi as ‘temporary tattoos’. They’ve rebranded it—more 

specifically, multi-million dollar corporations have. Our culture had to be given an aesthetic name for the trends to stick, no matter what it’s called by the people who thought of it, designed it, and made it come to life. Discrediting the origin of a certain item doesn’t make it more valuable. It doesn't make it more polished. It just serves to prove the erasure and discrimination that continues on, despite our attempts to fight it. 

When an Indian girl applies coconut oil on her scalp, her hair is ‘greasy’ and ‘dirty’, but when Bella Hadid does the same, it’s her ‘oh so unique’ hair care routine. The double standard of it all is astonishing. Why is it embarrassing when we do it and something to be admired when they do? Brown skin needs to be bleached, but when the other girls do it, their skin is ‘sun-kissed’. I admit some of it is internalised, but I also wonder what standards imposed upon us made us internalise it? The view that something only becomes recognised once it’s tailored to be accommodating only erases the effort that goes into it prior. 

Day after day, there is an abundance of products, but no credit or acknowledgement to be seen. It isn’t even much we’re asking for, is it? It’s like when you have to do everything on a group project, and the first name that shows up on the credits/members 

is some random guy that made two slides of the powerpoint. It doesn’t blatantly discredit the actual one who did everything, not necessarily. But it also bestows unfair glory to the one who barely pulled their weight on the whole thing. The analogy, admittedly, isn’t anywhere near as consequential as the problem at hand, but it still proves a point. 

There’s also the argument that this whole thing is blowing ‘harmless trends’ out of proportion. Discrediting a culture while reaping the fruit of its creation is not ‘harmless’. It serves to misinform unaware people, and encourages others to continue rebranding ethnic commodities and lifestyles. Theissue is not targeting people and having control over fashion articles.

The problem is overseeing the heritage as a whole. For forgetting it exists. Or worse, knowing its prior existence, and still actively choosing to disrepute it. 

It’s the aunties who drape their sarees; school girls who wear twin braids with oil; South Indian brides who wear huge jhumkas and painstakingly drape a heavy, grand pattu saree; and uncles who wear lungis after they come home after work. These are real people. They’re my friends, relatives, my patti, my appa and my amma. People who wear these ‘trends’ every day—who rest, work, and sleep in it. It isn’t just a passing trend for us. They aren’t fast fashion. They never will be. 

Growing up, I wasn't in India. I didn't get exposed to much of the culture that existed there. I was pretty clueless when I’d go to India for the holidays and people would ask me to wear or say something I didn't even know existed, let alone understand the meaning. I had to learn. As a child, I wasn't too fond of my traditions since I didn't have much connection to it aside from the occasional pooja or festival. Those were the only times I could actually see it for what it was. The intricacies. My ignorance wasn't a reason for not knowing it; it just made me look stupid in front of my relatives, who thought it was common knowledge. Appreciating and learning about culture is not a linear path. It requires effort and genuine curiosity. More importantly, it requires respect for the people who made it, and for those who continue to carry it on to this day. Even now, I'm still learning. I can't proclaim I'm the most educated person on culture out there, but I can, however, identify the harmful ways it's been done wrong by the media and fashion companies when it’s adapted and showcased internationally to be something it’s not. 

Globalisation has done wonders in countless fields. It connects people and brings different cultures together. However, there are situations like this where along with the virality, the true meaning gets lost. It indirectly contradicts itself by blending everything to an unrecognisable extent. It proves to be an interesting dichotomy where it allows cultures to travel, but simultaneously be stripped of their origin or underlying values. 

It isn’t only the South Asian people, either. It’s the Bohemians, Filipinas, and the African people and so many other cultures. From traditional African braids to the commodification of the ube, to ‘boho chic’. 

People often like to claim the line between appropriation and appreciation is blurred, and while I do agree with certain takes, I wholeheartedly believe a culture can be enjoyed and embraced when it is given due credit and not watered down by the whims of people who do not know its nuances. 

Social media has made it easier to be informed on a ‘niche’ subject than any other time in history. Even though it’s easier to misrepresent something, it’s even easier to access information about it. Please, learn about it. Ask someone who knows about it. Google it up. Watch a content creator go into it. Do something instead of just following along. 

And most of all, address it by the name it has been referred by for centuries. It wasn't ‘Scandinavian’ to begin with. We just stopped calling it by what it was. A shame, really.